Beauty is the Blighted
I am looking at a number line. I trace my path to the right, passing by negative numbers until I finally arrive at zero. I continue my path right-wards, passing, over five, then ten, then twenty, spanning onto numbers greater than the human mind can fathom. Nonetheless, those mathematical monstrosities, however grand, exist on exactly the same line as that negative nine with which I began.
Likewise, beauty and imperfection exist along a single plane, one uniform philosophical number line. When an object agrees with a person’s concept of perfection, then he or she deems it “beautiful”; when it differs, he or she calls it “ugly.” These two extremes create a spectrum upon which humanity acts out its grand melodrama. Without one or the other, we would dwell in a monochromatic wasteland. Without the contrast allowed by varying degrees of imperfection, beauty would never advance beyond that monotony; only degrees of quality can create the chiaroscuro needed for beauty.
This concept may clash rather harshly with some preconceived notions, however. Recent philosophies emphasizing relativism claim that, since each individual finds beauty differently, one cannot make unilateral statements regarding its quintessence. But, although opinions may differ, they come from the same mental avenues; in order to assign one object value, one must place other values in lesser esteem.
Nature and the aesthetics therein illustrate this point consummately. When one glances at a limpid lake, freshly fallen snow, or an ancient forest, he or she usually finds the purity beautiful. But how do we define purity, if not by corruption’s absence? Through definition by negation, one can succinctly arrive at the matter’s heart. People find something beautiful when it lacks corruption. Therefore, one’s knowledge of imperfection shapes his or her perception of beauty. Even though beauty itself may lack impurities of any sort, one needs a working knowledge of them to construct an opinion regarding beauty’s nature.
Nothing contributes to a database of imperfections like crime. By destroying a society’s order, crime illustrates the order inherent in beauty. Every time a boy loses his father to an alcohol-induced car crash or a local miscreant vandalizes the side of a house, the affected parties understanding of beauty deepens. When one sees the imperfect, the “evil” end of beauty’s spectrum, he or she can grasp beauty on a more fundamental level; with more information, one can arrive at a more informed conclusion.
So how do we define beauty? By euphoria and optimism, or by cruelty and wanton despoilment? Truthfully, one needs only the latter; then, when a moment more akin to the former comes along, he or she can notice the difference and deem it beautiful. Life’s harsher realities create the lattice on which its pleasanter realities may flourish. Crime, death, and despoilment may not exactly inspire memories of delightful occasions, but they loan the delightful occasions which we can recall a sense of separation, a mental barrier between happiness and pain.
Just as an architect who designs the grandest skyscrapers and most elegant bridges must appreciate the lowly iron and concrete that hold his elaborate creations together, so must humanity appreciate the simple, often inconvenient imperfections that allow beauty to remain diverse and unique. When we finally acknowledge our inability to experience joy without first knowing pain, then we can begin to live without fear of our unwitting benefactors.
