21 minute read
ARTS AND HUMANITIES
Berry Summer Thesis Institute
Musical Expression and Symbolic Forms
Jacob D. Biesecker-Mast1,2,3
University of Dayton
300 College Park, Dayton, OH 45469
1. Department of Philosophy
2. Department of Music
3. Berry Summer Thesis Institute
4. University Honors Program
Thesis Mentor: Neil Florek, M.A.
Department of Philosophy
Abstract:
Frequently the idea of expression comes up when people talk about music’s value in human culture. However, expression is often ill-defined and can be found to be used many ways. Some argue that music is expressive of the creator’s emotions, something like an unrestrained outpouring of emotions as musical form. Some argue that music instead expresses the creator’s knowledge about emotions, rather than the emotions themselves. Others argue music is not expressive at all, but instead is beautiful by virtue of its well-formed nature. This particular perspective, musical formalism, often looks at what is called “absolute music”, or music without any other kind of media like lyrics, and argues that the form of the music, with all its interesting play between various melodies, counter melodies, and chord structure, is that which gives it value rather than any kind of expressive capabilities. Susanne Langer is a scholar who has written much on the philosophy of art and makes compelling arguments for the expressive nature of art, and thus departs from formalism distinctly. Many of her theories treat art as a sort of language that expresses through meaningmaking symbols. This summer I am doing preliminary work, using many of Langer’s theories as a base, on investigating this question: based on the particular syntactic and semantic structure of music, as distinct from other methods of constructing and communicating meaning, what kinds of meaning is music ideal for expressing? In order to answer this question, I am reading various texts by philosophers of music including Susanne Langer, but also Nelson Goodman and Peter Kivy. While Susanne Langer presents a quite relevant and useful broad theory, which argues music allows the expression of the emotional inner-life of human beings, to answer the question, there seem to be some weaknesses in her framework that might be remedied through the introduction of ideas from these other authors. For example, Langer postulates that symbols in music, as distinct from discursive language, do not necessarily refer to an object to make meaning, but instead present concepts as they are through constructing analogous logical relationships. This argument is difficult to make sense of as it would seem that even in this sense, the symbol is referring to the concept in question. If the symbol does not refer to an object, then the symbol is all that is needed to comprehend the concept. If this is the case then how are the symbol and concept distinct? In this case, Goodman offers up the concept of exemplification, in which the symbol exemplifies the concept in question, in addition to presenting it. Ultimately, I hope to argue that the value of music lies, at least in great part, in its capability to not only express the emotional inner-life of human beings, but also that in this act of expression, it does important work conceptualizing and constructing understanding about the world we live in and our experience of that world.
In her book, Philosophy in a New Key, Susanne Langer makes the case that music plays an integral role in shaping one’s understanding of the world. This is because, for Langer, musical works are not simply beautiful creations that may bring pleasure to the subject, but are symbolic forms that are vital to the process of conceptualization. Essentially, she argues music helps individuals to create concepts that help them understand the world in particular ways. One of Langer’s main points is that music is what she calls a presentational form, or a form that simply presents concepts to the subject. However, there may be some weaknesses in this argument, including her vague explanation on both the limits of discursive form and the advantages of presentational form. In light of these weaknesses, Nelson Goodman’s concept of exemplification might aid Langer’s theory by postulating a different approach to symbolism in the process of conceptualization.
One key distinction Langer makes is between signs and symbols. Langer argues that signs refer to something about the presence of an object, usually with regards to an action that should be taken in response. A good example of this is a train signal one might find at the intersection between a road and a railway. A train signal is useful because it refers to the eminent presence of an object: the train. Because of this, the signal provides useful information to the subject that can then be used to inform subsequent decisions, such as stopping before the crossing. A symbol, on the other hand, refers to a concept about the object, not just the object’s presence. Essentially, words are representative of the general concept, but can also be used to refer to the specific object as well. One very common example of this is words. The word “train” does not always inform the subject about the presence of a train. Seeing the word “train” on this page should not cause the reader to look around their reading area for a train. Instead, this word references one’s concept of trains: where they are usually found, what they do, how they function, and any number of other related ideas to the object. As Langer explains: “Most of our words are not signs in the sense of signals. They are used to talk about things, not to direct our eyes and ears and noses toward them… they take the place of things that we have perceived in the past, or even things that we can merely imagine…” (Langer 31). It is not that signals are not important, it is just that they serve a different purpose.
