From Critique of Everyday Life:
The law of transformation of the irrational
The mysterious, the sacred and the diabolical, magic, ritual, the mystical—at first all of these were lived with intensity. They were part of the real lives of human beings—thoroughly authentic, affective and passionate forces. Then, with the appearance and development of rationality, they were doubly modified, along with their relationship to everyday life.
(a) Demotion—Gradually ritual becomes gestural. The diabolical becomes shameful, ugly. Myth becomes legend, tale, story, fable, anecdote, etc.
Finally, the marvelous and the supernatural fall inevitably to the level of the weird
and the bizarre.
(b) Internal transformation and displacement—Everything that once represented an affective immediate and primitive relationship between man and the world—everything that was serious, deep, cosmic—is displaced and sooner or later gradually enters the domain of play, or art, or just simply becomes amusing or ironic verbalization.
This internal transformation takes place at the same time as the ‘demotion’ mentioned above. It is inseparable from it. Thus as man develops and becomes rational, the old primitive irrationality maintains its connections with his everyday life. (end quote)
I am someone who works to craft writing, and in particular, creative nonfiction (which is shaped out of experiences of the everyday, mine and others) Given this, I was struck and disturbed by Lefebvre’s explanation of the “law of transformation of the irrational.”
I read this part of The Critique of Everyday Life not long after viewing a lecture on Art and Genius by Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of the memoir, Eat Pray Love ( http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html ). In it, she discusses her own personal struggle as a writer to come to terms with her own creative process as well as her personal success and the implications that it has for her future.
In trying to find ways to reconcile the challenge of the process of creation and the struggles of ego that come along with it, Gilbert went back and looked at the different ways treated art and the creative process throughout history. In doing so, she was amazed at how “rational” we have become as human beings in the way we think about art. The creative spark in man, stemming from his relationship to the physical world and the mystical spaces within it, has been reduced as Lefebvre notes to “the domain of play, or art, or just simply becomes amusing or ironic verbalization.” Facing the possibility that her greatest success may be behind her and she has another forty years or so of work in front of her, Gilbert wanted models from other society’s that would help artists manage the difficulties and responsibilities facing artists.
She discovered that in ancient Greece and Rome, people believed creativity did not come from human beings but to human beings from unknown divine sources for unknown purposes. The Romans called this source a “genius,” which was not a gifted human being but a divine entity that would inspire and support the artist in their creative work.
It was in the Renaissance, she said, that people went from referring to an artist as “having a” genius to “being a” genius. “This was mistake,” she says. For in combining the artist with the muse, all of the responsibility, the burden of success or failure, is on the shoulders of the artist. Not only is this a heavy load to bear, but it does not account for the moments of inspiration, of those moments that every artist experiences when ideas come from an unknown source and provide a way in which to perceive a story, an image, an idea, an issue that the artist could not come up with on his or her own. This replacement of genius from outside to inside also reduces the complex experience Lefebvre discussed where:
“The mysterious, the sacred and the diabolical, magic, ritual, the mystical—at first all of these were lived with intensity. They were part of the real lives of human beings—thoroughly authentic, affective and passionate forces.”
I cannot tell you the number of times in my life that I have told to be “practical” and “rational” when considering my work, the product of my daily life. My own proclamation of wanting to write is met with furrowed eyebrows and suggestions of law school. When I tell people I am in school getting my master’s in creative writing, I am asked if I want to teach. They are asking me how I will make a living not what it is in me to do in my life.
It is the job of a writer to be an excellent observer, to make connections and thus make meaning, and to use language as the medium to provide insight into the world around him or her. I believe that the “transformation of the irrational” reduces the work that we do as artists and human beings. It undervalues the importance of the way we interact with the world, not just in physical actions, but in the ideas we have and the unlikely and inexplicable connections we make. It reduces our lives to what can be experienced tangibly. Myth is reduced to anecdote, talismans to toys, and art to hobby. This is dangerous territory when we cannot honor both the need for routine and practicality in everyday life along with the need to experience the mystical and unexplainable.
~Lisa
Monday, February 23, 2009
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