Today is something different.
In fact, this week has been something different, owing to my unannounced silence. I didn’t announce because I didn’t know about it in advance, but I found it advisable to take a week away for my health. But now I am returned to plague you further, my readers, with arcane pedantry and whimsical digressions about writing and fairy tale.
That brings us back to today, and how it’s different.
In her post on Monday, Jenna asks:
So what are we to do with this concept of Beauty—that strange thing that makes us smile and weep and yearn and laugh and tremble and relax in turn? Beauty, which we cannot objectively quantify, but can recognize with all confidence? Beauty, which I find in Harry Potter, Masha finds in Hemingway, and Mr. Pond finds in grim old fairy tales, though we may occasionally look askance at each others’ choices?
Jenna’s own response is to return to the discussion of art, where and if there is a needful distinction between Art and Entertainment. She suggests the distinction between Art and Entertainment appears to some extent arbitrary and unhelpful. Masha responds by asking for clarification: why does the distinction seem, in fact, unhelpful and arbitrary?
It’s a courteous and thoughtful exchange that includes an invitation for us to come to hers for coffee (next time I’m in that hemisphere, I accept!). And it would be, to some extent, impolite for me to engage with the matter before Jenna’s had a chance to reply.
So let me instead return to her initial question: what are we to do with this concept of Beauty?