Radiohead and Philosophy - Brandon W. Forbes [38]
Baby’s Got the Purgation
But all this only brings us back to a version of our original question: even if music is “naturally sweet”, why would anybody want to be so scared by music? Because it facilitates catharsis. Aristotle notes that some kinds of music induce an intense emotional reaction in the souls of certain people, which is then followed by calm. He compares it to a “medical treatment and a purifying purgation”—which is what ‘catharsis’ means. Music represents emotions and thereby stirs them up in the souls of the audience. This surge of emotion is then followed by a sense of relief. Thus we are purged, or cleansed, of the emotions. In this way, Aristotle says, “the purifying melodies provide a harmless enjoyment for people.”
In Radiohead the catharsis is often rooted in musical dynamics—the back and forth of dissonance and resolution, the progressive buildup of tension, the climax of energy and the resulting sense of release. Like story-telling or sex, the energy builds. The plot thickens. The temperature rises. And finally things reach the point where, looking back, we can say they were headed all along. Then there’s a breaking point, a pinnacle, a relaxation of tension and dispersal of energy. There is a trajectory to this that helps explain how catharsis works: we go “through” the emotions to the other side, experiencing them intensely in order to be released from them.
Sometimes the climax is an explosion, as in “The Bends” or “Climbing Up the Walls.” In other songs it is more like a slow burn and fade away. For example in “Videotape” there is no crowning burst of energy. Still, there’s a clear sense of rising energy as the piano repeats and percussive elements and droning background tones are introduced. And the song does realize a climax of sorts in its closing minute, though the feelings conveyed are more ache and longing, rather than fear or anger.
So we are a little closer to answering our puzzle: We are able to enjoy the “dark” emotions in Radiohead -rather than simply endure the—because we experience the emotions as part of a particular developmental process that allows us to be released from them in the experience of catharsis. However, in recognizing the importance of catharsis, it would be a mistake to suppose that what we are “going for” in listening to music is the calm that follows, as if the emotions were just a means to that end. Rather, what we enjoy is not just the calm at the end but the swell of emotion as well. In this respect, the “purging” we experience in listening to “Karma Police” is different from the relief we feel after vomiting. In that case, we have a good feeling once its over, but we hate the nauseous feeling that precedes it. Musical catharsis, on the other hand, is more like the catharsis of story-telling and sex—what precedes the climax and release catharsis is a “stirred up” state that is (somehow) enjoyable in its own right.
You Can’t Be Bulletproof
In Book 9 of the Poetics, Aristotle contrasts history and poetry (which for Aristotle includes tragic drama). History, he says, deals with “the particular”—with what actual, particular people did and said. Tragedy, on the other hand, deals with “the universal”—not with actual events, but with the kinds of things that people do and say in various circumstances. The situations and plot developments in tragedy may be outrageous, but the way in which the characters respond should not be implausible or unmotivated. They need not be factually true, but they should be “true to life.”
Because tragedy deals with the universal, Aristotle describes tragedy as more philosophical and more ethically serious than history. Because tragedy is “true to life,” it’s an occasion for reflection about general truths of the human condition. As classicist James Redfield puts it, “fiction presents an unreal world which is about the real world.”17 Thus in tragedy we can learn something, not about the facts of history but about the way things go in human life. In particular, tragedy reminds us that