Saturday, June 23, 2007

On The Works Of Munch

"Christianity is not melancholy. It is glad tidings for the melancholy."
Kierkegaard

Perhaps the most enigmatic artist of the 19th century was Edvard Munch.

From the 17th century on, Europe began to host a number of intellectuals calling for the perfection of society through education, philosophy, and government. These intellectuals gave rise to the period known as the Enlightenment, followed by the utopian ideals of Napoleon, followed by continental revolution, followed by the totalitarian governments of Lenin and, later, Hitler and Stalin.

During the quest for societal perfection, a number of artists, poets, and writers became disillusioned with the magnificent plans of the future. Hegel, the philosopher who described the Absolute Idea in historical terms of dialectic became profoundly disappointed when Napoleon lost at Waterloo. One also recalls the industrious dreams of the first World War and its subsequent lost generation with writers like Hemmingway and Fitzgerald.

Perhaps the best expressions of disillusionment found itself in the paintings of a Norwegian artist, Edvard Munch. Munch's pieces often express the strange sorrow of existing as well as the anxiety associated with making choices in the modern world.

Hegel and the intellectuals before his time had much to say on the topic of societal progress. In their minds society was continually lending itself to newer and better methods of interaction. While happiness was generally very high or very poor in individuals, the intellectuals emphasized that the historical significance had more to do with the public in general and not with single individuals.

While Hegel and the new intellectuals emphasized the metric of societal progress they also portrayed society as the mechanism for progress. An educated society would be able to judge and recognize universal goods in ways single individuals could not -or so the intellectuals claimed.


Munch's pieces examine the so-called public. They go beneath the surface. Instead of finding noble intentions, sincerity, and confidence, Munch found self-deceit, restlessness, and anxiety.

His art is not photo realistic. It takes artistic license in broad strokes. You can't make out the details because they pull the audience into the mood and gloom of the subjects in the paintings.


A common theme in the paintings of Munch is sexual frustration.

The communists of the era, such as Karl Marx, were beginning to make great promises about liberating men and women from the capitalist institution of marriage. By removing this historical artifact passed by tradition, the communal enjoyment of free love and sexuality would benefit society in ways never before imagined. Or so Marx claimed.

Munch's paintings reflect the way one can fail to recognize oneself by means of sexual interaction. The sexual turmoil of his subjects express horror perhaps to the extent of suicide.


My take on Munch is that he was a wake up call to the people of his day. His works cried out, "Beware those who promise a perfect society here! Society will never be perfect because society is essentially imperfection!"

His most famous work is probably The Scream. If I may take some liberty in offering an interpretation, the subject seems to cry out in an expression of dred and trembling, though nothing seems to be chasing him.

This nothingness, as Kierkegaard noted in his On the concept of Anxiety is the origin of dred. The subject in the Munch piece may marry or remain alone. He may lie and cheat, or he may pursue the ethical life.

No one else can make this decision. When he looks to someone else (such as society and social opinion) he finds nothing. This fear of nothing in the subject is his dred.


Munch's contributions must not be overlooked. In a lifetime of painting he accomplished far more than the revolutionaries and intellectuals of his day ever promised, but to call Munch's perspective the truth in its disillusionment is to regard life with contempt.


Munch showed that sex, society, and an ambitious, revolutionary attitude will not give anyone meaning in life, and I say as solemnly as I can that in this single regard he was totally, totally correct.

This however, is so very far from suggesting life has meaning or that it can be meaningful to someone.

When a doctor writes a prescription he takes the symptoms of his patient into careful consideration. Munch sets out to make us aware of our own symptoms, but he leaves us with the task of accepting the prescription.

If we look for someone else to accept the prescription for us, we are left with the chilling glimpse of how alone we really are.

If Munch will allow for such a cure, it can only be a prescription if one can take it without hesitation, without another secret longing, without evasion, in short, without duplicity. In this regard I understand the call to devotion.

"The steadfast of mind You will keep in perfect peace, because he trusts in You."
Isaiah 26:3

Labels: ,


Read More ...

