Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Great Regulars: In reality, when we read

or contemplate an artistic production by a new author, the fundamental question which arises in our soul is always this: "Well, what kind of a man are you? How do you differ from all other men whom I know, and what new thing can you tell me about the way we ought to look upon our life?" No matter what the artist may represent, — saints, robbers, kings, lackeys, — we seek and see only the artist’s soul.

from Daily Times: Purple Patch: Commanded by art --Leo Tolstoy



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But a literary critic should have no emotions except those immediately provoked by a work of art—and these (as I have already hinted) are, when valid, perhaps not to be called emotions at all. Coleridge is apt to take leave of the data of criticism, and arouse the suspicion that he has been diverted into a metaphysical hare-and-hounds.

from Daily Times: Purple Patch: Critics and critics --TS Eliot



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