Call it the result of my literary studies; call it my newfound passion for the gin and tonic; call it what you will, but this man, Benedetto Croce, is slowly but surely moving his way into my own private pantheon of heroes.I'm reading his Breviario di Aesthetico. The power of "the image", a power whose fascination I've felt since early youth, is articulating itself more clearly in my thought.
Walter Pater might be proud.
Burn with a gemlike flame.
Burn.
6 comments:
Somehow the name "Croce" bothers me. Perhaps it's the resemblance to the word "crocadile." Perhaps it's the fact that it reminds one of "crock" and "Circe" simultaneously. Perhaps it's because it's after midnight and thanks to long and relatively fruitless work on a certain unnamed essay, my brain is no longer functioning.
...and it's scarcely fair to mention something so intellectually tantalizing as "the power of 'the image'" and then proceed to slip away with a few poetic ambiguities which mean little to this reader and don't at all explain what the power of the image means.
am I making sense? ...probably not. Back to the Aeneid I go. Merrily.
Croce is Italian for "Cross." Il Croce bothers you, huh?
The power of the image is well illustrated by the Minotaur. The minotaur does not "equal" some idea in a strict algebraic equivalence. To speak of the power of the image requires a poetic use of language: the image "evokes", "conjures up", and so forth. That's only because there is no substitute for an image, no word can equal its power.
Unless, that is, there is a word that is also an image...
I didn't say the idea of "croce" bothers me. Just word by which the idea is expressed.
Ahhh, the Minaotaur. I understand now. ^_^
I didn't say the idea of "croce" bothers me. Just word by which the idea is expressed.
Ahhh, the Minaotaur. I understand now. ^_^
I agree, the whole "Croce" thing bugs me too!
A duty aid at my old elementary school was named Croce Scibetta. Kids called him Mr. Spaghetti-etti-o's to disgruntle him.
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