Botticelli's artistic storytelling in "The Birth of Venus"

Botticelli’s artistic work in “Birth of Venus” tells a story, which can be critically analyzed without necessarily having any notion of contingent background information.

The easily identifiable ‘main character’ is the majesty of a goddess upon a very large seashell. Her ivory skin is flawless, her body is soft and brilliant. Her fiery hair is utilized in her attempt at coverage, which gives note to her natural purity and feminine modesty. Venus’ gaze does not appear to be focused or fixed on one entity. Rather, the warmth and depth of her eyes and face gives the sense that her gaze is all-encompassing and intrinsically passionate.

Venus approaches the shoreline, a boundary which prominently contrasts the features of land and of ocean to highlight the importance of the two settings and indicate that our goddess is in process of transitioning from one into the next. It does not seem such a common occurrence for a forest to lie two feet inland from a shoreline, but in depicting the land this way, Botticelli emphasizes difference between land and water.

The lines depicting water waves are also very indicative. They flow towards land and begin to break at the base of the seashell, informing us that Venus and her shell are washing into shore.

The arched body and visible stream of powerful air shooting from the mouth of one of the angelic beings towards Venus tell us that this has been her method of transportation. We see the wind from these angelic lungs affecting Venus’ hair, the dress of another woman on land who appears to be a goddess as well, and the robe that she will use to enfold the body of the exposed Venus.

Botticelli describes beautifully the transitional event of Venus blowing in from the mysterious sea into the covering of land. Much meaning can be acquired from only looking upon his painting. However, background insight may open a world of fuller understanding. For example, the ‘angelic being’ is actually Zephyr, the god of the west wind (makes sense). Zephyr gave the domain of the flowers to his sister Chloris, whom he also had abducted as a wife, which could possibly explain the pink floating flowers.

Foucault's reading of Las Meninas

To my own surprise, I really appreciated Foucault’s analysis of Las Meninas. I know little about art, about 17th century painting, or how to interpret it. Upon looking at this painting, I really only saw a room full of people, and had no idea how to see anything else or how there could be a possibility for me to confidently say what is really going on in the painting. Foucault’s reading of the painting definitely has me quite convinced, and much more comfortable and appreciative of the work.

A phrase used more than once by Foucault is ‘pure reciprocity’. I think that the discussion surrounding this phrase is intriguing. We contemplate the infinite relation of the painter and the spectator on page four. On page fourteen we consider the multi-functional mirror, which observes the scene that Diego is looking upon and is observed by us, the spectators, giving revelation to that which we would otherwise be left to speculate.

I enjoy how crucial ‘gaze’ is in Foucault’s reading of Las Meninas. His concept of gaze really aided my understanding and thought process. There are many characters with their own gaze. The first discussed is that of the represented Velazquez, which is described in deep detail. The visitor on the steps, Infanta Margarita, each of her entourage, even the mirror and its subjects all exude a gaze which can give the spectator direction and insight into that which first seemed invisible.

Foucault’s goes into great lengths discussing the surroundings of the painting, the front, back and sides of the room, and also that which is out of view. He spends much time on the large canvas, on the light that is flooding the room from the nearly invisible window, on the mirror on the back wall which so starkly shines out from the paintings that surround it, and on the open door and the figure and space which it reveals. I really found this focus interesting and useful. I would have never realized how useful paying such attention to the surrounding could be. Infanta Margarita is so bright and central to the painting; it was almost hard for me to see that anything else could compare to her figure in giving meaning to the painting.

One thing that did stir up some curiosity when I initially saw the painting was the dog. I found it peculiar and random, and was wondering about its purpose, although I felt unable and unequipped to begin speculation of what it might mean. Because of this curiosity, I was slightly disappointed at the only very brief mention of the animal on page fourteen. However, after dismissing my frustration at a lack of fuller discussion of the dog, I do find myself content and in agreement at Foucault’s brief explanation. It ties back into his important underlying notion of ‘gaze’. The dog does not offer us a gaze. The dog is not moving or looking at anything, so according to Foucault, it is only ‘an object to be seen’. I suppose one could argue against such a prominent and unique figure holding no real meaning in the painting, but I feel it fits well into Foucault’s very convincing reading of Las Meninas.

