Mendacity as an Art Form
I had occasion to respond recently to a lady friend of mine (Catherine, we’ll call her) who had quoted at length to me a well-worded statement written, years ago, by Herbert Spenser. The philosopher had broached eloquently about the virtues of the search for knowledge, contending that, even though there would be ups and downs, eventually knowledge would come to the fore, saving the human race from a fate worse than death.
As chance would have it, I had been privileged the night before writing to Catherine to watch a movie on the television that related (in a way) to both Spenser’s and Plato’s contributions to the art form we know as government. With the lesson taught me by the movie in mind, I replied to Catherine as follows....
As you know, Herbert Spenser is the guy who coined the phrase, “survival of the fittest,” and who ultimately extended that idea into Social Darwinism. We gave that movement a fairly sound thrashing a month or so ago. But as Mary Shelley’s husband once wrote, it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good, so even with the pen of the currently neglected Mr. Spenser, some good must surely have been written. The encomium to Reason you quoted is one of them. (Better though that we should call it a “eulogy,” praise for the dead.)
I watched a film last night, “The Shape of Things.” It portrayed the dramatic happenings that ensued when an offbeat young lady, charming in her ways, took a nerdy young man as a lover. Almost immediately the young man began to change for what most of us would call the better. He became more confident, more assertive, even better looking. A few complications cropped up along the way, most of which were of the usual coming of age variety. He managed during these diversions to have a mild, one-afternoon affair with his best friend’s sweetheart. It seems she had always “liked” him best, but until his recent changes, had not been able to shake off the effects of his more repulsive qualities. His new girl friend, the offbeat young lady – who not altogether coincidentally was an art student working on her doctorate – was extremely sensitive to the nuances of other people’s behavior, and from a single glance between the young man and his best friend’s sweetheart, recognized that something had happened they would not wish to speak of. The perceptive artist, of course, spoke of it, and by clever manipulation, was able to lead her young lover to disavow his best friend and his best friend’s sweetheart.
Then came the young artist lady’s promised show, in which she was to present the work she had completed during the past semester. The work? Why of course, the young man she had selected. He was her clay, her water color, the material from which she had molded the work of art that he had become. The emotional impact created by the unveiling of her work cannot be conveyed in words, but the message the playwright communicated with this drama could not be missed (and it was a drama, not a youthful romance thing as it first appeared to be). Neil LaBute – the writer/director – was saying that we the people are the medium being molded by the artists who determine what shall enter our minds. We are the work of advertisers, news media, politicians, all those who have clear ideas of what they wish to sell, or the world to become, and the means to make it happen.
What has this to do with Herbert Spenser? Well, which is fitter, the sculptor or his clay?
The film I watched (and was shaped by) also relates to Spenser in a more subtle way. The philosopher, Benedict Spinoza, wrote that reason can only deal with reason, that an emotion can be overcome only by a more powerful emotion. Spenser, in the passage you quoted, points out that knowledge will eventually rule the world. LaBute suggests that it already does. It is the knowledge possessed by those who mold our lives, who play with us as puppeteers play with their marionettes. They know that our strings are made of emotional fiber and that no amount of reasonable discourse among us can break those strings. Those who know to play upon our emotions need never fear that we will reason our way to freedom. They have given us the objects we are to love, and taught us to love them.
I never understood the fear some people have of consumerism until I watched “The Shape of Things.” We consume ideas just as readily as we consume Cocoa Puffs.
["Happy birthday, MM." Thanks C. How nice of you to remember.]
As chance would have it, I had been privileged the night before writing to Catherine to watch a movie on the television that related (in a way) to both Spenser’s and Plato’s contributions to the art form we know as government. With the lesson taught me by the movie in mind, I replied to Catherine as follows....
As you know, Herbert Spenser is the guy who coined the phrase, “survival of the fittest,” and who ultimately extended that idea into Social Darwinism. We gave that movement a fairly sound thrashing a month or so ago. But as Mary Shelley’s husband once wrote, it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good, so even with the pen of the currently neglected Mr. Spenser, some good must surely have been written. The encomium to Reason you quoted is one of them. (Better though that we should call it a “eulogy,” praise for the dead.)
I watched a film last night, “The Shape of Things.” It portrayed the dramatic happenings that ensued when an offbeat young lady, charming in her ways, took a nerdy young man as a lover. Almost immediately the young man began to change for what most of us would call the better. He became more confident, more assertive, even better looking. A few complications cropped up along the way, most of which were of the usual coming of age variety. He managed during these diversions to have a mild, one-afternoon affair with his best friend’s sweetheart. It seems she had always “liked” him best, but until his recent changes, had not been able to shake off the effects of his more repulsive qualities. His new girl friend, the offbeat young lady – who not altogether coincidentally was an art student working on her doctorate – was extremely sensitive to the nuances of other people’s behavior, and from a single glance between the young man and his best friend’s sweetheart, recognized that something had happened they would not wish to speak of. The perceptive artist, of course, spoke of it, and by clever manipulation, was able to lead her young lover to disavow his best friend and his best friend’s sweetheart.
Then came the young artist lady’s promised show, in which she was to present the work she had completed during the past semester. The work? Why of course, the young man she had selected. He was her clay, her water color, the material from which she had molded the work of art that he had become. The emotional impact created by the unveiling of her work cannot be conveyed in words, but the message the playwright communicated with this drama could not be missed (and it was a drama, not a youthful romance thing as it first appeared to be). Neil LaBute – the writer/director – was saying that we the people are the medium being molded by the artists who determine what shall enter our minds. We are the work of advertisers, news media, politicians, all those who have clear ideas of what they wish to sell, or the world to become, and the means to make it happen.
What has this to do with Herbert Spenser? Well, which is fitter, the sculptor or his clay?
The film I watched (and was shaped by) also relates to Spenser in a more subtle way. The philosopher, Benedict Spinoza, wrote that reason can only deal with reason, that an emotion can be overcome only by a more powerful emotion. Spenser, in the passage you quoted, points out that knowledge will eventually rule the world. LaBute suggests that it already does. It is the knowledge possessed by those who mold our lives, who play with us as puppeteers play with their marionettes. They know that our strings are made of emotional fiber and that no amount of reasonable discourse among us can break those strings. Those who know to play upon our emotions need never fear that we will reason our way to freedom. They have given us the objects we are to love, and taught us to love them.
I never understood the fear some people have of consumerism until I watched “The Shape of Things.” We consume ideas just as readily as we consume Cocoa Puffs.
["Happy birthday, MM." Thanks C. How nice of you to remember.]
posted by Benedict S. at 9:53 AM
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