Fatal Choice by Timmerman John;

Author:Timmerman, John; [Timmerman, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781630877354
Publisher: Wipf and Stock Publishers
Published: 2015-01-13T08:00:00+00:00

30. When editing these papers, I discussed this very point with the narrator. In his estimation, many fine studies of beauty in art exist, going back, perhaps, to the ancients. But he also mentioned two works that he had found helpful in understanding beauty and ugliness. These are James Luther Adams and Wilson Yates, The Grotesque in Art and Literature, and John H. Timmerman, “The Ugly in Art.”

chapter ten

The Choice of the Prodigal

I expected Bosch to set out on a discourse on his named topics. Instead he sat quietly, stroking his chin and staring into the infinite dark. I followed his gaze, seeing nothing I didn’t expect from earlier experience, although I sincerely hoped no demon would tackle our fish boat. Low in the distance—I had no concept of up or down—a streak of occluded, deep incarnadine hung like a constellation.

It was very much like looking at a belt of stars on a pitch black night, when camped in some desolate area, perhaps. But here the stars were the color of thick, gelatinous blood.

This is what Bosch had been staring at. He reflected a moment longer, then heaved a sigh. “It might be helpful to our cause—”

“Forgive me,” I interrupted. “But I’m still not sure what our cause is. I mean . . . you offered your tour, as you called it, and I chose to take it, but what is the purpose?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. My assignment is only to satisfy curiosity. You realize, don’t you, that you will never be able to carry a report? People will say you’re crazy. Perhaps they will administer drugs and, in time, pronounce you ‘cured.’ And at that time, you will have learned to disbelieve the event itself.”

“Perhaps I disbelieve it even now.”

“Like a dream, you mean? Yes, that would be safe, wouldn’t it? Why don’t we think about it like this, for even this may be done in dreams: perhaps we should think of this voyage of ours as a quest. Not an adventure, certainly. That is the true opiate of the modern masses. For an adventure may be undertaken for any number of reasons—entertainment, diversion, excitement. A quest, on the other hand, is always toward something. Even if one is not entirely certain what that something is at the outset, there is a compelling need to search it out. Perhaps there is no Holy Grail in the Chapel Perilous after all, but the knowledge of that is as important as actually holding the Grail in one’s hands. So, you see, let’s think that we are on a quest.”

“Okay,” I said. I nodded, not entirely sure that I followed him.

“But,” he added, “we have already come to understand this much. An adventure can also be easily changed. What are these things you young people go to called? These horrible things with cars that go on tracks up into the air?”

“Amusement parks. I agree. They’re horrible.”

“Yes. And the site of many an adventure. But suppose you arrive and a thunderstorm breaks out.

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