Joseph Carroll's version of Darwinian literary critique

I find Joseph Carroll’s model to be a dissatisfactory account of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice and I feel opposed to Darwinistic literary criticism. I am frustrated with this somewhat recent article in that Carroll seems to be saying “Hey, Darwinian literary criticism isn’t quite right, but I’m gonna’ make it right by saying that the human mind is unique and varies widely with culture, point of view, and individual biases.” To me, he is taking a system that he desperately wants to be correct - but sees that it is flawed and too structured and inflexible- and trying to correct it by laying on top of it the notion that it just cannot be inflexible. He wants to broaden the perspective but I really think that his propositions make Darwinism un-Darwinist. He’s proposing to adapt a system, but he needs to recognize that it is just his own separate system that satisfies his personal rationalizations.

On page 78 Carroll expresses ‘fair confidence’ that energetic active research in the near future will do away with the ‘obstructions that have temporarily arisen from the premature consolidation of certain orthodox doctrines’. This statement arouses much discontent in me. I think he is being roundabout and indirect. Such a prediction is arrogant, very weak, and I think farfetched. I don’t think he is wise to make a claim about not yet existent research to do away with long-standing ways of thinking. He is being cowardly non-confrontational yet very critical. He is backwards because he says orthodox doctrines have caused temporary obstructions, but I must assert that the Darwinist theories are much more premature, young, and temporary than the orthodox doctrines. He is very arrogant to think a theory 200 years of age will wipe out a system thousands of years of age.

He attempts to disarm any opponents by claiming that Darwinian analysis applies to EVERY work of literature no matter what. But the support he gives for this claim immediately reveals its fallacy. Carroll says, “If Darwinism gives a true account of the human mind….” I could continue this sentence but upon this conditional I am already decided. He gives an ‘if’ which already weakens his bold assertion about Darwinian analysis applying to all literature. His ‘if’ gives two options; either Darwinism gives a true account of the human mind, or it does not. Darwinism is theory and is therefore not truth, and therefore cannot give a true account of anything, let alone the intricacies of the human mind.

I really dislike how Carroll’s approach reduces Austen’s artistic work to a biological account of animals seeking after resourceful mating partners. He says on page 97 that “men seek to acquire resources and to use them to acquire mates, and women seek mates who are in possession of resources.” I disagree on many levels with this Darwinist view. I believe that love is the proponent of human life. Love is not even really addressed in this animalistic account. I do not believe in animal-human equality and therefore cannot adapt to many of the claims Carroll makes. I do give Carroll credit for attempting to broaden the view with statements of the complexity, unpredictability, and exceptions of the human mind and I do find some of his analysis of the novel to be interesting and accurate, but again, I feel that by trying to change Darwinian critique to be more flexible, he is weakening Darwinism with his own preferences.


(I apologize for the lengthiness of this blog entry).

9/8, Austen & Durant

The character of Mr. Collins in Pride & Prejudice has surprisingly significance in the story. His character serves not only as great entertainment for the reader, but for purposes of solidifying the characteristics of the plot, of societal conformity at the time, and also for building up and further expressing the characters of other individuals in the book. Austen makes a spectacle of Mr. Collins, and provides some humor for the reader in the awkwardness of his presence.

Mr. Collins’ audacity in Chapter XX to still ignorantly believe that Elizabeth’s repeatedly straightforward refusal of his long winded proposal was actually due to her "bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character" stirs about much frustration in my modern mind. The inability of Mr. Collins to realize that a young woman could have the independence to outright refuse a marriage proposal beneficial to the family represents the general view of society towards such matters. Also the fact that Elizabeth’s intimate friend Charlotte marries Mr. Collins emphasizes the uniqueness of Elizabeth’s character. She was set in her romantic ideals of marriage, and was unwilling to stray from these standards in order to conform to society.



Durant’s preface and introduction to his book The Story of Philosophy professes the necessity of understanding and studying philosophy. In my opinion, Durant views philosophy as vital for the gaining of wisdom and for understanding the meaning and worth of the things we human beings do in our lifetimes. He is very eloquent in convincing us that science does not produce wisdom. Science produces knowledge, but this stand-alone knowledge is useless and incomplete if it cannot be related holistically to purpose and seeking truth. I particularly enjoy his claim that ‘Every science begins as philosophy and ends as art; it arises in hypothesis and flows into achievement.’ He wants the world to know that science and philosophy are not two separate entities forever at war, but that they are interrelated, that one springs up from the other, and that the flow of wisdom and knowledge through the rivers of thought is not separated or distinct. The massive flows of scientific pursuit cannot exist without the numerous streams trickling the beginnings of philosophical thinking.