week four...

Aug 13, 2006 23:18

we discussed in class this week how Blake tuned his craft into a metaphor for what he was pursuing in his life. Blake used the Infernal method, which consisted of using corrosives to shape his work- these melted the surface of his plates away, leaving his images a nd words raised. in all Blake saw this action as a profound metaphor for what he was using his art work for- to reveal the infinite, the hidden. he corroded away the negative and left the meaningful, positive space exposed. this was like an action stripping away the layers, throwing open the doors of perception to a vision of clarity and enables us to see a new dimension, reversing the usual methods, and, furthermore the usual perception and ideology- Blake, unlike many others was able to see the extroardinary in the ordinary, as Michael informed us this is the Incogntio of revelation- being able to find something from nothing, to see the hidden (funny that, cos King Lear was adamant that 'nothing would come of nothing'- what does this say about the kind of thinker HE was). only with an openness can we strip off layers of perceived notion and be met with a raw, tender, shiny new skin of truth.

"the website that i hyperlinked above has some really interesting insights into the way this method provided Blake with a sense of unity within himself and his art- the word and image, and how this relates to Blakes views in The marriage of heaven and hell in that :

"This method is the means of revealing the essential marriage of body and soul within man, it relies on "melting apparent surfaces away, and displaying the infinite which was hid, just as the process of infernal printing does...The "apparent surfaces" of separateness preached by heaven must be corroded by acids "which in Hell are salutary and medicinal" though percieved as "infernal" by angels, much as the vision of hell alters depending on the viewer"

again im reminded of the actual act of creation, like that in the Tyger, these lines in particular describe this process of  creation...

"And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp? "

mood:
 weird

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