Watch Those Superlatives, Sparky...
I’ve been noticing a trend lately in various forms of media. Random articles, reviews and news reports have been making claims that certain albums, films, books, bands and so on are the best albums, films, books, bands and so on EVER.
Really? The best EVER, in all of human history?
That’s like saying broiled sea bass is the pinnacle of the culinary achievement, or that blondes are the most aesthetically-pleasing people on the planet—nothing and no one else need apply.
Every single thing created by human minds and hands has distinct traits. And for each work in any given genre, there are varying characteristics marking that particular work as its own. Each creation has its own color, shape, tone, motifs—its own fingerprint. Naturally, some things are more technically-perfected, and some less so. Some people behind the pieces are more talented or have had more experience than others, and bring substantially more to the table. Some foods have more appealing flavors, some people have prettier eyes and more sculpted bodies. But does that mean all else should be regarded as inferior?
For every Beatles, who blended profound lyrics with contagious rhythms and stunning melodies, there is a Rolling Stones, who released more bluesy, harder-rocking, street-smart songs. There’s Mozart, a rogue so gifted that he imbued his compositions with his impishness, challenging the highbrows to regard music with delight instead of somberness. Beethoven had more gravity to his work, more sweeping drama. Some writers are sparse, economical with their words, à lá Hemingway. Others, like Kurt Vonnegut and Tom Robbins, paint their sentences with lacy gingerbread. There are artists, like John Singer Sargent, who paint portraits that live and breathe, and ones who simply paint fields of solid color, like Mark Rothko.
For each artists’ choice of traits that they want to delve into, that mark their works, there are equal-and-opposite traits that mark other artists’ works. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and there are numberless eyes down through time, then the claims of any one being the best anything is...too simple. Too exclusionary. Every judgment, every opinion is simply a matter of one’s own taste, or the tastes of many, but not of all. There isn’t an impartial ruler to measure with. High quality, absolutely.
But the best ever done...
Let the immortals be the arbiters of that.
Really? The best EVER, in all of human history?
That’s like saying broiled sea bass is the pinnacle of the culinary achievement, or that blondes are the most aesthetically-pleasing people on the planet—nothing and no one else need apply.
Every single thing created by human minds and hands has distinct traits. And for each work in any given genre, there are varying characteristics marking that particular work as its own. Each creation has its own color, shape, tone, motifs—its own fingerprint. Naturally, some things are more technically-perfected, and some less so. Some people behind the pieces are more talented or have had more experience than others, and bring substantially more to the table. Some foods have more appealing flavors, some people have prettier eyes and more sculpted bodies. But does that mean all else should be regarded as inferior?
For every Beatles, who blended profound lyrics with contagious rhythms and stunning melodies, there is a Rolling Stones, who released more bluesy, harder-rocking, street-smart songs. There’s Mozart, a rogue so gifted that he imbued his compositions with his impishness, challenging the highbrows to regard music with delight instead of somberness. Beethoven had more gravity to his work, more sweeping drama. Some writers are sparse, economical with their words, à lá Hemingway. Others, like Kurt Vonnegut and Tom Robbins, paint their sentences with lacy gingerbread. There are artists, like John Singer Sargent, who paint portraits that live and breathe, and ones who simply paint fields of solid color, like Mark Rothko.
For each artists’ choice of traits that they want to delve into, that mark their works, there are equal-and-opposite traits that mark other artists’ works. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and there are numberless eyes down through time, then the claims of any one being the best anything is...too simple. Too exclusionary. Every judgment, every opinion is simply a matter of one’s own taste, or the tastes of many, but not of all. There isn’t an impartial ruler to measure with. High quality, absolutely.
But the best ever done...
Let the immortals be the arbiters of that.
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