Day #86: Objective Beauty? Does it Exist?

Hello all! So, I think I'll post a couple photos along with a couple thoughts. I'm procrastinating/working-out an essay for my ethics class, so bear with me as I jot down and organize an idea or three. So... we are currently reading C.S. Lewis' book titled The Abolition of Man, where he claims that a certain book on grammar has the capacity to a radical destruction of society as we know it. The problem begins with an example that the two grammarians give, a scenario where two tourists are looking at a waterfall. One of the tourists calls the waterfall "pretty," while the other calls it "sublime." The two grammarians say that when the tourists are saying these things, they are actually talking about their feelings towards the waterfall, not the waterfall itself. They are saying, "I have sublime/pretty feelings." These two grammarians are capturing the heart of a new ethical modern theory that has changed our world radically. C.S. Lew says that this grammar book will bring about the weakening and emasculating of mankind, and eventually bring about its complete destruction. A rather hefty claim, right? Can C.S. Lewis back this up? Actually, yes he can, and he does.
How is it possible that a grammar book could lead to the destruction of society? First of all, one must understand that there is a huge connection between language, thought, and reality. C.S. Lewis and Aristotle both saw this connection, as have many other philosophers, politicians, and world leaders. Let's begin with Aristotle. Aristotle wrote a book on grammar called, "The Categories." This was the very first book on the philosophy of being a.k.a. metaphysics. Although the book begins as a grammar book, its conclusion is metaphysical, making claims on being. You see, language reveals being. Every time we learn a new word, it adds a new dimension to our perception of the world. When you learn the word, "mother," you learn to associate that with a certain person, a certain kind of person, a reality that you may not have known before. The word expresses the being. Aristotle says that there are ten categories of language which match up to ten categories of being. He states that when we look at a word we need to look at its etymology and its common use - its origin, its meaning, and how it is usually used in society.
However, just as language can reveal being, it can also obscure being. It can reveal reality or it can obscure it. For example, if your language is stunted, your grasp on being will also be stunted - your perception of reality will be muddled, gray. For example, during the Second World War, Hitler used the term "social cleansing" vs. "extermination" or "murder" to obscure people's perception of reality. I am tempted to say here, in a play off of Cuzco's words from The Emperor's New Groove, "Well, anything sounds good when you say it with that attitude!" It's all in how you say it - language matters. Politicians know this all too well - the first thing they attack is language, because if you mess with the language, you can blind people to reality. You can screw up their thinking. Language is the key that unlocks the door to reality.
If language is so deeply connected to reality, then there is a deep connection between language and morality, between grammar and ethics. Now, let's look at this grammar book in light of these connections. The grammarians say that when the tourists were talking about the waterfall, in reality, they were only talking about their feelings. There are two problems with this statement. First of all, they are teaching bad grammar. We do not associate the attributes of "pretty" and "sublime" with our feelings. We don't have "pretty" or "sublime" feelings. The supposed experts are teaching bad grammar! Secondly, the grammars use the word "only." "They are only talking about their feelings." So not only are the tourists not saying something about the waterfall, but also the feelings of the tourists are belittled. Feelings are not important.
These guys are teaching more than grammar. They are instilling an idea that will have huge implications for the world. One of the major propagators of this idea was a man by the name of David Hume (1711-1776). David Hume said that something was bad only if you felt it was bad, that the value of an object was the result of your feelings towards it. This same idea is propagated in the grammar book. The waterfall is sublime to the one tourist because he feels it is sublime. The waterfall is pretty to the other tourist because he feels it is pretty. We are the source of value, we determine its worth. Man is the measure of reality. This is David Hume's idea of the world.
The other possibility is that of Aristotle and Plato. According to these Greek philosophers, values are independent of us and merit or deserve a certain response from us, from our heart, will, thought. Being is the tree, and value is the fruit that comes from the tree, from being. So how do you know when what you think, say, feel, or do are good and right? When you do justice to the world. When the way you think matches up with the world. Your thought is measured by being. Michelangelo's David  merits a certain response from us. Its value, its worth does not come from our opinion or our feelings toward it, but originates in the sculpture itself, outside of ourselves.
So we have two options: either we determine the value of objects and of actions or their value is determined by something outside of ourselves - in short, either we determine the good or the good determines us. It's the question of whether or not there is an objective good. Where does the good come from? Is murder always wrong? Is the evil of rape only a matter of feeling? Or is the good determined by something, someone beyond man? We are talking about God here. Either I am God, and I determine the good, or I am not God, and there is a God or at least a source of all goodness.
Now, you are probably wondering why this title is about objective beauty when I am talking about objective goodness. Well, first of all, when the grammarians gave the example of the waterfall, not only were they talking about grammar and philosophy, they were also talking about beauty. They use a very particular example - namely, the beauty of a waterfall. Secondly, according to Aristotle and C.S. Lewis, there is a connection between the two. David Hume also noted this connection. Remember him? He said that something was bad or evil only if you felt it was bad - for example, rape is only bad because you feel it is bad, it's not actually objectively evil. Well, David Hume also said, "All sentiment is right because sentiment has no reference beyond itself." In other words, every feeling is correct because there is no value outside of feeling. A feeling towards something can never be inappropriate. Hume continues, "Beauty is no quality in things themselves. It exists merely in the mind which contemplates them and each mind perceives beauty differently." In short, he is saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
So first Hume is saying that morality is up to my feelings, and now he says that beauty is up to me. What is the connection here? There was another great thinker by the name of Mackie who had a key insight into what Hume is doing here: "When I reject objective moral goodness, I am also rejecting nonmoral values, especially the aesthetic ones." What is aesthetics? The study of beauty! So when you reject moral goodness, you also reject beauty!
Did Aristotle have anything to say to this? Of course. According to Aristotle, the education of children depended heavily on beauty. He said that in order to train children to be moral from their early years, you expose them to beauty. You teach them taste, to like or dislike certain things. You teach them to have appropriate feelings towards appropriate things : for example, teaching the evils of theft, of murder, you teach them to feel dislike and abhorrence towards these evil acts.
But this is a lesson in morality, not beauty, right? Yes, but they are connected. An excellent example of this is found in the film trilogy The Lord of The Rings. In these films, there is a clear distinction between good and evil, morality and immorality. Evil is depicted vividly in the ugliness of the orcs and the uruk hai, whereas the good is portrayed as beautiful in the elves, the men, the hobbits, the dwarves. In these films, the soul takes visible form. Another great example is Oscar Wilde's novel The Picture of Dorian Gray. In this book, a handsome young man wishes that he could live the way he chooses without feeling the effects of old age or the consequences of immorality, and magically, he gets his wish. However, a portrait that was painted of him begins to show the effects of his wicked lifestyle, becoming more and more decrepit as he falls deeper and deeper into sin. Although he himself does not grow old or ugly, the portrait does.
Now, do you think we can teach our children to be good while letting them watch and listen to garbage? What if people are numbed to beauty so that they can't see it? Or, it may be possible that they have developed a taste for ugly things? It's quite possible. So what do we do? EXPOSE THEM. Expose them. Expose them. To quote my ethics professor, "Of course we don't readily see beauty. We watch the Simpsons! We watch these awful cartoons - have you ever seen anything more base, more grotesque?" (I mentally cheered at this point - I'm glad someone else thinks that those guys running around on Disney Channel and Cartoon Network are hideous, like Phineas and Ferb? Gross! Maybe these shows do have some good lessons to teach kids, but morality and beauty don't always necessarily come together the way they ought. They're still ugly).
Well, that's all I can write on the subject right now. I need to go talk to my professor tomorrow about my ethics paper before I actually write it. But I did promise some photos, so I will put up a few so that you might appreciate some beauty after that long over-hall. Enjoy! God bless!

