Skip to content →

Tag: TLS

The Work Of The Mind

In this first lesson Valéry announces with all the solemnity of a shibboleth a dictum he had coined years before in the Cahiers, “L’œuvre de l’esprit n’existe qu’en acte” (the work of the mind exists only as act), by which he means two things. There is the obvious first meaning: a piece of music exists only when performed, a choreography when danced; a painting needs to be looked at, a poem to be read or read aloud.

But for Valéry it also means that the centre of interest is always situated some way upstream of the poem, the painting or the score, in the transformation and response, triggered by an initial stimulus, in the body of the artist himself. The stimulus may be a contrast of two colours, a disposition of planes in a landscape or a repeated sound, all of which excite a response in the creative mind. Insisting on the idea that an organism seeks a return to equilibrium after receiving a stimulus, Valéry often describes this process in the mind (the “act” described above) as an imbalance to be corrected, a symmetry to be restored or a dissonance to be resolved. For the artist the work of art can be the means by which a return to equilibrium is brought about.

Valéry attempts to give an ordered “map” of what he called the “implexe”, essentially a physiological reflex translated onto the conceptual and image-making plane of the mind. His ambition is to produce an esthétique généralisée, just as Einstein, whom he knew and admired, had produced a theory of general relativity.

Stephen Romer, TLS

Comments closed

Planetary Pynchon

Single author studies come in two flavours: the kind that point out the writer’s neglect in their time and the kind that argue prescience of our own. Tore Rye Andersen’s Planetary Pynchon is a well-researched example of the latter. Using theories of “world literature” and the value of books for understanding the Anthropocene, Andersen gives Pynchon his 2023 makeover.

A funny, postmodern satirist of 1960s American counterculture (and an influence on everyone from Soft Machine to the Coen brothers), Pynchon appears here in the guise of geopolitical commentator. Behind the metafictional games, behind the famous ironic style, lies a “leading novelist of globalization”.

Andersen’s premiss is that a “world-historical” scheme emerges on reading three of Pynchon’s novels side by side: Gravity’s Rainbow (1973), Mason & Dixon (1997) and Against the Day (2006). In these “sprawling, complex global novels”, home to “a thousand characters” ranging across three centuries of western history, Andersen finds “one coherent story about how European technological modernity has since the Enlightenment spread its web across the world”. Carefully, inventively, he joins the dots between the fun Pynchon has had with the eighteenth-century American frontier, world events between the fin de siècle and the Great War, and the Nazi design of the first long-range guided missile.

Pointing out that this “global trilogy” spans exactly the timeframe of the Anthropocene (the geological phase in which the human impact on the environment has become irreversible), he reads Pynchon’s caricatures of colonial and capitalist hubris as before-their-time comments on ecological suicide.

Guy Stevenson,TLS

One Comment