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

How To Be Convinced

'I suffer, forgive me, I suffer ...' And in a hot rush of feeling she clasped her hands before him.

'From what in particular?'

'I suffer ... from a lack of faith ...'

'A lack of faith in God?'

'Oh no, no, of that I do not even dare to think, no, it's the life to come - that is such a riddle! And I mean, there is no one, no one who can answer it! Look, you are a healer, a connoisseur of the human soul: I, of course cannot demand that you believe me entirely, but I assure you by the most solemn precept that not out of light-mindedness do I say to you now that this notion of a future life beyond the grave agitates me to the point of torture, of horror and of panic ... And I do not know who to turn to, all my life I have not dared ... and so now I am making so bold as to turn to you. Oh God, what sort of woman will you think me now?' She wrung her hands.

'Do not be troubled on account of my opinion,' the Elder replied. 'I fully believe in the sincerity of your anguish.'

'Oh, I am so grateful to you! You see, I close my eyes and think: if everyone else believes, then why do I feel all this? And now people say that it all stems in the first place from a fear of nature's frightening manifestations and that none of it is based in reality. But wait, I think: all my life I've believed that I shall die, and that suddenly there will be nothing there, only "burdock growing on a grave", as I read in the work of a certain writer. That is dreadful! How, how am I to restore my faith?
Though actually, I only had it when I was a little girl, it was something automatic, something I didn't even need to think about ... How, how can it be proven? I have come now to abase myself before you and ask you for this. I mean, if I let this opportunity pass me by, then no one will give me an answer for the rest of my life. How can it be proven, how can one be convinced it is true? Oh, it's too unfortunate! I stand and look around me and see that no one could care less, or practically no one, no one worries about this any more, and I'm the only person who cannot endure it. It is murderous, murderous!'

'Without doubit, it is murderous. But here it is not possible to prove anything; it is however, possible to be convinced.'

'How? By what means?'

'By the experience of active love. Try to love your fellow human beings actively and untiringly. In the degree to which you succeed in that love, you will also be convinced of God's existence, and of your soul's immortality. And if you attain complete self-renunciation in your love for your fellow creatures, then you will unfailingly come to believe, and no form of doubt will ever be able to visit your soul. That has been tested, that is precisely true.'

'Active love? But that is another question, and it is such a qusetion, such a one! You see, my love for mankind is so great that, would you believe it, I sometimes dream of giving up all, all that I possess, of forsaking Lise and of joining the Sisters of Mercy. I close my eyes, I think and dream, and at those moments I sense within myself an over mastering strength. No wounds, no septic sores would be able to frighten me. I would dress them and bathe them with my own hands, I would be a sick-nurse to those sufferers, I am ready to kiss those sores...'

'It is already much and good that your mind should dream of this, and not of some other thing. One day suddenly by chance you really will perform some good work.'

'Yes, but would I last in such an existence for long?' The lady continued hotly, and almost in a kind of frenzy. 'That is the question! That is the question that torments me most of all. I close my eyes and ask myself: would you last long on such a path? And if the sick person whose sores you are washing does not at once respond with gratitude, but starts instead to torment you with caprices, failing either to cherish or even notice your philanthropic devotion, begins to shout at you, making rude demands, even complaining to someone in authority (the way that people in great physical suffering often do) -what then? Will your love survive, or will it not? And then, you see, I realized with a shudder that if there is one thing that would be capable of instantly cooling my "active" love for mankind, it is ingratitude. Quite simply, I am the kind of woman who works for a reward, and I want the reward at once, in the form of praise for myself and reciprocated love. I am incapable of loving anyone on any other terms!'

She was in an access of the most sincere self-flagellation and, when it was over, gave the Elder a look of challenging resolve.

