Poetry and the Relevance of Subjectivity
For me, the reason poetry is important is like any other forms of arts, it articulates what inside our minds. But unlike paintings, or sculptures, or instrumental songs, it speaks in our day-to-day words, in a language we understand. One could argue that in a sense, it is more pragmatic. Or as Robert Frost more eloquently put it,
“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.”
Or, let Aan Mansyur, in a more urgency put it,
“Sajak dibuat agar kata-kata tidak meledak semaunya di jantungmu.”
Poetry is a message, a tool, so very powerful it could unite and start a revolt from the oppressed (Peringatan by Widji Thukul) or convince a lover’s decoded feeling (An Answer to a Critic of Sorts by Charles Bukowski). It could whisper about a giant societal issue that disturbs many (The Opposites Game by Brendan Constantine) or really, pour out all these feelings about a memory overwhelmingly vivid, so precious, the common ordinary ways of forming words is no longer fitting (First Kiss by Tim Seibles). It could provide solace to your own worrying heart too, like a warm cup of tea, or an expensive therapist (In the Arms of the Beloved by Rumi).
Riwayat by Widji Thukul - taken from Nyayian Akar Rumput (2014)
Yes, the list can be endless.
However, for someone as cynical as I am, loving poetry is a line seemingly went too south these days. Even more so with the rise of modern poetry, that overthrows dramatic lines with multiple spaces (re: 2.5 million sold copies of Rupi Kaur’s Milk and Honey). I mean, how could a book filled with sentences and skips, could wept mainstream audience and deemed to define poetry scene?
Let me write it without clicking enter.
“the way they leave tells you everything.”
What is that but a mere sentence, really?
Ah, but, you know, it’s a means of communication, right? And if it resonates with a lot of people, there’s nothing wrong with it, right? Isn’t it the most liberating thing about art, you don’t have to justify yourself?
….Right?
David Hume, a Scottish philosopher in the enlightenment era argues that there is no single, objective, predestined form of beauty that we can relate to. In his book, Of the Standard of Taste and Other Essays, he wrote,
“Beauty is no quality in things themselves: It exists merely in the mind which contemplates them; and each mind perceives a different beauty.”
Or as you might have heard the saying, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Some of us might have sighed with relief now. We have saved ourselves from yet another argument why a poetry we love, we love, or why we hate a certain piece without having to hurt someone’s feelings.
But David Hume would probably ask in return, “Isn’t that just lazy, my friend? Really, you settle with that?”
Now, there might not be an ideal form of beauty, but that doesn’t mean that everyone’s opinion about good art is equally valid. What it is to be understood here is that to discuss what good art is and to discuss someone's opinion about what good art is, are two different conversations to be having. David Hume is presenting a way not to judge the art itself, since there is no objective truth in it, but to judge our ability to judge. In other words, he is questioning the relevance of our subjectivity.
We rely on our subjectivity to decide which good or bad art is all the time and we point to very specific things about the art to justify our claims. Of course, even the best of us can only savor so little amount of beautiful creations on this earth, hence our subjectivity is only a way of efficiency and navigation. Now, our next question would be: what makes one’s subjectivity more valid than the others? For this, in the same essay, Hume laid out a very dense answer,
"Strong sense, united to delicate sentiment, improved by practice, perfected by comparison, and cleared of all prejudice, can alone entitle critics to this valuable character; and the joint verdict of such, wherever they are to be found, is the true standard of taste and beauty"
What is Hume getting at here? Sure, we may not be able to say that this piece of art is objectively better than another piece of art, but is everyone's ability to judge things really the same? Can we say that some people are better judges of art than others? David Hume would nod eagerly.
Interestingly, I believe the concept above is something that artists themselves can resonate. Like Wiji Thukul’s self-reflection here,
“Penyair haruslah berjiwa “bebas dan aktif,” bebas dalam mencari kebenaran dan aktif dalam mempertanyakan kembali kebenaran yang pernah diyakininya. Maka belajar terus menerus adalah mutlak, memperluas wawasan dan cakrawala pemikiran akan sangat menunjang kebebasan jiwanya dalam berkarya. Dan fanatik gaya atau tema bisa dihindarkan sehingga proses kreatif tak terganggu. Belajar tidak harus di bangku kampus atau sekolah tetapi bisa di mana-mana dan kapan saja: di perpustakaan atau membaca gelagat lingkungan atau apa sajalah pokoknya yang bisa mempertajam kepekaan penyair terhadap gerak hidup dirinya dan hidup di luar dirinya juga."
So the next time someone says Rupi Kaur’s whooping poetry book is the most touching piece of art on earth without ever laying eyes on Rumi… Oh dear, let’s just say I have Hume’s approval to legitimately discredit their views now.
Comments
Post a Comment