At this point, Langer also makes a clear distinction between connotation and denotation for symbols. This is because saying that symbols refer to a concept and a sign to an object is not a complete picture. First of all, it is important to understand that, according to Langer, signs do not just refer to objects, but specifically something about the presence of them. Even a sign pointing to something is referring to the presence of that object. Again, a symbol directly refers to a concept, but this concept also refers to many objects, the most important one being that which the concept is about. Thus, a symbol can refer to an object through the concept. This is where the terms connotation and denotation come in; Langer explains: “Denotation is, then, the complex relationship which a name has to an object which bears it… The connotation of a word is the conception it conveys” (Langer 64). The relationship between a symbol and a concept Langer calls connotation, while the relationship between a symbol and the object through the concept is called denotation.
This connection between symbolism and conceptualization is an important one for Langer’s argument. If music is symbolic, then it means that music must relate to the subject’s conceptualization of the world. However, Langer does not stop there. So far, all that has been shown is that symbols refer to concepts, not that concepts actually shape the conceptualization process beyond the simple act of dividing up the world, that this is a bag and not a tree for example. For Langer, these symbols actually have some essential quality that necessarily relates them to their concept. Langer argues that symbols and concepts are related by sharing logically analogous forms (Langer 82). In other words, symbols refer to specific concepts because the two both possess some congruent logical form that is important. Take for example the pairing of a mercator projection and the earth itself. While these items are very different, most would easily make the connection between the two. Even though the earth is made of stone, metal, water and organic matter while the map might be paper or even digital; even though the map is flat while the earth is a sphere; even though the earth is thousands of miles in diameter while a map might only be several inches; one still makes the connection that the map symbolizes the earth. Langer would argue that this is because the map and one’s concept of the earth share the logical relationships present in the geographic arrangement of features like continents, countries, oceans, and many other features depending on the specific map. That Europe is north of Africa and the two poles are opposite each other is preserved, and makes the map a useful symbol. To use the specific terms, the map connotes the various geographical concepts, and it denotes the earth itself. The idea that symbols are linked to their concepts and objects via logically analogous form is integral to Langer’s argument. www.abbapublishing.com
This step is important because it entails that the structure of the symbols themselves is important in the process of conceptualization. Not only is the act of using symbols important for shaping the way one conceptualizes the world, but the nuances of the symbols themselves affect the structures of the concepts. Langer argues there are two main categories of symbols. The first category is discursive symbols, or symbols that lend themselves to discourse. The most prominent example is language. Language consists of sentences that are made up of words, and can be combined in various ways. Some of the key characteristics of discursive form are that sentences are structured linearly and thus must be read one piece at a time, and that connotations in discursive form are general- they refer to concept that often includes many ideas (Langer 97). Additionally, discursive form relies on common understandings of syntax and word-meanings for individuals to be able to derive connotations and denotations from discourse. Often discursive form is taken for granted and some might argue that in order for something to be thinkable and therefore cognitive, it must be able to be articulated in discursive form. However, Langer argues there is another category of symbols that she calls presentational form. Presentational symbols simply present the concept for the subject’s observation and thought, rather than encoding it in words or sentences: “the meanings of all other symbolic elements that compose a larger, articulate symbol are understood only through the meaning of the whole, through their relations within the tonal structure” (Langer 97). Presentational symbols include paintings, dance, music, and other kinds of art forms. Some key aspects of presentational forms is that they do not necessarily require common understandings of various elements, such as words, as the logical relationships are simply presented for observation. Langer argues that presentational forms offer the ability to articulate ideas that cannot be articulated in discursive form due to its limitations, and thus this a key purpose of music.
