Beauty is in the Soul of the Beholder

The terms "beauty" and "art" belong to that class of fuzzy nouns that people can almost make a career out of trying to define ("humor", "evil", "science fiction" and "Torah U'Maddah" come to mind as well). We're thoroughly convinced we know what these words really mean, but when pressed for a precise definition find ourselves taking general stabs at an amorphous villain. Beauty is presumably a good thing, be it in a physical or abstract sense, and art is creative stuff. Beyond this lies a dark abyss of uncertainty, and philosophical conversations that can grate one's nerves to a powder.

I shall save the business of exploring these realms of abstract categorization to those whose nerves are thicker than mine. For purposes of this exposition, our hollow definitions of "beauty" and "art" will suffice.

Many Jews suppress their own artistic inclinations and shun the artistic expressions of others, afraid they may stumble on the manifold spiritual land mines that litter the field. To me, this is akin to avoiding a supermarket that sells both kosher and non-kosher foods. The differences between these foods are extremely subtle at times, and they lie side by side on the shelves, yet all of us have confidence in our ability to march up and down the aisles and make the right decisions. At times we may err and mistakenly consume something forbidden, but the supermarket is far too vast and promising to be prohibited as a result. Similarly, there is far too much to be gained from art, be it entertainment or intellectual exploration, for this vast supermarket to be entirely closed due to the negative pitfalls a careless shopper may encounter.

Nevertheless, the items in the artistic supermarket are not conveniently labeled kosher and non-kosher, at least not to the degree that most of the decision-making is out of the hands of the consumer. This being the case, our impressions of what's allowed and what isn't are influenced by the artists around us, many of whom have no concept of kashrut or lack thereof. Our religious insecurities can be cast aside in the face of overwhelming societal permissiveness. As religious Jews, we will always know that certain artistic expressions are definitely unacceptable, but our sensitivity to less flagrant expressions can be eroded.

I refer in particular to the short story event of our recent Arts Festival, which I attended. Thirteen students of YC and Stern presented their creative efforts, exhibiting a wide range of impressive talents. What disturbed me, however, was the fact that nearly half of the short stories centered around or contained direct sexual references. We're not talking about a man and a woman gazing into each other's eyes. We're talking about stories replete with sweaty naked bodies and heated passions.

I imagine most of the writers would have been embarrassed to read such things in public just a few years ago. Sexuality was taboo until they'd grown up a little and society had encouraged them that, come on, it's just a bodily function. There's nothing dirty about it. It's a beautiful thing. Feeling a great weight being lifted off their creative impulses, these writers felt permitted, if not comfortable, exploring physical love in their writing.

Without venturing too far into precise definitions, I would agree that sex can be a beautiful thing, but it isn't necessarily a beautiful thing. Urine, feces, vomit, body odor, kidney stones, hemorrhoids, cerebral palsy, rigor mortis, meningitis, gingivitis, and internal bleeding are all related to the body and its functions as well. However, any artist who feeds himself with ventures into these areas is fasting most of the time. These things are all intricacies of creation, and some of them are vital to our survival, yet society is disgusted by them.

Most people consider incest to be a perverse act, but would be hard-pressed to explain why. Theodore Sturgeon wrote a novella exploring this very question (I didn't care for it enough to commit the title to memory). A man visits a planet on which incestuous relationships are as natural and "beautiful" as any other. At first the man is shocked and horrified, but eventually subscribes to their philosophy.

Clearly, we must have a basis other than instinct with which to equate "beauty" and "ugliness". Otherwise, our innate and unqualified beliefs can be eroded by our environment or through philosophical debate. We have the Torah, and, while definitions of physical beauty are left to the individual, spiritual beauty, the sort of which sex must be classified under, has its parameters. It can be extremely holy, or, if perverted, an abomination; "beauty" and "ugliness" to the greatest extremes.

There is a halakha in Maseketh Derech Eretz which forbids belching in public (I must confess to having transgressed this on occasion). Belching is a bodily function and can be physically satisfying. Nevertheless, it is considered crude to exhibit this behavior in public. This is not to say that belching is inherently disgusting or ugly, but that, if exhibited in an inappropriate forum, it becomes ugly. Similarly, the elimination of bodily waste is not a horrible and disgusting event, but it can become one if performed outside its acceptable parameters.

While sex is certainly not a perfect parallel, the idea is really the same. There is nothing filthy about sexual expression, but its place is neither on the stage nor in the writing center. The human heart, a universal symbol of love, is forever contained within the body, out of sight. The Mishkan (Tabernacle) was covered with layer upon layer of curtains to protect its beauty, the implication being that gratuitous exhibition would tarnish its appeal.

The fact that society disagrees with us is irrelevant and should only strengthen our resolve to act correctly. Rather than feel burdened by the Torah and ashamed of our differences with those less privileged, we should proudly abstain from false kashrut labels in the artistic community. There's plenty of kosher stuff to satisfy anyone's need for expression.