In my third year of varsity I needed a filler course to make up some lost credits. As with all filler courses, I chose something that interested me - as opposed to something useful or necessary for my majors.
The course I chose was the Philosophy of Art and Literature - a suggestive name that promised all of the requisite musing and pontificating that all humanities students like to do (mostly while they're stoned).
It turned out to be one of the most challenging and rewarding courses I did at varsity, eventually eating up so much of my time that my majors started suffering. My digs mates and girlfriend would cast worried looks at each other as I wandered around the house muttering about how Kant was both right and wrong about aesthetics and taste.
I was prone to jumping up in the middle of movies or dinner to write something down, frantically repeating whatever gem I had thought up before I forgot it. Philosophy is weird that way - the thoughts that lead to an insight are normally so tenuously linked that the merest distraction can break the chain of logic.
One of the major sections of the course was the link between morality and beauty, or the ethics of aesthetics, as we called it. I won't go into too much detail (partially because the philosophy behind it is lengthy and detailed, but mostly because this was some years ago, and I've forgotten almost everything except for the main gist), but the crux of the issue was that something can't be truly beautiful if it is in some way morally corrupt.
I took issue with aspects of the stance, because they denied a lot of legitimate art true recognition, and don't take into account various outside influences. Leni Riefenstahl's Triumph of the Will, for example, could never be considered beautiful or a work of art because of its Nazi content. And this is one of the most important movies of all time - one that revolutionised the industry, and equipped future filmmakers with techniques that are still used to this day.
I maintained that the reason the film was considered morally reprehensible was because the Nazis didn't win the war. If we lived under Nazi rule, the film would be considered a thing of beauty. Moreover, at the time of the film's making (1934), no-one could have foreseen the full nature of Nazis' future war crimes. In other words, the work's temporal and geo-political relativity plays a part in the judgement of its beauty.
For the most part, morality asserts itself in works of art. Films and books (and games) are constrained by it. Even if the main character is a villain, he or she will see the light and become a hero by the end of the book/movie/game. Either that, or he or she will pay penance for their crimes. Immorality has to be punished.
It's frustrating.
For once, I'd like to play a character that is evil to the core - a true villain.
One of my favourite literary characters of all time, Iago (of Othello fame), was the epitome of evil, and he rocked the Kasbah! Of course, literary conventions and the invasive ethics of aesthetics put an untimely end to good ol' Iago. How boring.
I want a RTS where I can play as Nazi Germany, and take over the world; or Communist Russia, and nuke America. What about a FPS where I can take hostages instead of saving them? Or a quest to open the gates to hell instead of closing them?
After all, the world needs evil. There can be no heroes without villains.
Log in to comment