22 March, 2007

remodernism (or how my thesis became redundant)

I doubt there is anyone here who hasn't been subjected to my point-of-view regarding Postmodernism, who hasn't heard the rants about Postmodernism in literature and the idea that it is not only pretentious but also based in fundamentally flawed thinking, that making a distinction between modernism and post-modernism is disingenuous and that postmodernist theory itself is little more than empty rhetoric.

The Stuckists agree with me. Okay, they are primarily visual artists and so are applying artistic theory in a different context but what they say about modernism and postmodernism is... hell yes! They say what every romantic literary movement in the history of literature say: art is a spiritual experience, art means something, expresses something, isn't about experimentation for the sake of experimentation. That great art is timeless and universal.

And this, in the end, was the point of my thesis, or at least that such art is in existence. That it's still possible to write an essentially modernist novel today, an idea that disagrees with the popularist view as voiced by Guy Davidson in one of my honours classes (the comment that incited me to roundly tell him off): "But it would be a pastiche and therefore postmodern, wouldn't it?." Okay, technically it doesn't make my thesis redundant (I plead hyperbole) since I was suggesting that such art already existed and was mis-classified (especially dealing with things like magic realism). Not only that but having someone else put forward the idea, in as literary theory rather than critical theory, would have aided me in presenting what I had to say, though may have made it harder for me to be heard.

It comes as a relief though. That the wheel of artistic movements is still turning, that there will be life in art after the slow sinking into the grave that it has been experiencing as a result of postmodern theory. It's a relief to see that romantic theory still has its place. That there are people who think about art as something fine, rather than cheap and guady. That there will be again space for the vitality of art to breathe again, instead of being strangled, not by the things that are commonly viewed as opposing art, but by the very people who attempt to produce it or who make their livelihoods by it, whether by publishing or study. By those who rely on it.

No comments: