JUNE 6, 2022 – (Cont.) “Can I ask,” I said, “if the concept of beauty exists on your Goldilocks planet?”
The alien’s luminous filaments expanded, then contracted rhythmically, as if part of a philosophical pulmonary function. My question had registered, but absent a verbal explanation, I couldn’t divine the alien’s bottom-line reaction.
“Yes,” said the alien. “we have a form of the concept, but ours is an abstract version of what you’ve explained about the human notion of beauty.”
“And . . .?”
“You see, we understand beauty as being synonymous with being—existence is inherently beautiful. All that exists is beautiful by way of integration. From the perceptive of my place of origin, everything in the universe is connected with everything else, and that’s what makes everything beautiful.
I was underwhelmed, but out of diplomatic politeness, I said, “All for one, and one for all!”
“Yes. In that line is universal beauty.”
“Fine,” I said, “but what I’m more curious about, frankly, is whether you and your kind recognize the intrinsic visual and aural appeal that certain arrangements of shades and shapes, tunes and timbres have on humans.”
“How would I know what affect these things have on humans?”
“You wouldn’t without climbing inside our heads, but in the context of aesthetics, I think you’d need to get inside our hearts . . .” I slammed on the brakes. The last thing I wanted was for the alien to be crawling around inside my inner thoughts and feelings. “I’m not suggesting you try . . .”
The alien flashed and hummed excitedly. I quickly sought to divert its attention from the idea of downloading my heart and brain. “Look,” I said. “How ’bout we try an experiment.”
“You know—I’m all about science.”
“So you’ve said. What I have in mind isn’t necessarily a scientific experiment, but it’s an alternative to a line of questioning that might not advance our mutual understanding.”
“In any event,” said the alien, “you’ve piqued my curiosity.”
“Ah ha—curiosity!” I said. “You’ve got curiosity, and curiosity, I propose, is related to imagination, and imagination is related to artistic endeavor, and art, in turn, is often closely related to aesthetics, though just to make life on earth more interesting, beauty doesn’t necessarily define art; in fact, art can often be the very antithesis of beauty, and . . .
“You’re losing me.” The alien interrupted me with a tone of impatience, which surprised me. Didn’t it have all the time in the world . . . er, cosmos?
“Sorry.”
“Take me back to the experiment.”
“Okay, will do. It’s a simple one. While you sit . . . I mean hover, hum and pulsate . . . here, I’ll play some recordings of what I consider to be our ‘best stuff.’ You can listen for as long as you want and then decide what you think—or dare I say, ‘what you feel’?”
“Alright.”
“Wait here,” I said. My first stop would be the bathroom. I’d nervously consumed more than a reasonable allotment of lemonade, and biological processes had now caught up. As I tended to this most basic human function, my thoughts trailed back to an essay I’d written many years ago for a friend. (Cont.)
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© 2022 by Eric Nilsson
