Against Interpretation

Susan Sontag has a point. In her well-known essay, "Against Interpretation" (1966), Sontag argues that the classical mimetic theory of art has created an unnecessary distinction between form and content, which modern (and now postmodern) theories have merely intensified. Interpretation presumes that art must have content that can be extracted for use outside the work. Sontag writes, "Directed to art, interpretation means plucking a set of elements (the X, the Y, the Z, and so forth) from the whole work. The task of interpretation is virtually one of translation." In the hands of interpretation, art becomes, at best, merely the visual illustration of an idea.

The implications of this essay for writing about art from a self-consciously religious, philosophical, or any other perspective that presumes a meta-narrative, are significant. Art and meta-narratives fight against one another. The meta-narrative is all encompassing. It is a worldview, a framework within which everything has a place and everything makes sense. The role of art criticism, in this context, is to demonstrate how a work of art fits securely into this schema. For these interpretions, whether Marxist, Freudian, Formalist, or neo-Calvinist, art is significant only insofar as it affirms and strengthens the meta-narrative owned by the interpreter.

Yet art is a moving target. It refuses to yield to the meta-narrative, to be framed in an interpretation. It exists only in its concrete specificity and presupposes no larger narrative, although its presence comes from the sense that the work could be nevertheless a part of a great order.

What do meta-narratives presume and why do works of art resist them?  They presume the End. But they presume not only that there is such an End to an over-arching Story that unites all stories, but how particular works of art fit into it.

The consequences are dire. Art comes to possess its integrity only insofar as it can be used in an interpreter's meta-narrative, grist for the interpreter's ideological mill. Art is deprived of its own integrity as a world-making work. It becomes either a passive reflection of a meta-narrative or it needs it to give it life.

The danger of religious interpretations, which presuppose God, especially those shaped by the Christian tradition, is to lead with the End or to arrive at the End much too quickly.  St. Paul and St. John appear to do precisely this when they write that it is in Christ that all things have their being, that through Christ all things are made, and that Christ is working to make all things new. "All things," as I have written in this blog, means not just art in general, but includes specific works of art. But the temptation is to interpret all works of art as merely examples of Christ's work in the work, as only evidence of or enhanced by a Christian worldview. 

But Sts. Paul and John are not advocating interpretation, they are advocating faith. For those who work from a Christian perspective, the meta-narrative is not ours. It is God's. We are means by which God's meta-narrative is being written, but we are not the ones writing it. Moreover, God's meta-narrative is not an act of interpretation. It is an act of re-creation, which will reconcile all things, not only works of art but interpretations as well. Criticism that rushes too quickly to fit works of art into a Christian meta-narrative do violence not only to art but to the Christian meta-narrative itself, in which we too, like works of art, find our being as it unfolds. The Christian tradition teaches that God does not impinge upon our freedom but incorporates it. Yet it is all too easy for Christian interpreters to do violence to human freedom and the freedom of art by presuming the relationship of means to ends, to presume to be the ones in control of the meta-narrative. Andres Serrano's Piss Christ was the subject of just such a meta-narrative interpretation in Paris this past week when it was attacked by a "pious" viewer, protecting God's religion.

Moreover, God is a moving target. He cannot be contained in any narrative. The Spirit blows where it may. As C.S. Lewis writes in The Chronicles of Narnia, "Aslan is not a tame lion." While we might affirm the Christian meta-narrative as an act of faith, how it is being written is God's work not ours. We must maintain that gap between the that and the how in order to preserve the freedom of art and, equally important, the freedom of our interpretations to be more than merely "translations" but deep engagements with the work of art that preserve its unified wholeness that, nevertheless, needs no justification from interpretation, Christian or otherwise.

It is in preserving this precarious gap between belief that there is a meta-narrative and how it is unfolding that critics can allow the whispers of a work of art to be heard, whispers that might indeed point toward a deep order and structure in the world that might transcend even the most meta of narratives.

 

 

 

 

Comments

[Jonathan Evens]

I think I agree with your conclusion but not the argument by which you reach it. Criticism that rushes too quickly to fit works of art into a Christian meta-narrative without there having been a deep engagement with the work of art that preserves its unified wholeness does, I would agree, do violence to human freedom and the freedom of art by presuming the relationship of means to ends.

