Marty and the Art World

It is said that art is to the artist, by which is meant that art is whatever the artist says it is. I disagree.

I have a very simple yet realistic definition of what makes something art: if I can do it, it ain't art. I'll give you an example: Orange Brown . I can do that. Therefore, it's not art. Yet it actually belongs to the Detroit Institute of Arts, potentially (I haven't looked it up) on the taxpayer's dime.

What is art, then? The Mona Lisa. The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Stuart's portrait of Washington which is replicated on the dollar bill. Things like that. Fuzzy orange brown squares and rectangles? I'm going to argue no.

In short, art isn't necessarily what the self proclaimed artist or supposed art experts say it is. The kind of standard applies across the board too. If you think Zinn's Bad History is good history simply because Howard Zinn purports to be an historian, then you ought to rethink the subject. You should certainly rethink Zinn.

Art is what art is, according to rational standards of beauty, talent, and whatever other reasonable standards apply to analyzing art, exactly as history is what it is according to rational standards of history no matter what any given person, even an historian, might say it is. Look beyond the experts, question them, challenge them. If they can't give you good answers, doubt them. Never let them rest on their own word.

Sex

There. That got your attention, I bet. But worry not. I'll quickly enough make the subject dull for you.

I read a lot, a fact I believe I've made well known in recent years. A goodly amount of my reading includes biographies. And if one theme can be detected which runs through many of the life stories I've read, one which appears to be important only with more contemporary writers, is that at some point the author must, simply must, it appears, address the sex life of his subject.

Babe Ruth might have a been a hero to the kids but had his way with the ladies too. Harry and Bess Truman, so I read, had to have the slats in their bed at Blair House (where they lived while the White House underwent extensive renovations) replaced after a marital tryst. George Washington, a biographer assures me, made it a point to secure an extraordinary amount of Spanish Fly immediately before his wedding to Martha. Why do we need to know these things?

Any rational adult must realize that Harry and Bess, George and Martha, as duly wedded couples, did it. Where's it our right to know anything more than that? With the Bambino, I have to believe that tales of his seductions nothing less than attempts to knock him off his pedestal. None of it, from any of them, merit our knowledge or consideration. 

For the sake of truth, perhaps? But on what grounds are we entitled to know the whole truth about these or other historical figures? Other than where public wrongdoing is at issue, such personal things are nobody's business. The bulk of us aren't either prudes nor stupid. We don't need the details. They certainly don't really enlighten us in any useful manner.

When I read about the exploits of General Washington I do not have to know about the personal ones. Neither do you. If that's what it takes to get people interested in history, I think we need to change their attitudes towards the subject rather than cater to their sophomoric whims.

The Marty Standard of History Explained

Yesterday I spoke, with an eye towards wry humor, about my idea of what defines history. If you missed it, here it is: The Marty Standard History, I believe, doesn't really begin until fifty years have passed, if not one hundred. Why? We are to close to the people and events to judge them objectively. Our prejudices generally get in the way.

Today I want to explain what I mean with an example. Indeed this example may be what drew me to my conclusion.

Way back when, not quite in history as it was only about 40 years ago (ha ha), I had to do a college report on the life of John Adams, Revolutionary War leader and our second President. It was the first term paper I really went whole hog on, determined to make a good presentation. As such, I decided to see what history said concerning his life.

The oldest book I found in the library at the University of Detroit was published in 1801, the very year the Adams Presidency ended. The tome was so old I handled it very carefully, being intimidated by its age. I still can't believe it was still out on the shelves in 1982; I would have expected it to be archived by then, available only by special request. Anyway, it claimed that John Adams was just about the most useless disgrace of a President and human being we ever had. Wow. Reports of the same era were similarly antagonistic. Or, at best, dismissive.

But as I studied I noticed an odd thing. By 1900 or so books and articles were appearing which kind of grudgingly allowed that maybe old John Adams wasn't all that bad. He maybe, perhaps, sort of had done some okay things. Move forward to the 1960s and historians were much more considerate in analyzing his life and times. By 1975 he was the star character of a musical about American Independence. Extending into modern times we find David McCullough's positively glowing account of Mr. Adams, published in 2001, interestingly coming 200 years after the damning book which came on the heels of his time in office. Adams' Presidency is currently rated 15th or so among our Chief Executives. Out of 46, that's not bad. 

So, did John Adams change? Did the circumstances of Revolutionary and early United States history change? Or does the ebb and flow of time simply make it easier to look at something dispassionately? 

I believe the latter. As Adams moved from the real life figure to the historical personage, as people lost their direct emotional prejudices against him, they could see the real man more clearly.

So history doesn't really begin until well after events have taken place. At least, that's the Marty Standard of history. But I am open to suggestion and modification.

Actual History

At one point I watched the History Channel with regularity, and even anticipation, because, well, history, and I like history. Even when it was ridiculed as The Hitler Channel, because the only history it seemed to care about was World War II, I still watched. World War II was compelling, wasnt' it?

Then came Oak Island and Ancient Aliens.

I ain't saying those are bad shows on the level of mere entertainment. But do they qualify as history? Not in my mind anyway. So I basically quit watching.

But this past weekend I caught a short series which they offered on Ulysses Grant. It wove reenactments in with historical commentary. And I thought it was entertaining and informative, exactly like history should be. Then they offered a similar treatment of Abraham Lincoln, during which were ads about an upcoming look at Theodore Roosevelt which appears interesting.

The old Rough Rider notwithstanding (my opinion of TR is ambivalent; I think he was too self important, quite honestly) I'm impressed to see the History Channel getting back to actual history and not speculative infotainment (ancient aliens? Come on) and might actually put it back in my TV viewing circle.

History Repeats

Sometimes, in putting these little bits of wit and revelry to, well, not to paper anymore, yet putting it out into the ether just doesn't strike a chord with me, I come across an instance of the old writer's block. I have no idea what to say. When that happens I get cutesy. Sometimes I pull up a webpage and offer a This Day In History column. Sometimes I simply reprint an old missive or reword an old story. I'm sure you folks have noticed that.

Today I thought I would try something different. I though to meself, Self, why don't you look back to exactly one year ago, to November 24, 2020, and republish that. Do it just for kicks: hey y'all, look what I writed on this day last year. So I scrolled back through my records, and, well whaddaya know?

I didn't write anything new last November 24. My entries leapt from November 23 to November 25. 

It's true. History repeats itself. Sort of, in this case.