________________________________ From: Robert Paul <rpaul@xxxxxxxx> Torgeir wwrote "There is no music before language." Jacques Derrida, Of Grammatology > The context and meaning of this is not clear, but taken as a bare statement >it seems to belong to that category of self-regarding dogmas that may have >special appeal to students of language: dogmas that language is 'fundamental', >or 'primary' or that language is 'central' or the 'royal road' to >understanding - so that, for example, the view that thought is >'language-dependent' is liable to be accepted by such people on the nod and >without much thought (language-dependent or not). That students and theorists of language should hold to views that suggest reality is somehow linguistic, or even that (almost) everything we know or everything that is the case is somehow linguistic, bears comparison with prevalent dogmas in other fields: the mathematician who believes everything is at root mathematical, the physicist who believes everything at bottom is physical, the historian who believes everything is 'historical' (although, in fairness, do students of geography think that fundamentally everything is geographical?) Xenophanes noted that the gingers of his time worshipped ginger gods, the dark-haired worshipped dark-haired gods etc. and inferred that, if they could worship gods, animals would likewise each worship a god in their own likeness. Something similar seems to happen to students of specific subject-matters - that they reify their subject-matter into a something that expresses or reflects the deepest, philosophical truth. (Here a dose of a pluralist, interactionist 'metaphysics' like P's might help, as well as some having to work in disciplines with a very different intellectual basis). It may be speculated that the 'linguistic turn' in so-called analytical philosophy may not have been so sharp and readily made had philosophers been typically drawn from students of mathematics and physics, rather than 'Greats'/'Classics' (to which, for example, philosophy was long appended at Oxford) which centres intellectually on the close linguistic analysis of texts for their variant meanings. Almost certainly the putting on a pedestal of 'Classics' led to the debacle of Oxford at first putting its people with a First in Greats [regarded then as its greatest minds] on the task of breaking the Nazi communication codes (disaster was averted by Churchill who saw through the charade, not having had the benefit of a university education to blind him). >Ezra Pound wrote 'Music begins to atrophy when it departs too far from the dance. Poetry begins to atrophy when it gets too far from music.'—Ezra Pound, > This is a very different order of thought to the somewhat bare assertion of Derrida. But how true is it? (How far is "too far"?) If we look for counter-examples, we might take J.S. Bach whose great music contains examples that are clearly modelled on dances and others that are not. Can we rebuff the ones that are not modelled on dances as counter-examples by insisting that nevertheless they do not depart "too far from the dance"? But this surely just atrophies "dance" as any kind of explanation for the strength of music. The Art of Fugue is a masterpiece of music, and no way atrophied, but surely it is also as far from "the dance" as we might imagine music can be? In fact, The Art of Fugue has probably more aesthetically to do with mathematics and structural symmetries/assymetries than with dance; and we might ask whether Pounds first point is any more true than saying music begins to atrophy when it departs too far from mathematics or some sense of structure. The link between poetry and music seems stronger than between music and dance (to me anyway): whereas facilitating and reflecting "dance" is only one function of music (aside from "dance" itself notoriously facilitating and reflecting copulation), poetic language does typically have some kind of musicality and this often seems vital to its poetic strength. Nevertheless, closer examination might bring out that the 'musicality' of poetic expression is of quite a limited or distinct kind compared with the musicality of music, and may even have a distinct cognitive and aesthetic basis. So, while interesting, Pound's observation raises a host of further questions and, from a theoretican's POV, invites some kind of explanation for the linkages made. This is what is importantly missing from these kinds of bare assertion. Donal Who highly recommends the Koroliov [piano] and the Emerson String Quartet versions of The Art of Fugue (the much lauded Moroney version on harpsichord makes the music sound like a something coming from the loud-speaker of a creepy ice-cream van that is not selling ice-cream but heroin; but then harpsichords tend to have that affect). England It is "affect", isn't it?