You Can Make Me Feel Bad if You Want to

by guest blogger Corey Dargel

Eric G. Wilson's polemical book, against happiness, is not as dismal or misanthropic as you might expect from its title.  It's less against happiness in general than it is against a certain kind of performed happiness or superficial happiness.  Wilson wants us to embrace melancholy as a means of experiencing beauty in the world.  After all, he argues, part of what makes something profoundly beautiful is knowing that it will eventually pass away.

I'm sympathetic to Wilson's point of view, but when I think about art and culture (as opposed to, say, friends, loved ones, and pets), I'm not sure his philosophy of beauty holds up.  

Certainly the performing arts are ephemeral, but what about sculpture, painting, and film?  What about recordings of music?  Maybe Wilson would say that while some objects of art are relatively permanent, our experiences of them are not, and it is our experiences of these objects that we find beautiful.  Or maybe he would argue that sculpture, painting, film, recordings, etc., are representations of something ephemeral (i.e. a photograph of a time and place that no longer exists)

As I'm writing this, I'm thinking about the cellist/singer/composer Arthur Russell who died in 1992, at the age of 40.  Every time I listen to his music, I imagine what a better place the world would be if there were twice as many Arthur Russell songs in it.  What if we could still go out to see Russell perform his songs in concert?  How would he have embraced the exponential progress in music technology since his death?  

Maybe Wilson is right.  Maybe the fact that Arthur Russell passed away enhances my experience of his music, but I think I would be just as madly in love with it if he was still alive.