The Mote In The Eye Of The Beholder

I am sensible of the arguments which say that taste is not "in the eye of the beholder", but that it can be objectively discerned. Something in my guts instinctively revolts at the thought of putting Britney Spears on a level with Beethoven.

Still, even the ones whom history deems “great” often disagreed amongst themselves, and not only in minor regards. Moreover, it is sometimes the nature of genius to take even the most refined taste by surprise. Andre Gide kicked himself his whole life for having refused the publication of Proust’s “In Search Of Lost Time”, now considered perhaps the most formidable prose work of the 20th Century. Schopenhauer found Hegel’s philosophy morally and aesthetically repugnant. Nietzsche called Plato “boring”. Tolstoy prefered Harriet Beecher-Stowe to William Shakespeare. The list goes on.

Ultimately, isn't this just one of those eternal questions? A mystery which was never meant to be solved -- and which, anyway, has no solution? But, precisely because it is an insolvable paradox, doesn't it provide for endless hours of musing, speculating, and conjecturing upon the most abstract, noble, and abiding elements of our human condition? Excepting only charity and higher love-making, what could be a more fitting occupation for man?

If I had to articulate my present view, I would say only that beauty is, in equal parts, both objective and individually tailored to the eye of the beholder. Beauty is always harmonious, -- but what is harmonious to one is not necessarily harmonious to another. The harmony is not in the piece, but in between the piece and the one who appreciates it. Because these two are in sympathy, there is no discord. To put it somewhat obscurely, If a man is not receptive to your wisdom, it is not wisdom. In any case, it is not wisdom intended for him. Not yet, anyway.

We may imagine that our conception of beauty is more enlightened than another’s, but there is, so far as I know, no purely objective way of determining the truth of this. Every man’s concept of beauty is his own — and even that may be in flux. It is not altogether curious that we each, secretly or openly, believe ourselves to be in possession of an impecable sense of taste. Though we may discern a million flaws in the tastes of others, we are, each and every one of us, blind to the flaws in our own discernment -- otherwise, they would not be "the flaws in our own discernment".