One key area that discursive form does not articulate well but is articulated well by presentational form is what Langer calls the “inner life”. For Langer, the inner life is perhaps what some would call the emotional life of human beings, even though that does not quite adequately explain it (Langer 98). It is the felt experience of a situation and the very human ways that one might respond to or understand said situation other than explicit reasoning. Take for example the experience of standing before the Trevi fountain in Rome. Discursive form is very helpful for articulating things like the number of people there, the color of the sky, the height of the water, the time of day, or the temperature of the water. Discursive form can help to make a list of all the various objects present and the ways they are related. However, Langer would argue there is a felt experience of being there as a human being with respect to all these objects that cannot be articulated with discursive form. The way the wind feels in one’s hair, the tiny droplets of water from the fountain’s explosion that collide with one’s skin and cool it down from the warm rays of the sun, or that feeling of being around so many other people who are all there to see the same amazing object are just a few examples of things that cannot be well articulated in discursive form, even though it has been attempted here.
While Langer’s theories may be compelling, there is at least one possible issue. Langer clearly states that presentational forms do not refer to an object or even a concept. Langer instead argues these forms “present” logical relationships for the subject’s conception. But it seems contradictory to claim a symbol does not refer to any object. Nelson Goodman offers a different theory of the relationship between symbol, concept, and object. Goodman postulates the concept of exemplification, in which a symbol represents an object by both possessing and referring to either labels or properties present in the represented object (Goodman 53). The example Goodman uses in Languages of Art is that of a sample of cloth and the whole piece. The sample of cloth symbolizes the larger piece by both possessing the redness, the softness, and the thickness of the larger piece, and also by referring to those qualities (Goodman 53-54). It is important that both possession and reference is present for symbolism to be happening as an identical whole piece of cloth does not symbolize the original whole piece as it is not referring to those properties even though it does possess them. This theory of exemplification bridges the gaps between presentational symbol, concept, and object without introducing any logical inconsistencies. In this way Goodman presents a clearer picture of these relationships, that may allow one to preserve Langer’s other important insights like logical analogy, the roles of connotation and denotation, and the inner life.
Acknowledgements
First, I would like to acknowledge the Berry Family and Honors Program, without which the Berry Summer Thesis Institute could not exist, and thus I could not have had this wonderful opportunity to work on this project. I would also like to acknowledge my fantastic mentor, Neil Florek, for all his work this summer to help me complete this project and push me to do the best work I could. Finally, I would like to acknowledge my fellow Berry Summer Thesis Institute scholars: Phillip Cicero, Jules Carr-Chellman, Daniel Vencel, Caitlin Spicer, Lizzy Herr, Tierra Freeman, Jeanne Serring, Jaylee Sowders, and Claire VanMeter. They made this summer such a joy and I am no doubt a better person because of them.
Bibliography
Goodman, Nelson. Languages of Art. Hackett Publishing Company Inc., 1976. Langer, Susanne. Philosophy in a New Key. Harvard University Press, 1957.
Lovecraft, the Uncanny, and the Sublime: A Psychoanalytic Critique of H.P. Lovecraft's Fiction
Jules Carr-Chellman1,2,3,4
University of Dayton
300 College Park, Dayton, OH 45469
1.Department of Philosophy
2.Department of English
3.Berry Summer Thesis Institute
4. University Honors Program
Thesis Mentor: Andrew Slade,
Department of English
Ph.D.
The ideas of the uncanny and the sublime are part of a philosophical tradition that lies at the intersection of psychoanalysis and the critical analysis of art and literature. Psychoanalysis, in a clinical context, works to understand crucial processes that compose the human being while also working to address problems that arise out of those processes. Psychoanalysis, at its core, seeks to answer the crucial questions facing the human condition from a human perspective and to help people live better lives because of it.
Psychoanalysis is also a way to understand the mediums through which we express our feelings, our opinions, and our ideas about who we are in art and literature. Art and literature are the medium for the interarticulation of our individual human experiences. Frida Kahlo, a Mexican painter, once said, “I paint flowers so that they will not die.” This quote summarizes how art is a means by which humans seek to try and fully articulate their ideas about themselves and other people, thereby bringing their perspective closer to being a part of shared human understanding. The field of psychoanalysis is important because of its crucial mission to think about what it is to be human, as it also serves as an essential critical lens through which to understand the expression of the human mind in art and literature. Psychoanalysis as critical theory will yield valuable insights into what it means to be a human being and how humans respond to the social, historical, and cultural problems that face us and our world.
