The Kelvingrove Review

Issue 7

The Beautiful, the Sublime, and the

Grotesque: The Subjective Turn in
Aesthetics from the Enlightenment to the
Present
Edited by Michael J. Matthis
Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2010
(ISBN: 978-1-4438-1963-3). 148pp.
Janet Chen (University of Glasgow)

Arguably the most famous and iconic image from Francisco Goyas
print series, Los Caprichos, The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters
(1797-99) sets the perfect tone for this series of essays edited by
Michael J. Matthis, Associate Professor of Philosophy at Lamar
University in Beaumont, Texas. The title and cover image are both
deceiving, however, because the subjects of the sublime and the
grotesque are not discussed or held with equal weight as discussion of
the beautiful. Also, Goya does not appear elsewhere in the book
despite being a prime candidate for such a topic. The essays focus
more on the changing views of what is beautiful while the sublime
and the grotesque appear as more of an afterthought. This may be
because this compilation consists of papers presented at various
conferences throughout the past few years and were not expressly
written for the purposes of this collection. Despite this, Matthis
presents a series of thought-provoking essays that are divided into
four sections that loosely follow a chronological timeline.
Section I, entitled Empiricism and the Problem of Aesthetic
Judgment,

presents

the

different methods by which important

figures, such as Johann Winkelmann and David Hume, have

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examined and judged aesthetic beauty. Both James Mock and

Kenneth Buckman argue that Winkelmann and Hume tackle the
delicate task of balancing between objectivity and subjectivity in
their assessments. Mock explains that Winkelmann does this by
emphasising historicism in art as well as recognising the importance
of the contemplation of beauty with objective purity. Buckman
asserts that Hume furthers this connection and also explores the
theme of modernism and postmodernism. He also compares Humes
arguments with the contemporary aesthetic thinker, Guy Sircello.
Section II focuses exclusively on the relationship between
Immanuel Kant and the beautiful. Here, the various authors explore
the ways in which Kant revolutionised how beauty is evaluated and
especially emphasise the introduction of disinterestedness. More
importantly, they also stress how Kant differs from Hume because he
does not seek a pleasure-causing quality in regards to beautiful
objects. However, Kevin Dodson and the previously mentioned
Buckman and Matthis are most concerned with the repercussions of
Kants theories and concentrate less on any positive consequences.
Buckmans essay in Section II focuses entirely on whether or not
Kants removal of any type of intuitive power from thought or
reason completely eviscerates the beautiful. It is interesting that the
authors chose to focus so predominantly on the field of philosophy
because this topic is much more broad-reaching and has the potential
to become more interdisciplinary. The inclusion of fields such as art
history, literature, or history would have presented a more solid and
complex foundation for their hypotheses.
The essays in Section III analyse the questions revolving
around issues of morality and aesthetics, from Kant to the present.
Here, the authors move beyond the traditional field of philosophy.
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In his essay, Matthis enters into the discussion of Kant and ethics in
respect to moral law and the elimination of authority. Michael
Patton and E.M. Dadlez reflect upon the aesthetic grotesqueness
involved in listening to blues music a genre that is essentially about
human suffering and emotional pain. Lastly, in a secondary
contribution to the section written by Dadlez alone, he pursues the
question of aesthetic morality in museum displays. These three essays
present a much more fruitful and engaging view on the philosophical
discussion. By transcending the bounds of the typical analysis of a
certain philosophers beliefs and thoughts, the themes presented in
each essay are much more accessible, and therefore resonate deeper,
because of the connection to more concrete and tangible examples
from everyday life.
This interdisciplinary aspect is also found in Section IV with
Matthiss own essay on Poe, Socrates, and Zombieism: The Art of
Dying in the Land of the Undead. Matthis provides a broader scope
by referencing literature and popular culture as well as philosophy.
My main concern with his essay, however, is the distinct lack of art
historical perspective in his arguments, especially when he so readily
uses an iconic image by Redon to accompany the essay, the only
image in the entire book with the exception of the cover. A
discussion of this particular work by Redon would be extremely
pertinent to his topic as the image itself is a bizarre and twisted
combination of the human flesh and the scientific. Its inclusion seems
out of place and distracting. In addition, Matthis never quite explains
why he chooses to use certain examples in his connection to
Zombieism above others. For example, his reference to Sylvia Plath
seems to be thrown in almost haphazardly and would have provided
a strong comparison to the works of Poe and Socrates that he uses
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for his arguments had he expounded on it but Plath disappears almost

as instantaneously as she appeared.
Regardless, Matthis still presents an incredibly fascinating topic
and choice of focus. He argues that a person leading a normal
existence is much like a zombie in that they walk and move about
but only in a world of abstractions and shadows, never truly existing,
living, or breathing at all. In addition, we are oblivious to this fact,
much like how zombies are unaware of their undead state, and are
yet, bound to that empty life (or unlife). Matthis then introduces the
character of the artist and suggests that they are bothered, and in fact
horrified by it, and cannot accept this life led by the ordinary citizen.
What is contradictory and confusing about his argument,
however, is the status and degree of separation of the artist in relation
to the ordinary citizen. Was the artist born into this life in a state of
clarity and lucidity completely aware that he is different and
distinct from the mass of mindless zombies? Or did he escape from it
and was, in fact, an ordinary citizen himself until breaking away?
Both questions lead me to the argument that the artist, therefore,
suffers more than the ordinary citizen. At least, the ordinary citizen
will never know their plight because of the state of emptiness that
their life remains in. To become aware, however, and to know that
there is nothing that can be done to fix it that is the ultimate
torture. Matthis hints at this when he mentions Poes awakened
zombies that are horrified by their blindness as well. He sees Poes
stories as eulogy to the art of dying because the act of death is
bittersweet and a paradox. Matthis presents death as a way to
remember what we have eternally forgotten, and it is then less of an
end and more of a beginning.

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Overall, this collection of essays provided a thought-provoking

read. The target audience for this publication is rather narrow,
however, because of the lack of interdisciplinary relativity. Those
who study philosophy, especially the theories of Kant or Hume,
would find this incredibly useful especially because many of the
essays take a fresh look at their ideas and compare them to the works
of contemporary thinkers such as Guy Sircello.
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