Richard Johnson Art
Most people tend to think the best of those who are blessed with
beauty; we have difficulty imagining that physical perfection can
conceal twisted emotions or a damaged mind.
There are various orders of beauty, causing men to make fools of
themselves in various styles.
Beauty can be consoling, disturbing, sacred, profane; it can be
exhilarating, appealing, inspiring, chilling. It can affect us
in an unlimited variety of ways. Yet it is never viewed with
indifference: beauty demands to be noticed; it speaks to us
directly like the voice of an intimate friend. If there are people
who are indifferent to beauty, then it is surely because they do
not perceive it.
To speak of beauty is to enter another and more exalted realm--
a realm sufficiently apart from our everyday concerns as to be
mentioned only with a certain hesitation. People who are always
in praise and pursuit of the beautiful are an embarrassment, like
people who make a constant display of their religious faith.
Somehow, we feel such things should be kept for our exalted
moments, and not paraded in company, or allowed to spill out over dinner.
Beauty had this penalty -- it came too readily, came too completely.
It stilled life -- froze it. One forgot the little agitations;
the flush, the pallor, some queer distortion, some light or shadow,
which made the face unrecognisable for a moment and yet added
a quality one saw for ever after. It was simpler to smooth that
all out under the cover of beauty.
DEAN KOONTZ, Odd Thomas
GEORGE ELIOT, Adam Bede
ROGER SCRUTON, Beauty
ROGER SCRUTON, Beauty
VIRGINIA WOOLF, To the Lighthouse
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