Robert Stecker

_A COMPANION TO AESTHETICS_ This second edition of _A Companion to Aesthetics_ examines questions that were among the earliest discussed by ancient philosophers, such as the nature of beauty and the relation between morality and art, while also addressing a host of new issues prompted by recent developments in the arts and in philosophy, including coverage of non-Western art traditions and of everyday and environmental aesthetics. The volume also canvases debates regarding the nature of representation, the relation between art and truth, and the criteria for interpretation, which are among the most hotly discussed topics in contemporary philosophy. In this extensively revised and updated edition, 168 alphabetically arranged articles provide comprehensive treatment of the main topics and writers in aesthetics. Major additions include historical overviews from the prehistoric to the present and a section on the individual arts. _A Companion to Aesthetics_ will serve students of philosophy, literary criticism, and cultural studies - as well as the educated general reader - both as a work of reference and, with its many substantial essays, as a guide to the best thinking about the arts from the ancient Greeks to the dawn of the twenty-first century.

In this paper, I ask: what is the role of function in appreciating artifacts? I will argue that several distinguishable functions are relevant to the aesthetic appreciation of artifacts, and sometimes more than one of these must be taken into account to adequately appreciate these objects. Second, I will claim that, while we can identify something we might call functional aesthetic value or functional beauty, the aesthetic properties that contribute to this value neither need to enhance the object’s performance of its primary function nor manifest that function. There are broader criteria for what properties are relevant to functional beauty. Finally, I suggest that the aesthetic appreciation of artifacts may contribute to a larger appreciative project: the understanding and evaluation of a way of life, or social or cultural practices in which the artifact plays a role.

In a recent essay, Jerrold Levinson defends his version of hypothetical intentionalism, which is a theory of literary interpretation, from two criticisms. The first, argued by Stephen Davies, is that it is equivalent to the value-maximizing view. The second, argued by Robert Stecker, is that there are straightforward counterexamples to HI. We will argue that Levinson does not successfully fend off either criticism, and further, that in the process of attempting to do so, creates another dilemma for his view.

In many artworks, both aesthetic and ethical values are present, and both can contribute to the overall artistic value of a work. The question explored in this paper is: does the presence of one kind of value affect the degree of the other? For example, does a work that expresses a morally reprehensible attitude diminish the aesthetic value of a work? Let ‘interaction’ name the view that the presence of one kind of value affects the degree of the other. We will argue in favour of the existence of interaction. However, we will argue further that such interaction is a contingent feature of artworks and that the most common argument that has been offered for interaction—the affective -response -argument—fails to identify the main reason why it holds, when it in fact does

The paradox of fiction presents an inconsistent triad of propositions, all of which are purported to be plausible or difficult to abandon. Here is an instance of the paradox: (1) Sally pities Anna (where Anna is the character Anna Karenina). (2) To pity someone, one must believe that they exist and are suffering. (3) Sally does not believe that Anna exists. Here is the problem. The paradox was formulated during the heyday of the cognitive theory of the emotions when there was a lot of theoretical commitment to (2) or a variant of it. But now virtually no one accepts (2). To solve the paradox, we just have to find a way to reject one of the inconsistent statements. It appears easy to reject (2). So why do even some of those who do reject (2) not leave matters there? I argue that there is still good reason to consider other solutions to the paradox. It is only by doing so that we fully understand the affective states with which we respond to fiction, in particular, the distinctive functional role that they have in this context

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Objectivity and InterpretationRobert SteckerAccording to Gregory Currie, literary interpretation suffers from a failure of objectivity. 1 He does not claim that the failure is complete, that it is not an objective matter in the least degree which interpretations of a literary work are acceptable, but he does claim that the degree of objectivity is at best small.I believe that literary interpretation is capable of a high degree of objectivity in the sense Currie specifies as well as in other senses. However, the same standard of objectivity is not properly applied to all interpretations, because there are many different aims or interests with which interpretations are advanced, and the requirements of objectivity on acceptability vary with aim.Currie’s argument for objectivity failure should not be accepted. The most important reason for this is that it is based on a faulty conception of the enterprise of literary interpretation. However, the argument is also questionable on that conception.IBefore examining Currie’s argument, it is best to be clear about the objectivity in question. Just what has, or lacks objectivity, and what makes it more or less objective? I confess to being less than completely clear about Currie’s answer to this question. Let us say that it is judgments that are or are not objective, leaving it open for now which literary judgments are in question in Currie’s claim about objectivity failure. Objectivity depends on the possibility of intersubjective agreement or “agreement across points of view” as Currie puts it. Judgments of taste (e.g., “sushi is delicious”) are common candidates for judgments [End Page 48] that are not objective. We can suppose judgments of leftness are objective because we can all agree with my judgment that the book is to my left even if it is to other people’s right and would be to my right were I to reorient myself. Of course, that we can (should?) all agree doesn’t mean we always will. For various reasons, not all of which are relevant to objectivity, some may refuse to agree.According to Currie, objectivity comes in degrees, and nothing said so far indicates how we assign a degree of objectivity to a judgment. Extent of agreement or probability of reaching agreement might be invoked here, but these are not what Currie has in mind. In Currie’s view, degree of objectivity depends on the degree to which a judgment needs to be relativized before it is capable of getting agreement. There is something intuitive in this, but it is tricky to spell out the relevant criterion. Suppose the sushi lovers of Osaka can pretty much agree among themselves about what is good sushi. So can the sushi lovers of Kyoto. However, they cannot agree with each other. What is good sushi is relative to different groups of sushi lovers and their different standards, and that seems to make the goodness of some sushi a less objective matter than if there were one overarching standard. On the other hand, judgments of leftness are also capable of receiving agreement only when relativized to an individual and her orientation. Yet that does not undermine their objectivity. Similarly, to use an example of Currie’s, judgments of velocity need to be made relative to a frame of reference if they are to receive agreement, but that does not undermine their objectivity. Hence relativizing does not always undermine objectivity. Perhaps the relevant difference is something like this. There is no such thing as leftness not relativized to individual and orientation. There is no such thing as velocity not relativized to frame of reference. But perhaps there is such a thing as being a good F not relativized to group standards. This may not be so with sushi, but perhaps it is with carving knives or with stainless steel. In that case judgments of goodness that are independent of group standards, and hence capable of receiving agreement across groups, are more objective than those that are not. However, if all judgments of goodness are by their nature relative to group standards, the above reasoning suggests that such judgments are just as objective as judgments about velocity. That seems wrong...