Joy, Guilt, Anger, Love Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Giovanni Frazzetto
humility, promises to restore good conduct.
The truth of context
It is entirely disputable whether Caravaggio in truth felt any guilt. There is no way to find out. In light of his turbulent past of crime, brawls and violence, he may well have felt none. The fact that he used his own face to depict Goliath is no definite proof of his feelings of remorse. There are no documents or letters that may testify to an authentic repentance. Some argue that his portrait as Goliath is yet another expression of his narcissism. 22 The painting may have been just the artist’s nifty stratagem to regain credibility and have the gates of Rome opened to him again. Caravaggio had the painting sent to a powerful patron in Rome, the Cardinal Scipione Borghese, the administrator in chief of the Vatican system of justice, to seek forgiveness and permission to re-enter the city from which he had fled in disgrace. 23 Caravaggio’s undeniable talent, his boundless imagination and his sensitivity may have enthralled anyone willing to give him another chance. If his goal was to convey a deep sense of guilt and his repentance, he did succeed in it. He certainly knew how to conquer the viewer’s sympathy with the emotional power of his paintings.
We need to pay attention to the historical context of the painter’s life. In Caravaggio’s Rome, murders were not a rare occurrence. The prevailing customs and squalor of the city were such that fights, or even homicides, happened on a regular basis. Rome was a daily circus, a rowdy and perilous place. This does not mean that in Rome at the turn of the seventeenth century murders were encouraged, or that they would go unpunished. But they were frequent. The anatomical precision and realistic immediacy of the physical violence in Caravaggio’s paintings reflected first-hand knowledge of the violence to which he was exposed on the streets.
What makes emotions such as guilt and shame moral is also their dependency on given values of the social context. As a moral emotion, guilt is influenced by the behavioural codes and norms of the culture in which it is experienced. Actions or turns of speech that are considered inappropriate in one culture are guilt-free in another culture. In the UK, homosexuality was not decriminalized until 1967. For almost all religions, it still remains an unacceptable sin, and several countries in the world, such as Uganda or the United Arab Emirates, continue to ban it.
Today, killing someone would never be regarded as an acceptable custom or a forgivable deed (though, that said, there are countries that inexplicably retain the death penalty). However, when judging the severity of a murder, courts take into account elements that may justify the killing – say, legitimate defence. In countries such as Italy, crimes of honour were customarily punished with lenient sentences until the early 1980s. If an action is not frowned upon or considered illegal in a particular society or social context, those committing it experience no habitual response of guilt. The biological apparatus that can make us feel guilt is spared the expenditure of energy. So, morals and norms evolve and change in society, and our biological ability to make moral choices and feel guilt over them adapts accordingly.
Caravaggio eventually received the Vatican’s pardon, but he never reached Rome, for he died in mysterious circumstances on his way back to Rome.
If Caravaggio were still alive today, he would certainly make a very interesting subject for neurological study: both in further investigation of the neural seat of guilt, and a thorough scrutiny of his extensive portfolio of violent and rebellious actions. Was he a carrier of the short version of the MAOA gene? What did his prefrontal cortex look like? Did his solitary childhood and dismantled family play a role in the outcome of his violent behaviour? The answers blow in the wind.
But the incomparable calibre of his art, his enhanced imagination and
The truth of context
It is entirely disputable whether Caravaggio in truth felt any guilt. There is no way to find out. In light of his turbulent past of crime, brawls and violence, he may well have felt none. The fact that he used his own face to depict Goliath is no definite proof of his feelings of remorse. There are no documents or letters that may testify to an authentic repentance. Some argue that his portrait as Goliath is yet another expression of his narcissism. 22 The painting may have been just the artist’s nifty stratagem to regain credibility and have the gates of Rome opened to him again. Caravaggio had the painting sent to a powerful patron in Rome, the Cardinal Scipione Borghese, the administrator in chief of the Vatican system of justice, to seek forgiveness and permission to re-enter the city from which he had fled in disgrace. 23 Caravaggio’s undeniable talent, his boundless imagination and his sensitivity may have enthralled anyone willing to give him another chance. If his goal was to convey a deep sense of guilt and his repentance, he did succeed in it. He certainly knew how to conquer the viewer’s sympathy with the emotional power of his paintings.
We need to pay attention to the historical context of the painter’s life. In Caravaggio’s Rome, murders were not a rare occurrence. The prevailing customs and squalor of the city were such that fights, or even homicides, happened on a regular basis. Rome was a daily circus, a rowdy and perilous place. This does not mean that in Rome at the turn of the seventeenth century murders were encouraged, or that they would go unpunished. But they were frequent. The anatomical precision and realistic immediacy of the physical violence in Caravaggio’s paintings reflected first-hand knowledge of the violence to which he was exposed on the streets.
What makes emotions such as guilt and shame moral is also their dependency on given values of the social context. As a moral emotion, guilt is influenced by the behavioural codes and norms of the culture in which it is experienced. Actions or turns of speech that are considered inappropriate in one culture are guilt-free in another culture. In the UK, homosexuality was not decriminalized until 1967. For almost all religions, it still remains an unacceptable sin, and several countries in the world, such as Uganda or the United Arab Emirates, continue to ban it.
Today, killing someone would never be regarded as an acceptable custom or a forgivable deed (though, that said, there are countries that inexplicably retain the death penalty). However, when judging the severity of a murder, courts take into account elements that may justify the killing – say, legitimate defence. In countries such as Italy, crimes of honour were customarily punished with lenient sentences until the early 1980s. If an action is not frowned upon or considered illegal in a particular society or social context, those committing it experience no habitual response of guilt. The biological apparatus that can make us feel guilt is spared the expenditure of energy. So, morals and norms evolve and change in society, and our biological ability to make moral choices and feel guilt over them adapts accordingly.
Caravaggio eventually received the Vatican’s pardon, but he never reached Rome, for he died in mysterious circumstances on his way back to Rome.
If Caravaggio were still alive today, he would certainly make a very interesting subject for neurological study: both in further investigation of the neural seat of guilt, and a thorough scrutiny of his extensive portfolio of violent and rebellious actions. Was he a carrier of the short version of the MAOA gene? What did his prefrontal cortex look like? Did his solitary childhood and dismantled family play a role in the outcome of his violent behaviour? The answers blow in the wind.
But the incomparable calibre of his art, his enhanced imagination and