is it possible for a man to have a beatific obsession in the age of pornography? can a man have a muse that he willingly does not want to touch, that he dare not break the spell with, that he does not want to “break a piece off with?” tricky tricky stuff in the age of pornography. the myth of romantic love that was born in europe less than 600 years ago has given way in the modern western world to a fabrication of desire that is, quite actually, built upon a deep foundation of artifice. i’ll use pornography here not in it’s literal sense, but as an avatar for a type of longing, passion, or possession based primarily on primal feeling vs. even the vaguest spiritual impulse.
dante did not perceive of beatrice as a sexual object, but as a sort of deity to be admired, a perfect representation of piety, grace, and strength. i know this representation itself may raise the ire of many, because it is of course, a type of objectification in and of itself…but how does this compare with the siliconed, bleached anorexically informed vision of beauty, desirability and “love” that is crammed down our throats with regularity?
this is the very beginning of a question, and i’ll continue to pursue some answers in this space.