'That is almost precisely what a certain medical man once told me, long ago now,' the Elder observed. 'The man was already quite advanced in years, and of unquestionable intelligence. He spoke just as frankly as you have done, though also with humour, a rueful kind of humour; "I love mankind," he said, "but I marvel at myself: the more I love mankind in general, the less I love human beings in particular, separately, that is, as individual persons. In my dreams," he said, "I would often arrive at fervent plans of devotion to mankind and might very possibly have gone to the Cross for human beings, had that been suddenly required of me, and yet I am unable to spend two days in the same room with someone else, and this I know from experience. No sooner is that someone else close to me than this personality crushes my self-esteem and hampers my freedom. In the space of a day and a night I am capable of coming to hate even the best of human beings: one because he takes too long over dinner, another because he has a cold and is perpetually blowing his nose. I become the enemy of others," he said, "very nearly as soon as they come into contact with me. To compensate for this, however, it has always happened that the more I have hated human beings in particular, the more ardent has become my love for manking in general."'

'But then what is to be done? What is to be done in such a case? Is one to give oneself up in despair?'

'No, for it is sufficient that you grieve over it. Do what you are able, and it will be taken into consideration. In your case much of the work has already been done, for you have been able to understand yourself so deeply and sincerely! If, however, you have spoken so sincerely to me now only in order to receive the kind of praise I have just given you for your truthfulness, then you will, of course, get nowhere in your heroic attempts at active love; it will all merely remain in your dreams, and the whole of your life will flit by like a wraith. You will also, of course forget about the life to come, and you will end by somehow acquiring a kind of calm.'

'You have overwhelmed me! It is only now, at this very moment, as you were speaking, that I realized I was indeed merely expecting you to praise me for my sincerity when I told you I could not tolerate ingratitude. You have pre-empted me, you have caught me out and explained me to myself!'

'Do you say so, indeed? Well now, after a confession like that from you, I believe that you are sincere and good-hearted. If you do not reach happiness, always remember that you are on the right road, and try not to deviate from it. The main thing is to shun lies, all forms of lies, lies to yourself in particular. Keep a watch on your lies and study them every hour, every minute. Also shun disdain, both for others and for yourself: that which appears to you foul within yourself is cleansed by the very fact of your having noticed it in you. Also shun fear, although fear is only the consequence of any kind of lying. Never be daunted by your own lack of courage in the attainment of love, nor be over-daunted even by your bad actions in this regard. I regret I can say nothing more cheerful to you, for in comparison to fanciful love, active love is a cruel and frightening thing. Fanciful love thrists for the quick deed, swiftly accomplished, and that everyone should gaze upon it. In such cases the point really is reached where people are even willing to give their lives just as long as the whole thing does not last an eternity but is swiftly achieved, as on the stage, and as long as everyone is watching and praising. Active love, on the other hand, involves work and self-mastery, and for some it may even becomes a whole science. But I prophesy to you that at the very moment you behold with horror that in spite of all your efforts, not only have you failed to move towards your goal, but even seem to have grown more remote from it - at that very moment, I prophesy to you, you will suddenly reach that goal and discern clearly above you the miracle-working power of the Lord, who has loved you all along and has all along been mysteriously guiding you. Forgive me that I cannot stay longer with you, they are waiting for me. Until we meet again.'

The lady wept.

Dostoyevski. The Brothers Karamazov. pp. 59-63



Labels: ,


Read More ...

Sunday, June 10, 2007

On Laughter And Death


Two readers here have expressed their support regarding the Christ against Christendom post. They also disagreed with a verse from Luke where Jesus laments those who laugh:

Woe to those who laugh, for they shall weep.

The verse seems unusual -not only to them but also to me. It seems to have come from outer space. Woe to those who laugh ...? Woe to those who look for that thing I am constantly looking for ...?

But the Scriptures do not lie.

Although I cannot find a place in the Bible that forbids laughing, there are many precautions about it. These precautions seem so alien to me. I admit laughter is a thing I struggle with everyday.

In response to these readers (and, yes, I am a reader of this blog also) I have put together a collection of life experiences and passages from the Bible, Shakespeare, and Kierkegaard on laughter and its perils.

If you are ready to continue then please begin. I did not want to start without providing a fair warning.


