rebness

I just caught an excellent programme on the birth of Romanticism and how it affected, and was affected by, changing European society, and it’s only thanks to the squeeing of the David Tennant communities on LJ that I knew it was on. The basics of Romanticism, the documentary argued, were laid down at first by the writings of the French philosopher Diderot. He argued that freedom could not exist, nor progress be made, while Europe centred on a regime controlled by kings who insisted their authority was a divine authority. “Man can never be free until the last priest has been strangled with the entrails of the last king.” The king responded by throwing him in gaol.

The Romantics continued their assault on tradition, finding that the sentiments and wishes for freedom from the old regimes of Europe crystallised by Rousseau and Diderot found their place in a Brave New World. Literally; those Europeans who settled in America seemed to carry with them the hopes of the old world for equality, but the freedom to realise that away from oppressive European society. Their ideas apparently found root, culminating in the Declaration of Independence. This in turn was said to have inspired Blake, the libertarian who uttered, “The King of England, looking Westwards, trembles at the vision… Our Empire is no more.” Romanticism and the sentiments inspired by the perceived freedom of the Americans changed history forever—resentment built up in Europe against the old regimes courtesy of Blake and Diderot, spilling over into bloodshed with the French Revolution. Even the poet Wordsworth, for whom I had a heretofore rational irrational hatred for, got in on the act, travelling to Paris to soak up this Brave New World and falling in love with the city and a peasant woman.

Of course, there’s a different line to take with this—I’ve always taken it that the Romantics eventually tried to turn away from the tumultuous new Europe brought about by the French revolution, and it’s not hard to see how conflicted Wordsworth was when the ideals of this new world resulted in the slaughter of the priests during the Terror, slaughter Diderot had eulogised about but never expected to pass. He fled France for his life, and presumably turned to those bleedin’ daffodils to rid his mind of the sight of the guillotine—but not before giving revolution a human face and turning the bloodshed of the Terror into enduring art, not least by inspiring Coleridge to write the pertinent Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

It was a great programme, handsomely shot and always interesting. David Tennant gave life to Rousseau’s words about the corruption of society on the individual while gazing about the boulevards of Paris; the Statue of Liberty gleamed while Blake’s words were read out and the Berlin wall fell hundreds of years later. It was a visually stunning programme, giving new vigour to the Romantics.

I have but one criticism, and that was the choosing of a man whose delivery was eerily reminiscent of Elmer Fudd. “Thousands of ships had cawwied immigwants to its shaws,” he said with as much gravitas as he could muster, “it was called amewica.” Very off-putting.

Went into Liverpool yesterday to get a couple of things. I ended up (finally) with the first part of Les Miserables, some fresh mint and okra, and beer brewed by some trappist monks in the French Alps, or something.

Chris and I went to see the William Blake exhibition at one of the galleries in Liverpool, because Becky + Blake = OTP. Actually, that's a lie, because Yeats would totally make it a menage a trois.

Anyway, we ended up at the Tate on the docks, and were completely side-tracked. There was an excellent exhibition of Cubist works on. I absolutely love that movement, and though jaffacakequeen and I weren't too impressed with some of Picasso's works at the museum in Barcelona, there were some excellent paintings there. One was a Cubist-style work whereby a woman was reduced to a collage of geometric shapes. It was incredibly eerie.



Now, museums in Britain are, for the main part, free, right? This is a very good thing, but it also means that they're funded by the taxpayer. I am very happy for my money to go towards art rather than war, but dude... there were two pieces of canvas, right? This was a work by an Iranian artist living in London, and she will have received thousands of pounds for her work.

There was a large piece of white canvas, and a large piece of black canvas, adjacent to one another. That was her entire piece. The notice said that it was "an indictement of Western culture and Western materialsim...a scathing look at religious intolerance."

The hell? I'm all for reading between the lines, but it was two pieces of canvas...arrgh. This means that Ikea must be a veritable mecca for religious expression.

I ranted about it to mum today. She said that the idea is probably to laugh at the well-meaning people and their Emperor's New Clothes who would be so decadent as to pay thousands for such a thing.

I have a sneaking feeling that she's right.