On Evolutionary Psychology As An Approach To Literary Criticism

 

Quillette essay by Helen Pluckrose on evolutionary psychology as an approach to literary criticism: 

https://t.co/mc9MADdE9l

My brief response with postscripts:

So if I read philosophy texts on truth and on beauty (let alone evolutionary psychology on them), then will I better understand Keats’ Ode On A Grecian Urn that ends, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,"--that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know”?

That’s what the above essay in effect says.

A mistake in it is to turn to evolutionary psychology in literary criticism as antidote to POMO. A better answer, I’d argue, is to see literature as human creation best understood by what its words aesthetically reveal to us. 

That way we can avoid, for example:

“…he argues…sexual jealousy is an evolved cognitive mechanism in men, and provides evidence that the same neuropeptide underpins affection to females and aggression towards rivals in male mammals.”

in the service of literary criticism. 

P.S. (see my 3 points) Weak is the way she argues Othello isn’t  about race. Not that it is, but she quotes those who say race is but a construct. Troubles: 1. it’s controverted; 2. query, literary works about race; and 3, inexpert literary critics opining about race in their criticism.

And on Wallace Stevens’ The Snowman:

As per my recent few points, let someone bring evolutionary psychology to bear on this hauntingly beautiful and profound poem, and I'll note that the discordance between the latter and the former discloses someone with the sensibility of a fence post.”

THREE OF MY NOTES ON BOB DYLAN, ALLEN GINSBERG AND LIONEL TRILLING FROM SEAN WILENTZ’S BOOK ON DYLAN’

From Sean Wilentz on Dylan’s links to the beats, especially Ginsberg. I agree with Trilling’s criticism of the “absolutism” of this version of Romanticism. And I agree with his criticism of this Romanticist conception of artistic genius but say “if only because” is too narrowing. 

In 1945, Ginsberg touted Rimbaud to Trilling as a prophet, “unaffected by moral compunction, by allegiance to the confused standards of a declining age.” Trilling duly read up on Rimbaud and reported that he found in the poet’s rejection of conventional social values “an absolutism which is foreign to my nature, and which I combat.” The idea that artistic genius arose out of derangement of the senses was, to Trilling, a dismal legacy of what he called the Romantic movement’s solipsistic, hedonist conceit that mental disturbance and aberration were sources of spiritual health and illumination “if only because they controvert the ways of respectable society.”

————-

 Here’s Wilentz on part of Ginsberg’s response to Dylan, which response is arguably self-diminishing. 

After all, isn’t there a tension between valourizing “individual lived experience” and then dedicating oneself to “poeticizing” it “‘through the conscious mind’”?

“In direct contrast, Ginsberg and the Beats developed an aesthetic that renounced intellectual abstractions and poeticized individual lived experience—what Ginsberg described in 1948, in a letter to Trilling, as “‘the shadowy and heterogeneous experience of life through the conscious mind.‘“

——————-

For all their differences, Ginsberg and Trilling admired Whitman. But here too a difference. Ginsberg venerated him and often followed his open, expansive style. Trilling professorially admiringly noted Whitman’s revolutionary poetic strengths but criticized him too. 

Via AI:

“Lionel Trilling’s view of Walt Whitman’s technical skill as a poet reflects a balanced acknowledgment of Whitman’s innovation alongside an awareness of its potential limitations. Trilling recognized Whitman as a groundbreaking figure in American poetry for his rejection of conventional poetic forms, particularly rhyme and meter, and his embrace of free verse. This stylistic liberation, according to Trilling, was essential to expressing Whitman’s expansive vision of democracy and individuality.

However, Trilling was also critical of the unevenness that could arise from Whitman’s free verse technique. He noted that Whitman’s reliance on repetition, cataloging, and sweeping declarations could sometimes lead to rhetorical overindulgence or a lack of subtlety. For Trilling, Whitman’s strength lay in the originality and energy of his poetic voice, but this energy occasionally came at the expense of precision and technical refinement.

Ultimately, Trilling appreciated Whitman’s technical choices as aligned with his thematic goals, even if they were not always polished in a traditional sense. He saw Whitman’s innovations as crucial to his revolutionary impact, both in poetry and in articulating a uniquely American literary ethos.”

WAS PETE SEEGER’S AND ALAN LOMAX’S ANGER AT DLYAN GOING ELECTRIC DUE TO A PERCEIVED SETBACK TO BRINGING COMMUNISM IN AMERICA

 Via Grok,

The extent to which political hostility towards Bob Dylan's electric performance at Newport was informed by communists and communist sympathizers like Pete Seeger and Alan Lomax feeling "betrayed" in their efforts to promote communism in America is a nuanced topic. Here's an analysis based on the information available:

Pete Seeger was indeed a known communist sympathizer, having been a member of the Communist Party USA in the 1930s and 1940s. His involvement in folk music was partly driven by a belief in using music as a tool for social and political change, aligning with communist ideals of collective action and social justice.