However, I don’t think that this argument can be adequately based on Sontag’s distinction between form and content because as soon as one moves beyond factual reportage of form, one is instantly in the realm of interpretation where one’s worldview (whether consciously or unconsciously) frames all one’s responses to the artwork, however deep one’s engagement with the work of art may be. It seems to me that Sontag is presupposing the possibility of an engagement with the artwork by the viewer which is entirely free of any internal influence and where engagement is only in relation to the work itself. I don’t think that is possible because each of us inevitably and unconsciously view all that we encounter through the lens of our particular perspective. That doesn’t prevent us from engaging with anything new but does mean that we cannot have an entirely objective (‘God’s eye’ perspective?) perspective on anything with which we engage. We are always context bound and therefore interpreting, and any argument which does not acknowledge this reality seems to me to be misguided or dishonest.

Your conclusion though seems to be about the extent to which we are to be careful in our interpretation rather than denying, as it seems to me that Sontag does, that interpretation is inevitable and necessary.

Sontag’s argument raises substantial questions: on what basis can form and content genuinely be separated; how does the separation of form and content work with conceptual art which explicitly illustrates ideas, how can the artist’s intent and craft be entirely separated from the work, how can the viewer bring nothing of themselves to their response to the work?

To my mind dealing with both the form and content of scripture - micro-narratives through which a meta-narrative is threaded - provides the freedom and space (through the gaps, contradictions, repetitions and duplications which subvert the linear coherence of the meta-narrative found in scripture) for which you are arguing whilst also acknowledging the real influence of that meta-narrative on the interpretations that we form as Christians. This it seems to me is similar to N.T. Wright’s suggestion that the narrative of scripture is like a five act play where we are actors in the fifth act improvising our part on the basis of what we know of the first four acts and the hints that we have of how the play will end.

[Todd H.D. Meier]

I think that Mr. Evans is missing a point. He said: "as soon as one moves beyond factual reportage of form, one is instantly in the realm of interpretation where one’s worldview (whether consciously or unconsciously) frames all one’s responses to the artwork" But, and correct me if I am wrong, didn't Sontag speak to this when she wrote, "Of course, I don’t mean interpretation in the broadest sense, the sense in which Nietzsche (rightly) says, 'There are no facts, only interpretations.' By interpretation, I mean here a conscious act of the mind which illustrates a certain code, certain “rules” of interpretation." It seems that Mr. Evans is trying to fuse our initial reactions and the broader more academic sense of interpretation into one being. Another example is when Mr. Evans wrote: "We are always context bound and therefore interpreting, and any argument which does not acknowledge this reality seems to me to be misguided or dishonest" It appears that he might again be missing the point of what Sontag was saying.

And yet. Mr. Evans does have a point. We are always interpreting, in a sense. I am going to operate under the assumption that if one thing, through the will of a person, is possible then the opposite must at least be conceivable. For example, we breath air, it is possible not to breath. Therefore, Sontag is saying that YES, we do go into looking at art interpreting it, but she is saying that since that is the case it must also be possible to take ten mental steps backward, and instead of instantly asking, "What does this mean?" (and therefore trying to suck it into a narrative) we could, as humans, respect the image for what it is. Art for art's sake, in a sense.

I would like to end with looking at Sontag's comment which said: "None of us can ever retrieve that innocence before all theory when art knew no need to justify itself, when one did not ask of a work of art what it said because one knew (or thought one knew) what it did." This statement sort of has a hopelessness to it that I do not agree with. Why can't we now move onto something greater? Could we not recognize what the innocence used to be, recognize where it has gone, and now move on. In a sense we are Knowing Ourselves, like Socrates would have liked.

Now, I would actually like to end with another way to look at the Christian narrative. This is from a packet called "Six Spiritual Profiles" by R. Moulds, rev. from 2006. The sixth profile described is Christian Liberty. In a nutshell it says that we, as Christians, are now free in Christ. Being free, we may do as we please. I Cor. 10:29 says: "For why should my freedom be judged by another's conscious? If I take part in the meal with thankfulness, why am I denounced because of something that I thank God for?" My point in including this idea was to say that perhaps faith should be very very personal. That, being free, we may peruse whatever we wish, and our faith, instead of being something that needs to be constantly defended, or something that is constantly used to defend or attack art, is instead something deep deep inside us. Is it possible that using faith too much too often trivializes it, and makes it lose it's power? I see this view as different from what Mr. Evans commented about at the end of his post. Do we need to look to the last four acts solely to know how we are to act? Or is our freedom more than that? I also wonder if this idea doesn't fit into what Siedell was saying about not trying to cram art into a Christian narrative. Just a thought.

[Todd H.D. Meier]

I am posting multiple things. This is more of an initial reaction than my last post.

First of all. I can’t believe Sontag. This stuff is insane. Totally mind blowing. I can count the number of times on two hands that my mind had been blown while in college. This counts.

