Sublime (philosophy)

"The sentiments of the sublime strain the powers of the soul more, and therefore tire sooner."

"Friendship has principally the stroke of the sublime in it, but the love of the sex that of the beautiful."

"Tragedy... distinguishes itself from comedy chiefly in... that in the former is touched the sentiment of the sublime, in the latter that of the beautiful."

"A somewhat old age unites itself more with the properties of the sublime, but youth with those of the beautiful."

"Boldly taking upon ourselves the dangers, as our own, of our native country, of the rights of our friends, is sublime."

"The subduing of one's passions by principles is sublime."

"The mathematical representation of the immense size of the fabric of the world, the metaphysical contemplations of eternity, of Providence, of the immortality of the soul, contain a certain dignity and sublimity."

"In moral properties true virtue only is sublime."

"[T]rue virtue can be grafted but upon principles, and the more general they are, the nobler and more sublime does it become. These principles are not speculative rules, but the consciousness of a feeling, which dwells in every human breast..."

"He, whose feeling inclines to the melancholy, is not so named because he, deprived of the joys of life, grieves in dark moping melancholy, but because his feelings, if they were encreased beyond a certain degree, or by any cause received a false bent, would easier tend to melancholy than to another state. He has chiefly a feeling for the sublime."

"All emotions of the sublime have something in them more enchanting, than the juggling charms of the beautiful. His being-well is rather contentment than mirth. He is steadfast. He therefore ranges his feelings under principles. They are the less subjected to inconstancy and to alteration, the more universal this principle is... The noble ground remains and is not so much subjected to the inconstancy, of external things. ...[W]hat befalls men, concerns [him] likewise. Then his procedure rests upon the highest ground of benevolence in human nature, and is extremely sublime, as well as to its immutability, as on account of the universality of its application."

"The man of a melancholy temper of mind gives himself little trouble about what others judge of, what they hold good or true, he relies on his own insight merely. As the motives with him assume the nature of principles; it is not easy to bring him to other thoughts; his steadfastness sometimes degenerates into stubbornness. He beholds the change of modes with indifference and their glitter with contempt."

"Friendship is sublime, and therefore for his feeling. He may perhaps lose a changeable friend; but the latter does not lose him so soon. The very memory of extinguished friendship is still venerable to him."

"Affability is beautiful, thoughtful taciturnity sublime. He is a good keeper of his own and of other's secrets."

"Veracity is sublime, and he hates lying or dissimulation. He has a high feeling for the dignity of human nature. He esteems himself and holds a man a creature that merits reverence. He suffers no abject submission, and breathes liberty in a noble breast. All chains, from the golden, which are worn at court, to the heavy iron ones of galley-slaves, are to him abominable. He is a severe judge as well of himself as of others, and not seldom tired of himself and of the world."

"Genius... consists... in the capacity for knowing, independently of the , not individual things, which have their existence only in their relations, but the Ideas of such things, and of being oneself the correlative of the Idea, and thus no longer an individual, but the pure subject of knowledge. Yet this faculty must exist in all men... for if not, they would be just as incapable of enjoying works of art as of producing them; they would have no susceptibility for the beautiful or the sublime... this power of knowing the Ideas in things, and consequently of transcending... personality for the moment... The man of genius... possessing this kind of knowledge... more continuously... [W]hile under its influence... presence of mind... enable[s] him to repeat in a voluntary and intentional work what he has learned... and this repetition is the work of art. Through this he communicates to others the Idea... unchanged... so that æsthetic pleasure is one and the same whether it is called forth by a work of art or directly by the contemplation of nature and life. ...That the Idea comes to us more easily from the work of art than directly from nature... arises from the fact that the artist... has reproduced in his work the pure Idea... abstracted... from the actual, omitting... disturbing accidents. The artist lets us see the world through his eyes. ...that he is able to lend us this gift... is acquired, and is the technical side of art."

"[A]fter the account which I have given... of the inner nature of æsthetical knowledge in its most general outlines, the following more exact philosophical treatment of the beautiful and the sublime will explain them both, in nature and in art, without separating them further. ...[W]e shall consider what takes place in a man when he is affected by the beautiful and the sublime; whether he derives this emotion directly from nature, from life, or partakes of it only through the medium of art, does not make any essential, but merely an external, difference."

"[I]f these very objects whose significant forms invite us to pure contemplation, have a hostile relation to the human will... so that it is menaced by the irresistible predominance of their power, or sinks into insignificance... if, nevertheless, the beholder... turns consciously away from it, forcibly detaches himself from his will and its relations, and, giving himself up entirely to knowledge, quietly contemplates those very objects... comprehends only their Idea, which is foreign to all relation, so that he lingers gladly over its contemplation, and is thereby raised above himself, his person, his will, and all will:—in that case he is filled with the sense of the sublime, he is in the state of spiritual exaltation, and therefore the object producing such a state is called sublime."

"Thus what distinguishes the sense of the sublime from that of the beautiful is this: in... the beautiful, pure knowledge has gained the upper hand without a struggle, for the beauty... has removed from consciousness without resistance... imperceptibly, the will and the knowledge of relations which is subject to it, so that what is left is the pure subject of knowledge without... will. On the other hand, in... the sublime that state of pure knowledge is only attained by a conscious and forcible breaking away from the relations of the... object to the will, which are... unfavourable, by a free and conscious transcending of the will..."