Alan Lomax, while not as overtly political in his public persona as Seeger, was deeply involved in documenting and promoting folk music, which during the folk revival had strong links to leftist and progressive politics, including communism. His efforts in recording and preserving folk music often highlighted songs with social commentary and protest themes.

The term "betrayal" in this context might be too strong or direct. However, there's a sense that Dylan's move away from the folk music scene, which was seen as a vehicle for political messaging, was interpreted by some as him distancing himself from the political causes he was previously associated with. This was especially poignant given Dylan's earlier songs like "Blowin' in the Wind" and "The Times They Are a-Changin'," which resonated with civil rights and anti-war movements.

The sentiment that Dylan's shift to electric music hurt the broader political movement, including communist sympathies, is more about the perceived loss of a cultural ambassador for progressive causes rather than a direct setback to communism in America. Various analyses suggest that the reaction was more about Dylan not aligning with the political expectations set by his earlier work than about him explicitly undermining communist efforts.

There was indeed a political dimension where Dylan's actions were seen by some as not supporting the left-wing politics that figures like Seeger advocated. However, these sentiments are not universally agreed upon and are part of a broader narrative where Dylan's personal political stance was seen as ambiguous or shifting.

To the extent it existed, hostility was more about Dylan's perceived abandonment of the folk movement's political ethos rather than a direct impact on the promotion of communism. 

The folk music scene was a melting pot of various leftist ideologies, where communism was just one aspect. The "betrayal" felt by Seeger and others was more aligned with Dylan moving away from the use of music for explicit political activism, rather than specifically harming the spread of communism.

The the motivations and reactions of individuals like Seeger and Lomax were complex and multifaceted, not solely driven by their political ideologies but also by their artistic commitments and expectations from Dylan as a figure within the folk music community.

WHY DYLAN WENT ELECTRIC: WAS IT FOR ART OR POLITICS? IT WAS ART!

Via Grok,

The rupture associated with Bob Dylan's transition from acoustic to electric music at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 was a complex event influenced by multiple factors, with both the act of going electric and Dylan's perceived shift away from political activism playing significant roles:

Dylan's decision to perform with electric instruments was initially controversial because it was seen by many in the folk community as a deviation from the purity and authenticity associated with acoustic folk music. This act represented a broader cultural shift from folk to rock, which was not just about the music but also about the perceived commercialization and dilution of the folk movement's ideals. The reaction at Newport was mixed, with some audience members cheering while others booed, highlighting a divide between those who saw this as artistic evolution and those who felt it was a betrayal of folk music's roots.

The rupture associated with Bob Dylan's transition from acoustic to electric music at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 was a complex event influenced by multiple factors, with both the act of going electric and Dylan's perceived shift away from political activism playing significant roles:

Dylan's decision to perform with electric instruments was initially controversial because it was seen by many in the folk community as a deviation from the purity and authenticity associated with acoustic folk music. This act represented a broader cultural shift from folk to rock, which was not just about the music but also about the perceived commercialization and dilution of the folk movement's ideals. 

The reaction at Newport was mixed, with some audience members cheering while others booed, highlighting a divide between those who saw this as artistic evolution and those who felt it was a betrayal of folk music's roots.

Beyond the musical style, Dylan's move was also interpreted as a distancing from the political ideologies associated with some folk musicians, including those with Communist sympathies. The folk scene in the 1960s, particularly in places like Greenwich Village, was intertwined with leftist political activism. Dylan's shift in focus from protest songs to more personal and abstract lyrics was seen by some as an explicit or implicit rejection of these political commitments. This is evidenced by comments from contemporaries like Irwin Silber, who expressed concern not just with the electricity but with Dylan's move away from his earlier political themes. 

 Dylan's motivations for going electric were multifaceted. He was known for his resistance to being pigeonholed into one genre or role, particularly that of the "protest singer." His decision to go electric was partly about artistic freedom and exploration, aligning with his personal growth as an artist rather than strictly political statements or rejections. However, the timing and manner of his shift, coupled with his earlier association with protest music, led to interpretations that he was turning away from the political engagement expected by some in the folk community.

While going electric was the visible and immediate catalyst for the rupture, it was deeply intertwined with Dylan's broader rejection of being defined by his earlier political roles, which some saw as synonymous with Communist or leftist politics. This narrative reflects not only Dylan's personal artistic journey but also the changing landscape of music and politics in the 1960s.

