G. CONCLUSION
XXI
Scientific Knowledge and Artistic Creation
(See Exposition on Brief, Chapter 21)
O
UR THEORY
of knowledge has rid cognition of the
merely passive character often associated with it, and has
conceived it as an activity of the human spirit. It is
generally supposed that the content of knowledge is received
from without; indeed, it is supposed that we preserve the objectivity
of knowledge in proportion as we refrain from adding anything
of our own to the material taken hold of. Our discussion has shown
that the true content of knowledge is never the material of which we
become aware but the Idea conceived in the mind, which leads us more
deeply into the fabric of the world than does any analysis and
observation of the external world as mere experience. The Idea is the
content of knowledge. In contrast with the percept passively
received, knowledge is thus the product of the activity of the human
mind.
We have hereby
brought into close proximity cognition and artistic creation, which
is also a product of the activity of man. But we have at the same
time introduced the necessity of clarifying the mutual
relationship of the two.
The activity of
cognition, as well as that of art, requires that man elevate himself
from reality as product to reality as the producing; that he ascend
from the created to creation; from chance to necessity. While the
outer reality always shows us only a product of creative Nature, we
elevate ourselves in the spirit to the unity of Nature, which now
appears to us as that which creates. Every object of reality
represents to us one of the innumerable possibilities lying
hidden in the creative bosom of Nature. Our mind rises to the vision
of that fountain-head in which all these potentialities are
contained. Science and art are only the objects upon which man stamps
what this vision offers to him. In science this occurs only in the
form of the Idea: that is, in the directly mental, or spiritual,
medium. In art it occurs in objects sensibly or mentally perceptible.
In science, Nature, as “that which includes every
single,” appears purely as Idea; in art, an object of the
external world appears as a representative of the all-inclusive. The
infinite, which science seeks in the finite and endeavors to
represent in Idea, is stamped by art upon a material taken from the
world of existence. What appears in science as the Idea is in art the
image. The same infinite is the object both of science and of art,
except that its appearance here is different from its appearance
there. The manner of representation is different. Goethe
criticized the practice of speaking of the idea of the beautiful as
if the beautiful were anything else than the sensible reflection of
the Idea.
Here one sees how
the true artist must create out of the fountain-head of all
existence; how he stamps upon his works the inevitable which, in
science, we seek in the form of Ideas in Nature and in the mind.
Science discovers in Nature her conformity to law; art does no
less, except that it imprints this upon crude matter. An artistic
product is no less a part of Nature than is a natural product, except
that natural law has been poured into the former as it manifests
itself to the human mind. The great works of art that Goethe saw in
Italy appeared to him as direct expressions of the inevitable
perceived by man in Nature. To Goethe, therefore, art also is a
manifestation of secret laws of Nature.
In a work of art everything depends
upon the degree to which an artist has implanted the Idea in matter.
Not what he handles, but how he handles it, is the important point.
If in science the substance externally perceived has to be completely
submerged so that only its essential nature — the Idea —
remains, in artistic production this substance must remain except
that its peculiarities, its non-essentials, must be completely
subdued by the artistic treatment. The object must be lifted
completely above the sphere of the accidental and transferred into
that of the inevitable. In artistic beauty nothing must be left upon
which the artist has not impressed his own spirit.
Thewhat
must be surmounted by the how.
The surmounting of
the sensible by the spirit is the goal of art and of science. The
latter surmounts the sensible through resolving it wholly into
spirit; the former through implanting the spirit in it. Science sees
the Idea through the sensible; art sees the Idea in the sensible. A
sentence of Goethe's which expresses these truths in a
comprehensive way may serve to bring our reflections to a close:
“I think science might be called the knowledge of the general,
abstract knowledge; art, on the other hand, would be science applied
in an action; science would be reason and art its mechanism, so that
it might also be called practical science. Finally, therefore,
science would be the theorem and art the
problem.”
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