I am having a hard time unclutching this book from my heart. The perspective of the author has completely illuminated my relationship with beauty as well as allowed me to view history through a different and fascinating lens. Just when I think I’m beginning to understand things, I am shown a new universe of unexplored terrain. It is exciting when that terrain resides within one’s own nature. I think I will be less apologetic about my “over-reactions” to magnificence.
The book is certainly relevant not just to beauty and art lovers but expresses a concern about the ever-widening gap between reason and that which transcends. Really, it is what is transcending that truly tempers and balances reason. Without transcendence we are doomed to a life that is deaf to beauty. In attaching too much importance on relevance, usefulness, and progress we have really only managed to excise wonder from our existence and place it in the category of “complete waste of time.” It is the very picture of humanity without a soul. I am, for the first time, very glad I was born with a bit of irrelevant and useless talent. I suppose if I wasn't so spectacularly useless at being interested or good at anything our culture deems useful, I have unwittingly ensured I would ultimately be seduced by beauty.
Lane does more than offer a critique of modern culture, he strolls through various centuries and cultures offering a soulful analysis of the products of both sensual and ideal relationships with beauty. The reader will drop randomly into India, Japan, China, and Medieval Europe at different times to analyze some of the greatest treasures produced by both God and man.
Two of the most interesting ideas he writes about:
It cannot be denied that the analytical procedures of Western thought…brought astonishing gains for consciousness…but as valued as it undoubtedly is, rationality also carries its own hidden limitations and its usage can become repressive and distorted over time. Many now living largely through the intellect have become emotionally dependent on a diet of raw eroticism and excessive violence. The cult of the ironic, distanced observer, aware of his awareness, is no replacement for the unanaesthetized heart which characterized the earlier centuries. Without soul there can be no relationship; without relationship there can be no soul.
…Consumerist culture has given generously with one hand…with the other it has taken an incalculable amount. It has made us restless; has encouraged haste, ambition, stress and greed; it has promoted dissatisfaction with what exists and a desire for more-more money in particular. However many appliances and gadgets with which we fill our homes, there is always a higher level of dissatisfaction. The feelings of timelessness and peaceful acceptance that our forebears took for granted have been undermined by a culture obsessed by hedonism, consumption and the acquisition of wealth.