"Poetical composition results from two intellectual phenomena, meditation and inspiration. Meditation is a faculty; inspiration is a gift. All men, to a certain degree, can meditate; very few are inspired. Spiritus flat ubi vult [The spirit flows where it wills.]. In meditation, the spirit acts; in inspiration, it obeys; because the first is of men, the second comes from a higher source. He who gave us this power is stronger than we. These two processes of thoughts are intimately linked in the soul of the poet. The poet invites inspiration by meditation, as the prophets raised themselves to ecstasies by prayer. That the muse should reveal herself to him, he must in some sort have passed all his material existence in repose, in silence, and in meditation. He must be isolated from external life, to enjoy in its fullness that inward life, which develops in him a new existence; and it is only when the physical world has utterly vanished from before his eyes, that the ideal world is fully revealed to him. It seems that poetic inspiration has in it something too sublime for the common nature of man. Genius can compass its greater efforts only when the soul is released from the vulgar cares that follow it in life; for thought cannot take its wings till it has laid aside its burden. Thence comes it, doubtless, that inspiration is born only of meditation. Among the Jews, the people whose history is so rich in mysterious symbols when the priest had built the altar, he lighted upon it an earthly flame -- and it was then only that the divine ray descended from Heaven."

"Happy he who possesses this double power of meditation and inspiration, which is genius! Whatever may be the age on which he is, or the country—be he born in the bosom of domestic calamities, be he thrown on a time of popular convulsions, or, what is still more to be lamented, on a period of stagnant indifference—let him trust himself to the future; for, if the present belong to other men, the future is for him. He is of the number of chosen beings for whom a day is allotted. Sooner or later, the day comes; and it is then—fed by sublime thought, and elevated by divine inspiration—that he throws himself boldly before the world, with the cry of the poet upon his lips ‘Voici mon Orient: peuples levez les yeux!’"

"The most satisfactory theory of the sublime is that of Emmanuel Kant in his Critic of the Judgment. This philosopher distinguishes two kinds of sublime... the mathematical sublime, which results from the intuitions of time and of space, and the dynamical sublime, that is derived from the idea of force. The dynamical sublime is immaterial or material, according to the nature of the physical or spiritual force which is the source of it: the spiritual force gives rise to a second subdivision, as far as it may be intellectual or moral."

"[A]n earthquake, a hurricane, a storm, a volcanic eruption, occasion the dynamical physical sublime; whereas genius and heroic virtue produce the dynamical immaterial sublime in its two aspects, of which one regards and concerns the intellectual force of the mind, and the other relates to the moral energy of the human will."

"But the conceptions of time, of space, and of force, either corporeal or spiritual, cannot produce the sublime without the concourse of... the notion of the infinite and of the absolute, in which the human mind seeks naturally a refuge when the form of the object which appears to it cannot be seized on account of its grandeur, and surpasses even the forces of the imagination, which endeavours in vain to become master of it."

"Kant could not in any manner solve completely these three problems, in following the psychological and Cartesian procedure of his philosophy, and in adhering to the erroneous and false principles of his Critic of the Pure Reason. I will endeavour to supply... these deficiencies."

"The sublime belongs to the æsthetic as well as the Beautiful, because it has, in common with it, the following properties: l. It is not a thing entirely intelligible nor entirely sensible, but is composed of these two elements. 2. The intelligible element and the sensible element are there united in one single individual, whose unity results from the first element, and implies its superiority over the other. 3. Its seat is the imagination. 4. From the imagination it may pass into the world of art, as it resides already in the world of nature. 5. It produces a pure and lively pleasure in the soul of him who enjoys it, although its essence does not consist in that agreeable impression which is a simple effect of it. 6. It is a mixture of subjective and objective elements."

"The ' is a thing in the Lacanian sense: the material leftover, the materialization of the terrifying, impossible jouissance. By looking at the wreck we gain an insight into the forbidden domain, into a space that should be left unseen... This terrifying impact has nothing to do with meaning—or... it is a meaning that is permeated with enjoyment, a Lacanian jouissance. The wreck of the Titanic therefore functions as a sublime object: a positive, material object elevated to the status of the impossible Thing."

"Above all... Beauty and Sublimity are opposed along the axis pleasure-displeasure: a view of Beauty offers us pleasure, while 'the object is received as sublime with a pleasure that is only possible through the mediation of dipleasure' (Kant...). In short, the Sublime is 'beyond the pleasure principle', it is a paradoxical pleasure procured by displeasure itself... [T]he relation of Beauty to Sublimity coincides with the relation of immediacy to mediation—further proof that the Sublime must follow Beauty..."

"Homologous to Hegel's determination of the difference between the death of the pagan god and the death of Christ (the first being merely the death of the... terrestrial representation... while with the death of Christ... is of... God as a positive, transcendent, unattainable entity...) ...what Kant fails to take into account is the way the experience of the nullity, of the inadequacy of the phenomenal world of representation, which befalls us in the sentiment of the Sublime, means at the same time the nullity, the nonexistence of the transcendent Thing-in-itself as a positive entity."

"[T]he Sublime is no longer an (empirical) object indicating through its very inadequacy the dimension of a transcendent Thing-in-itself (Idea) but an object which occupies the place, replaces, fills out the empty place of the Thing as the void, as the pure nothing of absolute negativity—the Sublime is an object whose positive body is just an embodiment of Nothing. This logic of an object which, by its very inadequacy, 'gives body' to the absolute negativity of the Idea, is articulated in Hegel..."