  Damn it, the new Jane's Addiction song is bueno. Hold on whilst I burn it onto a CD. Taking a little break from the paper writing session I launched into this afternoon as a relief from the excessive sun exposure and the heavy conscience resulting from a late night of drinking and smoking with friends that lasted into the morning.
The temperature was right to get a lot of difficult writing worked through without much effort. Its so gratifying to nail down complex material, grafting quotes into the paper like they were born there. T.S. Eliot and Friedrich Nietzsche and the elimination of the self in the artists renderings. Pretty difficult reading, some of that stuff. But the paper came off like witchcraft. Brilliant.
So I took a break finally to take a drive down to Trader Joes to see Bryan at work. Ended up bagging for him at the register, feeling alternately a stranger there and incredibly comfortable slipped back into that role. Bagging is fun, kind of an addictive challenge like a marathon of Tetris. Some kind of talent that I seem to have taken to. I wonder if customers even notice the genius when they unpack their groceries. Maybe calling it genius is a bit hyperbolic. Signed a petition outside the store as I left, feeling a touch grounded to my community for being a registered voter with the power of the pen in hand.
I signed one for wetlands preservation, but the other two I had to decline. So discerning! This voter can read the petition and make a decision! Its a kick in the pants sometimes to exercise a highly opinionated disposition through healthy outlets. Came time this afternoon to do my reading for my literary commentary class. I went first for the piece Id read once already Against Interpretation by Sontag. Read it a couple of years ago, but without the context of the history of critical theorists, it didnt make as much sense as this time.
And I have to say that it has reconstructed my whole take on the subject of critiquing art. If youll permit me to explicate just a bit I need to throw these points out. Dont know if Im in the mind state to really discuss it. Well see. Maybe tomorrow. Just for a teaser, Ill say it has functioned to call into question (again) the purpose/value of therapy and those interpretations.
Once upon a time (say, for Dante), it must have been a revolutionary and creative move to design works of art so that they might be experienced on several levels. Now it is not. It reinforces the principle of redundancy that is the principle affliction of modern life. But I think for that to have its due impact, I need to backtrack a bit 1: Interpretation first appears in the culture of late classical antiquity, when the power and credibility of myth had been broken by the realistic view of the world introduced by scientific enlightenment (3).
2. Interpretation thus presupposes a discrepancy between the clear meaning of the text and the demands of (later) readers. It seeks to resolve that discrepancy The interpreter, without actually erasing or rewriting the text, is altering it He claims to be only making it intelligible, by disclosing its true meaning (3).
3. The old style of interpretation was insistent, but respectful; it erected another meaning on top of the literal one. The modern style of interpretation excavates, and as it excavates, destroys; it digs behind the text, to find a sub-text which is the true one (3). 4. interpretation is the revenge of the intellect upon art. And further: By reducing the work of art to its content and then interpreting that, one tames the work of art. Interpretation makes art manageable, comfortable (4-5). An aside: D.H. Lawrence said, Never trust the teller, trust the tale.
You like my enumerations? 5. It is always the case that the interpretation of this type indicates a dissatisfaction (conscious or unconscious) with the work, a wish to replace it by something else (6). Huh? HUH? Are you following me here? You should read the piece. Its rather short, succinct. To consolidate the argument for her 6. the mark of something good? Suppose its when the beauty and sophistication of the images subvert before the our eyes the callow pseudo-intellectuality of the story I could insert some more about form vs. content, but I dont want to ruin the climax of exegesis.
To continue 7. T ransparence is the highest, most liberating value in artand in criticismtoday. Transparence means experiencing the luminousness of the thing in itself, of things being what they are (9). 8. see the quote above or let me just repeat myself: Once upon a time (say, for Dante), it must have been a revolutionary and creative move to design works of art so that they might be experienced on several levels.
Now it is not.
It reinforces the principle of redundancy that is the principle affliction of modern life (9). 9. Interpretation takes the sensory experience of the work of art for granted, and proceeds from there. This cannot be taken for granted (9). And finally, #10: Ill consolidate these bits. What we decidedly do not need now is further to assimilate Art into Thought, or (more yet) Art into Culture. Interpretation takes the sensory experience of the work of art for granted, and proceeds from there. This cannot be taken for granted Ours is a culture based on excess, on overproduction; the result is a steady loss of sharpness in our sensory experience (9). Our task is to cut back content so that we can see the thing at all (9). The clincher: "Our task is not to find the maximum amount of content in a work of art, much less to squeeze more content in a work than is already there.
Our task is to cut back content so that we can see the thing at all. The aim of all commentary on art now should be to make works of artand by analogy, our own experiencemore, rather than less, real to us. 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 .
In place of hermeneutics we need an erotics of art (9-10). So, shut up Hamlet. Value the reality and stop thinking so much about it, trying to string together fragments of logic that cheapens the power of the moment. The experience. Yeah. Ill site this essay on the defence stand sometime in the future. 
