Art

Philosophy Book Notes

Books used 

Aristotle - Poetics (Oxford)

1 Notes selected

Saint Agustine - Confessions (Oxford) 

1 Notes selected

Art

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Paintings

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Aristotles parallel between painting and poetry: painting, for him, was essentially a form of language, and the worth of a painting depended on the value of the thoughts that it expresses. (Aristotles Poetics Oxford p.xxxi)

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I was captivated by theatrical shows. They were full of representations of my own miseries and fuelled my fire. Why is it that a person should wish to experience suffering by watching grievous and tragic events which he himself would not wish to endure? Nevertheless he wants to suffer the pain given by being a spectator of those suffering, and the pain itself is his pleasure. (Saint Augustine - Confessions (Oxford) p.35) Hence came my love for suffering, but not of a kind that  pierced me very deeply; for my longing was not to experience myself miseries such as I saw on stage. I wanted only to hear stories and imaginary legends of suffering which, as it were, scratched me on the surface. (Saint Augustine - Confessions (Oxford) p.37) 

Plays

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Text Version:

1 Paintings 
Aristotles parallel between painting and poetry: painting, for him, was essentially a form of language, and the worth of a painting depended on the value of the thoughts that it expresses. (Aristotles Poetics Oxford p.xxxi)

2 Plays 
I was captivated by theatrical shows. They were full of representations of my own miseries and fuelled my fire. Why is it that a person should wish to experience suffering by watching grievous and tragic events which he himself would not wish to endure? Nevertheless he wants to suffer the pain given by being a spectator of those suffering, and the pain itself is his pleasure. (Saint Augustine - Confessions (Oxford) p.35)
 
Hence came my love for suffering, but not of a kind that  pierced me very deeply; for my longing was not to experience myself miseries such as I saw on stage. I wanted only to hear stories and imaginary legends of suffering which, as it were, scratched me on the surface. (Saint Augustine - Confessions (Oxford) p.37)