“It can still be ours, is the thing. There is a great deal of handwringing about whether we can still enjoy the work of hideous men. The question is not typically how to root out influence. It is whether we can still enjoy, but we are reaching for another word beyond it. What we are asking is whether we can still experience it without becoming these men.”

– Patricia Lockwood, “Where be your jibes now?” London Review of Books. July 13, 2023

“I also know that when their failures of imagination were pointed out to them, they behaved as if that revelation was something aggressive being done to them, and they used their power to deliver punishment and bullying, and they knew they could get away with it, because the national current always flows to facilitate empowered abuse.

I’d assumed that the intentions of the creators of my favorite TV show were uncomplicated. And I was wrong. It turns out that in some ways, I was another John Locke, putting my faith in the wrong places in search of meaning, even while remaining certain that there is meaning to be found.”

-A. R. Moxon, “What is lost?” armoxon.substack.com. June 25, 2023

I found these two pieces addressing the complicated legacies of cultural touchstones (for some) to raise a fascinating question about the enjoyment of art. As a starting point, I think of art as an artifact of the creative process. It is what you are left with when “art” has been made.

So, in broad strokes, the artifact is different from the creator. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, no one claims that the faults of God are reflected in the creation. They argue that the problem is in the creation. It’s original sin. It’s taking partial knowledge and applying it, sub specie aeternitatis, with the inevitable consequence that the part left out makes the part left false in some sense. That’s with a Creator that is assumed to be without flaws. If a perfect Creator creates things that are flawed, what hope does a flawed creator have?

But, as A.R. Moxon points out, part of the point of experiencing any art is the questions it raises about ourselves. We are all flawed. But, most of us, never want to examine those flaws. There’s also a sound reason for that. Dwelling on flaws robs us of our agency. We might believe we aren’t strong enough, beautiful enough, nice enough, smart enough, etc. But, compared to what?

The point of comparison is often our social milieu, and social milieus change just as the people who comprise them do. There is value in doing this kind of comparison, to grow our compassion for ourselves and others. Growth comes from recognizing our failures. But, it is easier to learn by learning from the mistakes of others, even mistakes we might not make.

Maybe the reason David Foster Wallace had such perception into hideous men was because he was hideous himself. To read him, we can also experience the hideousness of ourselves and others. But, does art that speaks to hideousness have nothing of value for the people experiencing it?

On the other end, does not the fact that even hideous men, ones accused of the most horrible crimes, create magnificent art that every person has qualities that cut against their flaws? Does it not suggest that redemption can be found, for anyone?

Part of me wants to believe that. But, there is another part that thinks that some of us are lost. That there is no redemption. That the best thing to do is cut it off and put an end to it. There are times I even feel this about my own life.What have I done that is of value? Who am I? Have I loved well enough?

And, truth be told, I often look and find much that is lacking, both in myself and others. But, then again, maybe it is as Leonard Cohen would have it: “There is a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in.”