Ouphilpo

My primary point of contention was the claim that the observer of a mimesis has less agency or control of when to lose oneself in a mimesis—the middle ground between Plato and Aristotle. Plato’s interpretation of mimesis appears to remain within a fated situation of immersion in a piece of art, devoid of all choice or historical actions and preferences of the individual observers, where the audience invariably walks away believing they have witnessed truth or reality. Some people are drawn to certain colors, shapes, or forms, making them more or less likely to become immersed—it is not only the mimesis itself, but the preferences of the observer. One is very unlikely to fall in the trap of synthesis of the real and the imaginary if the work itself deters the observer. From this, Aristotle offers a hopeful and existential situation or choice for the observer, where one can choose to indulge and find pleasure, or repel and see it as merely a nonsensical symbol or a misrepresentation of an idea form or some thing. Aristotle recognizes how one can become immersed in a work (or not), thus defending mimesis and art from the harmful accusations of Plato.
My understanding of this notion of immersion is an involuntary one. I agree with Plato—one should not mix the fantasy and the real, whether it is comedy or tragedy. I also agree with Aristotle—it is not the fault of the mimesis it self, but the observer that this synthesis occurs. However, since one’s preferences and opinions determine whether or not one will immerse in a work, and these preferences are present either through societal influences or genetics, one is not entirely responsible for one’s own immersion. I see this much in the way an educated reader would interpret a sentence in one’s primary language—with some cognitive effort, but more or less a fluid motion, a fluid immersion in the language, left free to roam the symbolic abyss of interpretation. On the other hand, if one is to read a sentence in a secondary language, one generally tends to interpret the sentence slower, taking grammar and technicalities into account, rather than the symbolism before them. It would be a safe assumption that most would prefer to communicate in their primary language—English instead of French, personally. The fact that I am able to seamlessly read a sentence (view a mimesis) and either picture a scene or investigate an argument in English, whereas I would struggle (and remain separate from the text’s symbolism or meaning) in French has little to do with my own personal agency. I was raised with English as my primary framework of reading and understanding, and thus my interpretations and preferences are bound to this framework which I had no choice in. Thus, my interpretations and preferences are no choice or rejection of mine.
Aristotle’s claim that mimesis is agreeable insofar as one does not confuse it with the formal ideal is helpful, but even Socrates can not help but get lost in the words of Homer. However, if one either does not understand (the play is spoken in French) or if one does not even view (horror movies bore me), then one will not have this synthesis of the real and the fantasy. We float through situations in time and space, and based on our modes of judgment we act or do not. These impulses come largely from one’s society, which one does not have direct control of. Thus, the situations we find ourselves in are more or less unmediated by our self. We can choose to go or stay, to cover our eyes or put glasses on—but we can not stop the interpretation (or failure of interpretation) from occurring. Because we either get it or we do not we force a meaning on what we view—mimesis or otherwise. It is this forced, anticipated meaning that lie between Aristotle and Plato. They both assume there is something worth interpreting, simply because it is, and we are unable to control whether or not to interpret. Take away the meaning behind mimesis and Plato has no fear of the observer confusing the real and the imaginary (for the imaginary becomes meaningless and just that—imaginary), and Aristotle’s concern becomes the observer’s choice between the real and the meaningless—a seemingly obvious choice for a rational being. It is this forced anticipation of meaning behind art or mimesis that inhibits art from simply existing. Obligations of meaning or something to interpret lie at the root of both Aristotle and Plato’s problem. Without obliging meaning to attach to mimesis, one could view the work as a work and not as a symbol—providing both Plato and Aristotle of their wishes of separation between real and imaginary. The nihilist on my shoulder begs the next question: What, then, differentiates the real from the meaningless?