In delving into the prominent aesthetic ideas of 18th century French Enlightenment, the overtones are clear but remain contradictory. The aesthetic ideas of this time can almost only be described as a great, intellectually energized boxing match. In the one corner we have our contenders for art and its ability to forward dialectical reasoning— the idea that art is, roughly, a mode of philosophical thought expressed through a beautiful medium. In the other corner we have our contenders for sentimental aestheticism: the idea that art is produced for the sake of emotional response, beauty, and subjective interpretation, not having any significant ties to rational thought.
When faced with the work of Voltaire’s aesthetic ideas, one runs into the same problem had when researching Diderot. Both philosopher’s aesthetic theories are fragmented throughout introductions, chapters and prefaces over their many, many writings; and Voltaire’s aesthetics seem to morph and contradict over time. The relationship between Voltaire and Diderot was, oddly, not very intellectually charged. Rather, their correspondence seems to be what one may see in emails between coworkers at odds. Their respect for each other’s careers is clear, yet they bickered over ideas on Shakespeare’s poetry, the continuation of certain projects, ideas for new projects, and the critical receptions of their work.
Voltaire was keenly aware of both arguments in aesthetic thought at this time. He believed in the possibility that art held great potential for embedded dialectical reasoning and philosophical truth. However, it seems he couldn’t bring himself to ignore the other side. Art, to Voltaire and sentimental aesthetic philosophers, is something which prompts emotions in an audience. Art grabs ahold of our minds, producing opinions, emotional responses, and personal connections. One cannot ignore the possibility that art has great intellectual value, but as art interacts with our emotional selves, the intellectual value may be interlaced with our personal experiences and emotional proclivities. Art, to Voltaire, interacts with our “sensibilité” (from “Essay on Epick Poetry,” 1727). When looking into the etymology of this french word, we come up with the latin sensibilis. These words define a kind of emotional or perceptual power we have in ourselves. However, there’s a nuance to the word I believe the English “sensitivity” or “sentimental” loses. Sensibilis is, roughly, a perception of the outside world that is emotional, but also freighted with an epistemological gain, where we have both an emotional reaction, yet also a detection of possible knowledge, understanding, or philosophical truth. This is an idea more nuanced than dialectical or sentimental views on art, but a view that Voltaire seems to hold near and dear throughout his career. He believed that art’s intellectual meat was interlaced with its emotional edge. This would make art produce unique takeaways for each individual viewer, as each individual’s mind has different emotional tendencies and different intellectual breadths. This is a view, broadly, that art interacts with consciousness. If consciousness has both the ability to produce emotions and the ability to render and assent to knowledge, then art holds a unique power which strikes at both.
Where Voltaire seems to stand in the middle of the argument between art’s sentimental values and dialectical values, Diderot leans toward the dialectical side. Diderot believed that art was a mode of philosophical thought presented with a striking beauty. Both Diderot and Voltaire seem to believe in the emotional power of an artist’s work: the ability to produce feelings of the sublime, happiness, anger and satisfaction, all while appreciating its beauty. However, where Voltaire believed art produces personal interpretations, Diderot was more struck by the idea that art could hold universal messages of virtue and dialectical truth. Where Diderot believed a certain artwork could be translated into certain philosophical conclusions, Voltaire seemed to think that no person’s interpretation of art is the exact same, as everyone has a personalized, emotional edge to their views of the world, making any dialectical conclusions about art work too broad, and easily non inclusive.
To illustrate this disagreement, I’d like to bring into frame a poem from the popular poet Mary Oliver entitled “Roses”:
Roses
Everyone now and again wonders about
those questions that have no ready
answers: first cause, God’s existence,
what happens when the curtain goes
down and nothing stops it, not kissing,
not going to the mall, not the Super
Bowl.
“Wild Roses,” I said to them one morning.
“Do you have the answers? And if you do,
Would you tell me?”
The roses laughed softly. “Forgive us,”
they said. “But as you can see, we are
just now entirely busy being roses.”
[Oliver, Mary. Felicity. Penguin Books, New York, 2015.]
In one way or another, one could say this is a poem about enjoying life rather than analyzing it. It is about living in the moment, forgetting the big questions, and instead focusing on just how blissful life can be. That would be a Diderot-esque understanding of this poem. It would be a way to bring out some dialectical truth or conclusion about what we read. Voltaire would reject the idea that the poem has any all encompassing truth. Going into the framework of Voltaire’s aesthetics, we may say that although one could see this is a poem about living blissfully, we will all have different connections and attitudes about it. For example, if one reader is particularly troubled by the idea of God or death, they may be particularly struck by this poem, feeling motivated to live like the roses: in the moment, in blissful content for life itself. But, another reader may love the big questions like God’s existence, perceive the roses of the poem as ignorant and dismissive, and feel compelled to answer these bigger questions. That would be a more Volatarian analysis of this poem, seeing that there may be a common conclusion about what the roses may represent or point toward, but our identities and emotions will obscure and personalize these viewpoints, creating no straightforward, universal takeaway.
When comparing Diderot and Voltaire, we can understand their disagreement as a discourse on how broad we can understand and explain aesthetics. Whether we can understand aesthetics as a type of veiled philosophical thought, or whether we can only understand art as a unique experience between a viewer’s consciousness and the piece itself. Although they seem at odds, these views quite honestly seem to have a mysterious similarity. To experience art is to test our emotional depth. Where I may love one poem for its connection to my innermost thoughts, another reader may scoff at its premise. There is however, a golden thread between both parties that remains important. Art may have a general premise or conclusion, presiding over all viewers. Yet as a viewer looks into a piece, reads it and contemplates, this general conclusion branches out, making two parties agree on general ideas, but disagree on the fine edges, and remain staunch about the sadness or happiness it gave them. Maybe you and I don’t have the same reactions to Mary Oliver. Maybe you think the roses are idiots, and I think they understand the true meaning of life. Yet we can agree on one thing: the roses are “entirely busy being roses,” and seem to enjoy their flowery disposition.