“In most modern instances, interpretation amounts to the philistine refusal to leave the work of art alone. Real art has the capacity to make us nervous. By reducing the work of art to its content and then interpreting that, one tames the work of art. Interpretation makes art manageable, conformable.” (Sontag)

I can’t even believe this. I can’t. I have been thinking about this. In modern art history class, some of the people would get upset because of what the critiques said. For example, Meret Oppenheim’s fur lined tea cup. Now, when you think about it, the idea of drinking a warm liquid next to fur, the implication that it is sexual is inescapable. But, if you leave it alone, could it be so much more?

I don’t know. We spent too much time in that class arguing about the artists original idea verses what the critiques said. However, after thinking about all this stuff, I am thinking that perhaps, perhaps, the fur lined tea cup could stand alone. (what I mean by that is that perhaps she did not have any other implications or big ideas other than that image), which I am now thinking, that that image could stand alone, as it’s own idea, or thing. Concept. Form. Essence.

Oh! (I am reading the article as I write this) I was getting a Joyce book the other day, after it was suggested by some peers, and I saw how many freaking companions and guides there were to reading it. And when I went to check it out, the girl (an English major) was like “ugh, you have to read that for a class?”(I was just reading it for fun). It got me thinking, that all those interpretations and companion’s guides probably killed the work of a book that, while weird, is really quite something.

It’s like the end to V for Vendetta. (That’s a movie). The inspector asks Eve who V was, and instead of giving him a realistic answer delving into the psychological and Marxist ideas behind him, she rather poetically recites the names of all the people in the movie that had the same sort of spirit or essence (or form or content). Things like that sometimes can’t be put into words. They just can’t be.

This whole message has me quite troubled. How ironic is it that I am trying to agree with an art critique by posting a message that appears to be advocating getting rid of art criticism. HA. That’s funny. Whell. Let me know what you think, cause I am not sure about this myself to be honest. And thanks, for actually stimulating my mind. Happy Monday.

Todd

P.S. I feel like I just keep writing. Dang. Is it possible that we could move on? That we could recognize what this interpretation does, and then move past it. Is it possible that art critics could become something more, something not yet thought of? Whell, of course. Anything is possible... Just a thought.

I suppose Sontag answered this later on with her thought: “The function of criticism should be to show how it is what it is, even that it is what it is, rather than to show what it means.” (Sontag) Anyway. Yeah.

[Todd H.D. Meier]

“Once upon a time (a time when high art was scarce), it must have been a revolutionary and creative move to interpret works of art. Now it is not. What we decidedly do not need now is further to assimilate Art into Thought, or (worse yet) Art into Culture.” (Sontag)

I am posting a lot of different comments. Okay. This here. This is something. I have been thinking about this in terms of the LCMS church. Now. We have Luther, who is a rebel and a sort of revolutionary thinker, a changer. I mean, he wrote hymns to the tunes of bar songs. He certainly had a rebellious spirit and quite a daring nature. Now, today, I would venture to say that we have taken his teachings, and made them just like the Catholic Church was then. Boring (perhaps) and thinking that they are absolutely right. INSTEAD of remembering and capturing his spirit. His style. Wouldn't that be interesting to make that a basis for a denomination. That could turn out bad, sure. But so could and perhaps so is what we are doing now. Just a thought.

There are so many directions that this thought can take us. (and I mean ‘us’ as in humanity). I guess my main point would be to say that perhaps it would be best to try and capture that spirit in whatever you do. That spirit of what Sontag hints at. To be truly revolutionary and creative, again, in whatever you are doing. Just a thought.

Todd

[Jonathan Evens]

I agree that Sontag uses interpretation in two different senses. Working, as she does, with both a broader and narrower definition of interpretation seems to me to confuse the argument. If 'There are no facts, only interpretations' then, by definition, a conscious act of the mind which illustrates a certain code, certain “rules” of interpretation, has no validity.

Sontag and Seidell both want the artwork to be viewed as itself; a unified whole. I agree that the artwork is a unified whole. Form and content cannot be separated and are symbiotic. Yet the artwork only exists in isolation when it is not seen and when it is seen it automatically exists in a network of relationships within which it does not simply exist but lives, in part through interpretation. These relationships include the artist who made it, the curator who exhibits it, the critic who reviews it, the historian who places it in art history, the auctioneer who values it, the viewer who sees it together with its relationship with its time, place and culture.

None of these are definitive - the artwork is itself - but the work has life as it is seen and has influence. The existence of the artwork comes through its making but its life comes through the network of relationships within which it is seen, which involves interpretation.

My sense, which may well have been misjudged, was that these aspects of interpretation were being downplayed in the original post.