A fire broke out backstage in a theater. The clown came out to warn the public; they thought it was a joke and applauded. He repeated it; the acclaim was even greater. I think that's just how the world will come to an end: to general applause from wits who believe its a joke.
Either/Or


It is better to go to a house of mourning
Than to go to a house of feasting,
Because that is the end of every man,
And the living takes it to heart.
Ecclesiastes 7:2


Last week my uncle traveled a great distance to see me and my family. As a way of entertaining everyone at dinner I began telling a story I thought had perhaps been forgotten.

"When my Uncle was on the faculty of my elementary school, one of my friends punched a boy in the face and broke his glasses. Instead of facing the punishment he decided to run. The administration did not know what to do. My uncle, on the other hand, took off running. He chased him for a mile before he caught him."

Everyone laughed with the only exception being my uncle, who looked very grave. I thought I had truly said something wonderful, but then my uncle spoke up: "That boy had a troubled childhood. Before he finished highschool he had taken his own life."

I said to myself, "How foolish I am!"


It should worry one to see with what hypochondriac profundity a former generation of Englishmen have discovered the ambiguity at the bottom of laughter. Thus Dr. Hartley has remarked: 'When laughter first manifests itself in the infant, it is an incipient cry, excited by pain, or by a feeling of pain suddenly inhibited, and recurring at brief intervals.' What if everything in the world were a misunderstanding, what if laughter were really tears?
Either/Or


Alas, poor Yorick !
I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy; he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft.
Where be your gibes now?
Hamlet, V.i


Christianity is seriousness.
Anticlimacus, The Sickness Unto Death


He said, "I will surely return to you at this time next year; and behold, Sarah your wife will have a son." And Sarah was listening at the tent door, which was behind him.
Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in age; Sarah was past childbearing.
Sarah laughed to herself, saying, "After I have become old, shall I have pleasure, my lord being old also?"
And the LORD said to Abraham, "Why did Sarah laugh, saying, `Shall I indeed bear a child, when I am so old?'
"Is anything too difficult for the LORD ? At the appointed time I will return to you, at this time next year, and Sarah will have a son."
Sarah denied it however, saying, "I did not laugh"; for she was afraid. And He said, "No, but you did laugh."
Genesis 18:10-15

Read More ...

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Sayings of Pascal


Faith is in the heart and obliged to say not Scio [I know] but Credo [I believe].
II.41

Men despise religion, they hate it and are afraid it might be true.
II.46

The knowledge of outward things will not console me in times of affliction.
III. 57

Man's condition. Inconstancy, boredom, anxiety.
III. 58

Anyone who does not see the vanity of the world is very vain himself. And so who does not see it, apart from the young who are preoccupied with bustle, distractions, and plans for the future?

But take away their distractions and you will see them wither from boredom. Then they feel their hollowness without understanding it, because it is indeed depressing to be in a sate of unbearable sadness as soon as you are reduced to contemplating yourself, and without distraction from doing so.
III. 70

We never keep ourselves to the present moment. We look forward to the future as too slow in coming, as if to hasten its arrival, or we remember the past to hold it up as if it had happened too quickly. We are so undiscerning that we stray into times which are not our own and do not think of the only one that is truly ours, and so vain that we dream about those which no longer exist and allow the present to escape without thinking about it. This is because the present usually hurts us. We hide it from sight because it wounds us, and if it is pleasant then we are sorry to see it pass. We try to buttress it with the future, and think of arranging things which are not in our power for a time we cannot be at all sure of attaining.

Everyone should study their thoughts. They will find them all centered on the past or the future. We almost never think of the present, and if we do it is simply to shed some light on the future. The present is never our end. Past and present are our means, only the future is our end. And so we never actually live, though we hope to, and in constantly striving for happiness it is inevitable that we will never achieve it.
III. 80

We know the truth not only by means of reason but also by means of the heart. It is through the heart that we know the first principles, and reason which has no part in this knowledge vainly tries to contest them.
VII. 142

