I remember when I read David Copperfield for the first time. After I had finished it, I wept. I felt that I had learned something that I could not explain to anyone else who had not had the same experience, but that it was more important than anything I knew that I could explain.
Perhaps it wasn’t so much that I learned something (from an intellectual perspective), but something inside me had changed for the better. I was better—kinder, more compassionate, less judgemental—because I had internalized something from David’s character. I don’t want to push Dickens’ work too hard; I realize some people detest his sentimentalism, and that’s fine, but there are other works that have a similar refining effect, works that make us better somehow when we internalize them.
Some may say that as a work approaches the divine ideal, we get this kind of an effect. Some call it “art”. I’m not an expert in this by any means, but here are a few works that have had this same refining effect for me:
Dvorák’s 9th Symphony, Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Pat Metheny Group’s “The Way Up”, Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo, Bach’s “Mass in B Minor”, Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, Debussy’s “La Cathedrale Engloutie”, Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. A few visual art works do it as well. Your list will probably differ from mine, but I bet you have a list of works that you feel you’re a better person for having experienced.
I think there is a component about ourselves that we don’t understand well, an element capable of improvement through indirect means, and also through direct exposure to goodness and excellence. I’ve also noticed an opposite effect—again, this is for myself—with entertainment of a baser nature.
Just as there are works which tend to refine me (as much as I let them), there are works which tend to dull that refinement easily, and without much effort on my part. I don’t want to dwell on this much, because it’s probably different for everyone, but I believe it’s a real phenomenon.
Ezekiel the Prophet wrote this in the 6th century BCE:
There is a conspiracy of her prophets in the midst thereof, like a roaring lion ravening the prey; they have devoured souls; they have taken the treasure and precious things; they have made her many widows in the midst thereof. Her priests have violated my law, and have profaned mine holy things: they have put no difference between the holy and profane, neither have they shewed difference between the unclean and the clean, and have hid their eyes from my sabbaths, and I am profaned among them.
(Ezekiel 22:25-26, KJV)
Putting difference between the holy and the profane, the unclean and the clean is one of the marks of refinement. Exposure and contemplation of the best humanity has to offer is inspiring and drives me to pursue excellence in my own sphere.
It is unfortunate that most people do not find their vocation in life, or perhaps other pursuits (distractions, such as basic survival or family harmony) prohibit them from dedicating themselves fully to their passions. It is heartening, though, that any of us may still find fulfillment in excelling in our humanity: that living a good life is still a noble (albeit less visible) expression of what we really believe we are on the inside.
posted on Sun, 02 Nov 2008 at 20:52 | permanent link |