In Elijah Wald's book, "Dylan Goes Electric! Newport, Seeger, Dylan, and the Night that Split the Sixties," the emphasis is more on the cultural and musical implications of Bob Dylan going electric rather than it being a repudiation of the acoustic folk tradition or a rejection of Communist politics. Wald explores the event at Newport Folk Festival in 1965 as a moment that symbolized a shift in music culture, highlighting the tension between folk purists and the emerging rock music scene. He provides context by detailing the history of the Newport Folk Festival, the folk revival movement, and Dylan's relationship with Pete Seeger, who was a significant figure in folk music with strong leftist leanings.

Wald discusses how Dylan's electric performance was less about rejecting politics and more about artistic evolution and personal expression. He notes that Dylan's move to electric music was seen by some as a departure from the "duty" to protest in the folk genre's traditional style, but this was not framed as a direct rejection of Communist politics or progressivism. Instead, it's presented as Dylan's response to the changing musical landscape and his desire to explore new sounds, which inadvertently caused a rift among folk purists who valued the political message as much as the music itself.

Therefore, while the book touches on political elements, particularly through the lens of Seeger's influence, the primary focus is on the musical and cultural impact of Dylan's decision to "go electric." Wald's narrative suggests that this moment was pivotal not just for Dylan but for the broader music industry, marking a significant shift in how music was perceived and consumed.

A Reading of Wallace Stevens’ Poem A Postcard From the Volcano

 A Postcard from the Volcano

WALLACE STEVENS

Children picking up our bones

Will never know that these were once   

As quick as foxes on the hill;

And that in autumn, when the grapes   

Made sharp air sharper by their smell   

These had a being, breathing frost;

And least will guess that with our bones   

We left much more, left what still is   

The look of things, left what we felt

At what we saw. The spring clouds blow   

Above the shuttered mansion-house,   

Beyond our gate and the windy sky

Cries out a literate despair.

We knew for long the mansion's look   

And what we said of it became

A part of what it is ... Children,   

Still weaving budded aureoles,

Will speak our speech and never know,

Will say of the mansion that it seems   

As if he that lived there left behind   

A spirit storming in blank walls,

A dirty house in a gutted world,

A tatter of shadows peaked to white,   

Smeared with the gold of the opulent sun.

—————————-

The speaker starts by saying we’re impermanent. We leave little behind. He sees future children, unaware of the fullness of our lives, coming across only bits of us in our remaining "bones" and the "look of things". 

He notes the sad tension between how actively and fully we once lived—"quick as foxes on the hill," sensitive to the sharp smells of autumn—and our skeletal remaining bits.

Seen from another angle, there’s a sad tension between the children getting the world we shaped but unaware of the fullness and depth of our lives.

After “At what we saw”, the speaker shifts from his sad contemplation of the future and turns his attention to what’s immediately around him, and which grounds his contemplation. 

Doesn’t the imagery of spring clouds blowing over a “shuttered mansion-house”—a complex image of what was once grandly domestic and is now an apparent, cordoned off, useless relic —-replicate these tensions such that what he perceives in what he sees surrounding him is the “windy sky” crying “out a literate despair”? 

The speaker’s taking in of the surroundings becomes his expressed perception of them infused with, informed by, his expressed interpretation of them, namely the poem.

The speaker still in the present begins to iterate, not reiterate, his central theme by dealing with the continuing image of the shuttered  mansion. That it is, in the present, “shuttered” suggests that the speaker’s contemplation of how future children will see remnants of the past has roots in what he and his generation—“we”—think of remnants they themselves have encountered. 

So, in some positive contrast to the discontinuity between past and present, there are in fact some continuities. The mansion has become part of “what *we* said of it”. And children to come “Will speak our speech and never know…” Unbeknownst to them, the children will be perpetuating a generation’s long idea or narrative of what the mansion is.

In that continuity within what is discontinuous is the poetic redemption of “A dirty house in a gutted world…” For the “tatter of shadows” are “peaked to white” and “are smeared with  the gold of the opulent sun.” 

The mix of ugliness, “smeared”, with the poetically beautiful, “gold of the opulent sun”, suggests how the creative imagination is part of that continuity, and how the shabby real and the opulence of creative imagination are inextricable. 

The mansion is more than just dirtily and shabbily useless even as it is and is shuttered in a “gutted world”. By such imagination it is inspirited in unknown continuation of what the speaker and his friends—“we”—had imagined of it:

“Will say of the mansion that it seems   

As if he that lived there left behind   

A spirit storming in blank walls,”

From literate despair to the opulent sun’s gold is a thematic movement from literate despair to poetic possibility.