standing by words
commentary by fred clark
published 15 march 2007
 
thus spake fred | volume 6 number 8
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"Often it does seem a pity that Noah and his party did not miss the boat."
-Mark Twain
 
published since August 2004 | Thus Spake Fred is comprised of syndicated articles that have emerged from the brilliant and witty mind of 'slacktivist' Fred Clark. His dead-on, deadpan analyses will come to feel as necessary as your day's first cup of organically grown Free Trade coffee.
 
 
Fred Clark (eMailblog) is an actor and a copy editor for a Wilmington, Delaware newspaper. He lives in Media, Pennsylvania.
 
"Indeed, there is no one I know who can sort through complex and often obtuse ideas and then explain them...to an audience in such a way that makes those ideas as plain as day—fairly and without distortion—all while making whatever point he wants to make. He is also dreadfully, painfully, surgically funny. And, better still, he is a man of conviction [and] grace." -Dwight Ozard on Fred
 
 
Wilhelm Leibl (1844-1900) was a German realist painter of portraits and scenes of observed life.
 
Leibl was born in Cologne and, in 1861, began his first training with Hermann Becker, a local painter. He entered the Munich Academy in 1864, subsequently studying with several artists, including Carl Theodor von Piloty. He set up a group studio, in 1869, with Johann Sperl, Theodor Alt, and Rudolf Hirth du Frênes. At about the same time, Gustave Courbet visited Munich to exhibit his work, making a considerable impression on many of the local artists by his demonstrations of alla prima painting directly from nature. Leibl's paintings, which already reflected his admiration for the Dutch old masters, became looser in style, their subjects rendered with thickly brushed paint against dark backgrounds. Later in 1869, Leibl went to Paris for a nine month stay during which he met Édouard Manet.
 
Upon his return to Germany, Leibl lived in Munich until 1873, when he moved to the isolated Bavarian countryside. Living among peasants, he depicted his neighbors in everyday scenes devoid of sentimentality or anecdote. The sketchlike quality of his painting was replaced by greater precision and attention to drawing. Living from 1878 to 1882 in Berbling, he painted perhaps his best-known work, "Three Women in Church" (Kunsthalle, Hamburg). Its intensely realistic style recalls Hans Holbein in its clarity of definition. During the following years, he moved to the town of Aibling and, in 1892, to Kutterling, as his paintings united the disciplined drawing he had adopted in the 1880s with a new delicacy and luminosity.
 
Leibl painted with no preliminary drawing, setting to work directly with color, an approach that has parallels to Impressionism. His commitment to the representation of reality as the eye sees it earned him recognition in his lifetime as the preeminent artist of a group which included Carl Schuch, Wilhelm Trübner, and Hans Thoma, whose works are described as being of the Leibl-Circle.
 
He executed a small number of etchings in a meticulous style. His charcoal drawings are conceived in great masses of light and shadow, blocked in as though he were using a brush and paint. Leibl continued painting until his death, in Würzburg, in 1900. -Wikipedia
 
 
 

 
 
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"Words ought to be a little wild, for they are the assault of thoughts on the unthinking."
 
"Giles, no one's using 'I' statements!"
Peasants in Conversation
by Wilhelm Leibl

Bring up the subject of civility and you'll, inevitably, wind up in a sideshow having little to do with the subject.


Civility doesn't mean never having to say you're sorry. It doesn't mean baby-proofing all conversation to ensure its inoffensiveness for the most delicate of sensibilities. Nor does it mean couching all claims as tepid statements of personal preference that cannot be refuted, or defended, or cared about one way or the other by much of anyone, since they don't actually claim to say anything about the actual world.


Rudeness is, of course, rude. As such, it can distract from—and, therefore, undermine—whatever point you're trying to make. Impoliteness can be impolitic. But, sometimes, it's called for—sometimes it's just the thing to jar your listeners into considering that which they were previously unable to consider. And sometimes it's funny (and, therefore, beautiful; and, therefore, true and good). All of which could be a fascinating subject for discussion, polite or impolite, but none of which is what civility's really all about.


Civility has to do with citizenship, which is to say it has to do with responsibility. To speak as civilized people, as citizens, requires that we be responsible—to one another and to the truth (and the good, and the beautiful). It requires that we be responsible for our words, that we be willing to stand by them.


This is why I'm impatient with the whole ''I' statements' approach. It has its place, I suppose, in family therapy and the like, but it undermines responsibility. It aims to force us to phrase statements in a way that cannot provoke offense, but it winds up also forcing us to phrase statements in a way that makes their content irrelevant.


Thus, in the name of 'civility', I've been told that I shouldn't say, "FEMA's response to the flooding of New Orleans was a national disgrace." Instead, I should say, "I think FEMA's response..." or "FEMA's response made me feel..." And, suddenly, we're not talking about FEMA anymore, but about me. An objective declaration is reduced to a subjective preference and, thus, I'm relieved of responsibility for the truth or falsehood of my claim.


This seems to me to be is a cowardly, irresponsible way to talk. It's, in other words, uncivil. Let me repeat this with a less significant example. "The Ramones rock!" is a statement—albeit an ambiguously defined one—about the world, about our shared reality. "I enjoy the music of The Ramones" is a statement about me. You can agree or disagree with the former, but not the latter, which is irrefutable but also—as far as the world and our shared reality goes—irrelevant.


To be civilized, to live together, we need to be able to talk about the world we share. We need to be able to discuss art, politics, religion, economics, science, and all the other vital components of our civilization—not just about our own feelings. This conversation doesn't always have to be nice, but it has to be honest. And it has to be responsible. That's what "civility" means.


I could be wrong, of course; but that's precisely the point. I've stated something that can be either right or wrong. It can be engaged, evaluated, debated—and thus, possibly, refuted. That's the nature of civil conversation.

 

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