cannot represent any conceptual things,
but are merely objects to our senses,
"things" in the world of things. This
is the argument for their immunity
from being engaged. But Sartre admits
that sounds, etc., carry a
small
degree
of signification. What are the limits?
Where does negligible meaning stop,
and real begin? I s not rather the use
to which potentially significant ma–
terials are directed that which trans–
forms them into signifying entities? It
seems to me precisely that utilization
of raw elements like sounds or words
to form meaningful structures is the
artist's activity.
For Sartre's description a new hu–
man psychology must be inferred. This
in itself is not damning, but the form
it must take does rather frighten one.
We must suppose that each material
difference among the arts possesses a
corresponding human, nonconceptual
faculty geared only to the reception
and "understanding" (if we may tem–
porarily call it that) of works exe–
cuted in that particular medium. Thus,
sculpture and its appeal would have
a separate faculty than either painting
or photography, and so on, perhaps
all the way to a distinction between
the water-color sense-faculty of the
brain (or soul) and the oil or the
tempera. But, less playfully, in the case
of poetry we should have to suppose
a process, mental or otherwise, for the
absorption of
words
which is distinct
from that process by which we absorb
words as
symbols."
I can think only of
the, old punishment of
eating
them....
Only harm can come from with–
drawing poetry out of the reach of ra–
tional discourse. Musicians, or rather,
music lovers have almost destroyed the
possibility of anyone writing well about
music in the excess of their esoteric
attitude. The same should not
be
the
fate of poetry. It is always necessary,
when faced with an artistic achieve–
ment, to characterize it. Never com–
pletely, of course, for that is where the
393
distinctness of medium comes in, but
to some extent. And it cannot be de–
nied that successful critics have always
done exactly that, a particularly dis–
tinguished tradition of criticism belong–
ing, in fact, to Sartre's own country.
It is hard to accept his vituperation
against critics in the light of this, but
the article contains much in the way
of specific reference which is no doubt
lost to an American reader. . . .
Eugene Thau
New York City
THE VICTIM
by
SAUL BELLOW
is our book for MARCH–
another good reason
why you,
a
PR
reader,
ought
to join
PROGRESSIVE
BOOK CLUB'
some further reasons:
choice of a selection
FREE
-book "dividends" - the
low cost of books to mem–
bers-
$2.00
(postpaid)
lllllltlllllttllllltlllllllltllllllllllllltllllllllllllllllltll .
progressive book club
567 - 3rd avenue
new york
16,
n.
y.
Enroll m6 as a member. Send me
THE VICTIM and the list /rom which
I may chooJI
my
fre6 selection. I en–
clos6
$2.
I agree to accept
4
selections,
after which I may cancel membership
at anytime.
Name ..................................................
Address
pr
3