The text that I will examine today was written by H.P. Lovecraft, an American author who, during the late 19th and early 20th century, published horror science-fiction titles such as The Call of Cthulhu (1928), At the Mountains of Madness (1931), and The Shadow Out of Time (1936). Lovecraft’s stories were virtually ignored by the general public until later authors of scholarship began paying attention to his work in the late 1970s, and ever since, scholars have mostly labeled Lovecraftian fiction as simply ‘grotesque’ or ‘weird.’ 1 There is more depth, however, to Lovecraft’s fiction than can be captured by these terms alone and also more complications. While I will not address these in this paper, my larger thesis project will include a section addressing Lovecraft’s racist and xenophobic tendencies. Thus, the aim of this project is to find the deeper meanings in Lovecraft’s texts’ by using a psychoanalytic lens. First, I will explain the Freudian concept of the uncanny, secondly, I will briefly articulate a Burkean understanding of the sublime, and finally, I will make the argument that Lovecraft’s fiction is rooted in elements of the uncanny and the sublime.
The uncanny is colloquially understood as something weird or bizarre that evokes a feeling of disease. A psychoanalytic conception of the uncanny is more than a surface level description of feeling, it emphasizes internal unconscious processes that are fundamental for human beings to exist. Freud says that it might be uncanny to repeatedly observe a number several times in different places throughout the day, or to meet someone that looks almost identical to ones’ spouse.
More than just uncomfortable, according to Sigmund Freud, the feeling of the uncanny occurs when something that is meant to be buried in the unconscious mind comes to light.2 To further understand the Freudian conception of the uncanny, I will consider the first part of his essay where he etymologically dissects the Germanic roots of the word uncanny.
Freud begins his essay on the uncanny by etymologically examining the two German words Heimlich and unheimlich Heimlich can be translated in English to mean ‘homeliness,’ and unheimlich is understood to mean ‘unhomely.’ To be in one’s home is to be in a private space that is sheltered from the outside world. Thus, the German language secondarily defines the word homely to refer to that which is hidden, and unhomely to define something that has been unconcealed. In this investigation of German etymology, Freud observes a border between the meanings of homeliness and unhomeliness. This border is the place where the uncanny resides. The uncanny can be understood as a feeling that occurs when something familiar, that should be hidden, is revealed. Through a psychoanalytic lens, the things that are meant to be hidden are repressed experiences, ideas, or memories – these things are meant to be quite literally hidden from conscious experience. Freud’s argument, in The Uncanny, is that the reemergence of repressed ideas causes a feeling of uncanniness.
In the second chapter of Freud’s essay on the uncanny, he has several ideas about the experiences that he considers to be uncanny. Freud suggests that the uncanny can be prompted by a number of different things, like witnessing a person having a seizure, or the “repetition of the same thing,” such as numbers observed in a given day, or the “doppelganger,” which could occur in the form of seeing a person that looks identical to one's own acquaintance or themselves.3 As Freud will illustrate, the feeling of uncanniness comes from the partial excavation of ideas, feelings, and memories that have been repressed into the unconscious. The clearest example of the uncanny mentioned by Freud, I think, occurs when a human has a seizure because it physically reveals the electrical anatomical processes that lie behind the animated, nonmechanical essence of human behavior. Understanding a human being as nothing more than a robot is not a thought pattern that is sustainable, so the mind represses the idea or memory out of conscious thought where it will still exist but lay mostly dormant until we observe things that bring that repressed idea to light – then we feel uncanny.
One of Freud’s most provocative and famous ideas was his conception of the human psyche akin to that of a Roman city. Freud explains that the buildings and infrastructure of European cities can undergo destruction, war, and natural disaster, yet they are always rebuilt in a different way on top of the previous foundation.4 If one is walking around Europe, it is easily examined that most buildings, in some way or another, retain elements of a previous form of the building, but at a deeper and more hidden level. This is how Freud asks the reader to understand the human psyche in Civilization and its Discontents. While thinking about the uncanny, it is important to remember that no psychological change or development is ever lost in the human psyche; instead, the mind retains its current form and all previous forms.
