- Joined
- Dec 10, 2009
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- 430
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My wife says I was born in the wrong century.
Starting way back in high skool, I had a teacher who taught Plath with such passion I couldn't fathom. That began my long road to a general dislike for 20th century literature. Pardon me momentarily while I paint with a broad brush. 20th century literature just flat leaves me cold. There are exceptions, of course, but the general trend of modern literature is one of a love/hate of self. The literature revolves around ME, MY didtrust for authority, tradition, faith and anything generally positive. I know, I know, that's not true of all modern literature, but it is the general trend.
My lit profs in college, of course, tried their collective best to get me to change my ways but to no avail. I found their preaching about open mindedness juxtaposed against their reactionary vitriol towards my beliefs rather hypocritical and I probably dug my heels in more than I should have.
My general attitude toward art in all forms is that it exists to show us the ideals, the beauty and the possibility of what CAN be. It needs to inspire me to something better. I've lived my whole life believing that cursing the darkness only gives one a sore throat...in the dark. If you want light, you better get off your butt and build a fire. I can get doom in the newspaper...don't need it for my art.
My profs, of course, ran through the usual points about how artists are now free to express their pain where in centuries past it had to be couched in other forms. That I was not enlightened enough to see the wisdom of modern forms. That humanity in modern times faced existential threats never before seen and our collective reaction to those threats must be documented and explored.
Humanity faces nothing it hasn't faced since we crawled out of the caves. Black death, anyone? I'd say having one third of your town mysteriously dying is a pretty grave threat.
Anyway, the point of this thread is not to inflame. I understand most of you like modern literature and I'm not calling you names for doing so. I'm older now and perhaps my perspective has changed enough for me to look at this with fresh eyes.
Explain to me why Sallinger is superior to Shakespeare or why Pynchon trumps Chaucer. My ears are open and I await enlightenment.
EG
Starting way back in high skool, I had a teacher who taught Plath with such passion I couldn't fathom. That began my long road to a general dislike for 20th century literature. Pardon me momentarily while I paint with a broad brush. 20th century literature just flat leaves me cold. There are exceptions, of course, but the general trend of modern literature is one of a love/hate of self. The literature revolves around ME, MY didtrust for authority, tradition, faith and anything generally positive. I know, I know, that's not true of all modern literature, but it is the general trend.
My lit profs in college, of course, tried their collective best to get me to change my ways but to no avail. I found their preaching about open mindedness juxtaposed against their reactionary vitriol towards my beliefs rather hypocritical and I probably dug my heels in more than I should have.
My general attitude toward art in all forms is that it exists to show us the ideals, the beauty and the possibility of what CAN be. It needs to inspire me to something better. I've lived my whole life believing that cursing the darkness only gives one a sore throat...in the dark. If you want light, you better get off your butt and build a fire. I can get doom in the newspaper...don't need it for my art.
My profs, of course, ran through the usual points about how artists are now free to express their pain where in centuries past it had to be couched in other forms. That I was not enlightened enough to see the wisdom of modern forms. That humanity in modern times faced existential threats never before seen and our collective reaction to those threats must be documented and explored.
Humanity faces nothing it hasn't faced since we crawled out of the caves. Black death, anyone? I'd say having one third of your town mysteriously dying is a pretty grave threat.
Anyway, the point of this thread is not to inflame. I understand most of you like modern literature and I'm not calling you names for doing so. I'm older now and perhaps my perspective has changed enough for me to look at this with fresh eyes.
Explain to me why Sallinger is superior to Shakespeare or why Pynchon trumps Chaucer. My ears are open and I await enlightenment.
EG