...That is why gaming and the conversation of women, war, and great offices of state are so sought after. It is not that happiness lies in such things, nor that we suppose that true beatitude comes from the money we can win at the gaming table or hunting the hare; no one would accept such things as a gift. We are not looking for this soft, peaceful existence which allows us to think about our unfortunate condition, nor the dangers of war or the burden of office, but the bustle which distracts and amuses us-The reason why we prefer the hunt to the kill.
IX. 168

Philosophers. All very well to shout out to someone who does not know himself to make his own way to God! All very well to tell it to a man who does not know himself!
X. 174

Pity the atheists who are searching. For are they not unhappy enough? Revile those who boast about it.
XIII. 188

Atheism, sign of strength of mind but only up to a certain point.
XIII. 189

There are few true Christians. Even as far as faith goes. There are many who believe, but through superstition. There are many who do not believe, but through licentiousness. There are few in between

...

I do not include those who lead a truly devout life, nor all those who believe through a feeling of the heart.
XIV. 210

There is nothing so consistent with reason as the denial of reason.
XIV. 213

The metaphysical proofs of God are so far removed from man's reasoning, and so complicated, that they have little force. When they do help some people it is only at the moment when they see the demonstration. An hour later they are afraid of having made a mistake.
XV. 222

Just as Jesus Christ remained unrecognized by his fellow men, so his truth remains hidden among ordinary thinking, with no outward difference. Just like the Eurcharist and ordinary bread.
XIX. 258

Those we see to be Christians without knowing the prophecies and the proofs are no less able judges than those who do know them. They judge with their hearts, as others judge with their minds. It is God himself who inclines them to believe, and it is this way that they are most efficaciously convinced.
XXVIII. 414

Evil is easy, it appears in countless ways: good is almost unique.
XXXIII. 454

But is it probable that probability brings certainty?
XXXIV. 496

Nothing is so intolerable for man as to be in a state of complete tranquillity, without passions, without business, without diversion, without effort. Then he feels his nothingness, his abandonment, his inadequacy, his dependence, his helplessness, his emptiness. At once from the depths of his soul arises boredom, gloom, sadness, grief, vexation, despair.
XXXIV. 515

Vanity is so anchored in the human heart that a soldier, a cadet, a cook, a kitchen porter boasts, and wants to have admirers, and even philosophers, want them, and those who write against them want the prestige of having written well, and those who read them want the prestige of having read them, and I, writing this, perhaps have this desire, and those who will read this ...
XXXIV. 520

Man is neither angel nor beast, and unhappily whoever wants to act the angel, acts the beast.
XXXV. 557

What is the self?

A man who sits at the window to watch the passers-by; can I say that he sat there to see me if I pass by? No, for he is not thinking of me in particular. But someone who loves a person because of her beauty, does he love her? No, because smallpox, which will destroy beauty without destroying the person, will ensure that he no longer loves her.

And if someone loves me for my judgement, for my memory, is it me they love? No, because I can lose these qualities without losing myself. Where is the self, then, if it is neither in the body nor in the soul?
XXXV.567

Nothing is so difficult from the world's point of view as the religious life, and nothing is easier than leading it from God's.
XXXV. 572

I take it as self-evident that, if everyone knew what was said about him, there would not be four friends in the world. This is clear from the quarrels which are occasioned by the indiscreet remarks which we sometimes make.
XXXVIII. 646

It is right that so pure a God discloses himself only to those whose hearts are purified.
XXXVIII. 646

We are not satisfied with the life we have in ourselves and in our own being: we want to lead an imaginary life in the minds of other people, and so we make an effort to impress. We constantly strive to embellish and preserve our imaginary being, and neglect the real one. And if we are calm, or generous, or loyal we are anxious to let it be known so that we can bind these virtues to our other being, and would rather detach them from our real selves to unite them with the other. We would happily be cowards if that gained us the reputation of being brave.
XXXVIII. 654

Nothing more surely underlines an extreme weakness of mind than the failure to recognize the unhappiness of someone without God.
XLVI. 681

Before examining the proofs of the Christian religion, I find I must point out how wrong men are who live their lives indifferent to the search for truthfulness of something which is so important to them, and which affects them so closely.
XLVI. 682

Labels: ,


Read More ...