Freud conducts an analysis of The Sandman by E.T.A Hoffman to demonstrate how a fictional narrative incites a feeling of uncanniness. Freud argues that the source of uncanniness in the story comes from the sandman himself, whose mythological task is to tear out the eyes of children.5 Through a psychoanalytic lens, the loss of one's eyes comes from a fear of castration, which is observable in The Sandman when Coppelius, the evil doppelganger of Nathaniel’s father, attempts
2Freud, Sigmund, The Uncanny. (New York: Penguin Books, 2003), 124.
3Freud, Sigmund, The Uncanny. (New York: Penguin Books, 2003), 142 to burn Nathaniel’s eyes with a chemical solution and then interferes with all of his love relationships. Freud’s central thesis is that the uncanny is a feeling that comes from repressed psychological material. My central argument in this paper, however, is that the feeling of uncanniness as theorized by Freud is more than an uncomfortable or bizarre experience, but instead, that the uncanny is rooted in more substantial feelings of terror. Take, for example, Freud’s analysis of the uncanny in The Sandman – it is not simply bizarre or strange to fear being castrated by having one's eyes gouged out, it is horrifying. Thus, a conception of the uncanny as simply strange is to misrepresent a feeling that is rooted in terror.
4Freud, Sigmund, Civilization and Its Discontents, (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2022),7.
5Freud, Sigmund, The Uncanny. (New York: Penguin Books, 2003), 136.
H.P. Lovecraft is skilled at creating a sense of the uncanny, and a prime example of this uncanniness occurs in his short tale “The Outsider.” The story is narrated by a mysterious being who, for as long as they can remember, has lived entirely alone in an inescapable dark castle surrounded by an endless expanse of trees. Eventually, the being feels impelled to escape his prison-like home and scales the ruins of the castle’s staircase, only to reach the top and discover that he has breached the surface of a new world “decked and diversified by marble slabs and columns, overshadowed by an ancient stone church…”6 Longing for human contact, the being scouts out a different castle filled with “an oddly dressed company, making merry, and speaking brightly to one another.”7 As soon as the being enters the castle, there “descended upon the whole company a sudden and unheralded fear of hideous intensity.”8 The being carefully searches for the presence that caused the terror, and upon finding it, reaches out to touch the creature’s paw only to feel “a cold and unyielding surface of polished glass” -- a mirror.9
This brief story constructs an environment through the perspective of the character, which gives the reader a way of understanding the character’s experiences as real within the narrative. The readers’ understanding that the beings’ experience is real becomes ambiguous when the being reaches out toward the monster and realizes that it is, in fact, a reflection of itself. This fits in with the characteristically uncanny feeling that arises “when the boundary between fantasy and reality is blurred.”10 The final moment in the story when the being encounters the monster as himself is an uncanny moment, specifically in the form of what Freud would call a “double” or a “doppelganger.” The uncanny, as we will recall, is “what one calls everything that was meant to remain secret and hidden and has come into the open.”11 For example, in Lovecraft’s short story “The Outsider,” the being in the tower recounts a memory of his first conception of the human form – he describes it as “something that looked mockingly like myself, yet distorted.”12 This is the moment when the being first conceived of someone other than himself – this distorted recollection of the initial encounter with the human form as resembling itself indicates the gradual repression of a narcissism that occurred early on in its life. The central idea here is that the being in Lovecraft’s “The Outsider” is recognizing a frightening distorted version of himself in other objects. This ultimately results in the degradation of the beings’ own self-image, which creates a terrifying sense of the uncanny.
So, we have evidence of a repressed idea in this story. Freud’s argument is that the uncanny experience of the “doppelganger,” or double, occurs when one observes, in adulthood, someone or something else that looks remarkably similar to oneself in reality.13 And this is exactly what
6Lovecraft, Howard P., “The Outsider,” (New York: Library of America, 2005), 11
7Lovecraft, Howard P., “The Outsider,” (New York: Library of America, 2005), 12
8Ibid
9Lovecraft, Howard P., “The Outsider,” (New York: Library of America, 2005), 14.
