That which is not slightly distorted lacks sensible appeal; from which it follows that irregularity β that is to say, the unexpected, surprise and astonishment, are a essential part and characteristic of beauty.
Charles BaudelaireRead
I consider it useless and tedious to represent what exists, because nothing that exists satisfies me. Nature is ugly, and I prefer the monsters of my fancy to what is positively trivial.
Interpretation
The quote expresses a dissatisfaction with reality and a preference for imaginative creations over mundane existence.
In this quote, Charles Baudelaire reflects a deep discontent with the world as it is, deeming nature and reality as unappealing. He argues that rather than capturing the ordinary or banal aspects of reality, he finds more value and beauty in the creations of his imagination, which may be fantastical and monstrous but are far more engaging and significant than the trivialities of everyday life.
In practice
In a discussion about surrealism, one might use this quote to highlight the value of imagination in art.
That which is not slightly distorted lacks sensible appeal; from which it follows that irregularity β that is to say, the unexpected, surprise and astonishment, are a essential part and characteristic of beauty.
The dance can reveal everything mysterious that is hidden in music, and it has the additional merit of being human and palpable. Dancing is poetry with arms and legs.
Who among us has not dreamt, in moments of ambition, of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical without rhythm and rhyme, supple and staccato enough to adapt to the lyrical stirrings of the soul, the undulations of dreams, and sudden leaps of consciousness.
There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for.
The priest is an immense being because he makes the crowd believe astonishing things.
Poetry and progress are like two ambitious men who hate one another with an instinctive hatred, and when they meet upon the same road, one of them has to give place.
Music straightjackets a poem and prevents it from breathing on its own, whereas it liberates a lyric. Poetry doesn't need music; lyrics do.
What I am after, above all, is expression.
For such is the fate of parody: it must never fear exaggerating. If it strikes home, it will only prefigure something that others will then do without a smile--and without a blush--in steadfast virile seriousness.
If we doubt the power of literature and art to civilise, how come no one has ever been mugged by a person carrying a well-thumbed copy of 'Middlemarch' in his back pocket?
If a man comes to the door of poetry untouched by the madness of the Muses, believing that technique alone will make him a good poet, he and his sane compositions never reach perfection, but are utterly eclipsed by the performances of the inspired madman.
The urge to make art or contemplate philosophy does not go away when you are sick. Those urges just become transfigured by illness.
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