A park in London near Buckingham Palace

                                

St. Stephen's Green, Dublin

Connemara, Ireland

More Irish countryside

The Cliffs of Moher

Connemara sheep and lamb! ("killer sheep") ;-)

Day #80 : The Cliffs of Moher

Today we went on another bus tour to the Cliffs of Moher. We were originally going to take a boat out onto the ocean to see the Cliffs from the water, but we learned that the train we needed to take to get there on time for our boat ran only during the summer. In addition, the train back would leave at 1:45, giving us only an hour and a half at the Cliffs. So we had to change our plans, and fortunately our lovely hostel was able to help us get a tour to the Cliffs. The tour took us past a couple castles and an abandoned church or two on the way, so we figured it was worth it.
Whereas Connemara was lots of mountains and sheep, this tour took us to see the Burren, a limestone landscape covering 320 square km. The first stop was a fairy circle, the Ballyalban Fairy Fort, a prehistoric ring-fort or ancient farmers homestead, home to fairies and/or little people. It's a lot of bare rock, really, with short grass growing up in between. Our next stop we saw a portal tomb called the Gleninsheen Wedge Tomb - a tomb that looks like a stone table of some sort.  We got to see an abandoned church called the Kilfenora Cathedral and Crosses, also known as "The City of Crosses" because of the abundance of Celtic Crosses that adorn the 6th century monastery. In the cemetery I found several familiar names: O'Briens, O'Donohues, Mcmahon, and Walshe. :-)
We stopped at Doolin for lunch, then we drove for about fifteen minutes to the Cliffs themselves. I must say that the Cliffs of Moher are probably one of the most beautiful thing I have seen - I think I would almost put it on par with the mountain and the hermitage in Assisi. The weather was gorgeous the entire day, and the sun was gleaming on the waters. The Cliffs were stark, darkly contrasting with the blue of the water. You could hear the distant, constant roar of the waves crashing against the rocky walls. The foam from the waves gleamed white. The sunlight danced on the water, dazzling the eye. The seagulls floated through the mist rising off the water like fairies in an enchanted glen, making the cliffs seem all the more magical. There was a harpist set up on the walkway, playing in the background, adding to the mood. I drew a sketch of her, and a sketch of the Cliffs - this one wasn't very good, I fear, but I hope to do a better one when I have a photograph to look off of when I return home. There was a tower called the O'Brien's Tower one could climb for two euro to get a better view of the Cliffs - if that were even humanly possible. I wonder if the O'Brien's who built the tower or inhabited it are a distant relation? I prayed a Chaplet of Divine Mercy at the top of the tower, and the fourth movement of Buxtehude's Membra Jesu Nostri Cantata came to mind : "Surge, amica mea, speciosa mea, et veni: columba mea in foraminibus petrae, in caverna maceriae." -Song of Songs 2:13-14. This translates, "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the cliff." Perfect, no? I bought an Irish crucifix made out of turf at the gift store. It's very simple, but it had a person at the base of the cross embracing the wood, which I really liked, and I thought it would be a nice memory along with the Cliffs.
We stopped along the way back to Galway to see the shoreline, then we returned to our hostel. Tonight I think we are going to browse the streets in search of a traditional Irish pub with traditional Irish music. Tomorrow we are exploring Galway!