10Freud, Sigmund, The Uncanny, (New York: Penguin Books, 2003),150 happens at the end of the story when the being reaches toward the monster only to discover that his hands are touching a mirror, a reflection of himself, a doppelganger. The most significant portion of the story’s plot, when the creature touches the mirror, is tied to subtle details throughout the story in order to articulate an uncanny encounter with repressed infantile narcissism. The Outsider, therefore, is a weird story, it's a grotesque story, and it is, from beginning to end, a tale of an encounter with a feeling of the uncanny.
11Freud, Sigmund, The Uncanny, (New York: Penguin Books, 2003), 132.
12Lovecraft, Howard P., “The Outsider,” (New York: Library of America, 2005), 8.
13Freud, Sigmund, The Uncanny, (New York: Penguin Books, 2003), 141.
The goal of using psychoanalysis as a form of critical theory is to analyze pieces of art or literature to detect less obvious meanings or truths that might be ciphered within a narrative. This is done by thinking through the lens of the human psyche. The work of H.P. Lovecraft, and of any artist, is a part of cultural discourse; Lovecraft externalizes his interior life in his fiction. The uncanny is a deeply interior idea. Yet, there is a reason that it happens, and this reason, from the perspective of the psyche, is self-preservation and the uncanny is a feeling that occurs when that which is repressed returns.
Since we have understood uncanniness to be an interior affect, where do we see it externalized? The uncanny cannot be seen– it is felt, but what can be seen is the sublime. The sublime, as it is understood by Edmund Burke, is everything that elicits terror.14 Yet, the sublime is also a “form of self-preservation,” as Burke says, because the feeling of terror caused by something experienced outside of the body triggers a visceral response in the mind that works to preserve the self from death.15 In contrast to the uncanny, the sublime occurs because of an encounter with something exterior to the mind, while the uncanny is an internal mechanism within the psyche. Both concepts, however, seek to preserve the self. So, the uncanny is an internal designation for feelings associated with particular repressed images, and the sublime is a feeling often externalized in images of magnitude and power.
The being in The Outsider, for example, is never developed by Lovecraft. The reader does not know its species, its gender, its age, or what it looks like – all that is concrete is the fact that it exists. This is how the uncanny works in the human psyche – the mind is familiar with the existence of this repressed idea, but unfamiliar with the specifics of its form. At the end of the story, when the creature realizes that the monster is himself, he explains it like so:
“...in that same second there crashed upon my mind a single and fleeting avalanche of soul- annihilating memory. I knew in that second all that had been; I remembered beyond the frightful castle and the trees, and recognized the altered edifice in which I now stood; I recognized, most terrible of all, the unholy abomination of that which stood leering before me as I withdrew my sullied fingers from its own.”16
This is the moment in the narrative when the creature moves from being an internal uncanny idea, to being a full-blown externalized object capable of inciting sublime terror. The creature, through a psychoanalytical lens, could be understood as this completely unknown, yet familiar repressed idea that, when revealed or externalized, triggers a feeling of terror.
14Burke, Edmund, A Philosophical Inquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990), 36.
15Burke, Edmund, A Philosophical Inquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990), 79.
16Lovecraft, Howard P., “The Outsider,” (New York: Library of America, 2005), 13.
Earlier it was stated that The Outsider is a tale of an encounter with the feeling of the uncanny, and now, I have demonstrated that when this internal uncanny feeling becomes externalized, it incites a feeling of terror that constitutes an encounter with the sublime. The language commonly used to talk about this story, and most Lovecraftian fiction, are words associated with low culture, words like weird, grotesque, bizarre, or frightening. What I have shown today is that powerful emotion does not have to be positive, or high – quite the opposite – powerful and important emotions that fuel human self-preservation are oftentimes buried and terrifying. H.P Lovecraft wrote a body of fiction that contains feelings and ideas buried in unseen parts of the world that often make people uncomfortable, however, his misunderstood works still serve as a cultural container of human expression that ultimately define how we understand and preserve ourselves as people.
Bibliography
Burke, Edmund, A Philosophical Inquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990).
Freud, Sigmund, Civilization and Its Discontents, (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2022).
Freud, Sigmund, The Uncanny. (New York: Penguin Books, 2003). Harman, Graham, Weird Realism: Lovecraft and Philosophy, (Winchester, UK: Zero Books, 2012.
Lovecraft, Howard P., “The Outsider,” (New York: Library of America, 2005).