I don't know whether this amounts to a topic in it's own right or not but, prompted by Don B's thread on 'realism', I'll give it a whirl anyway. Again, its a sort of spin-off from some comments on the Poetry thread.

hh had commented there that one possible reason why he preferred 'muscular' John Donne to 'drippy' George Herbert was that he agreed with the theology of the former rather more than the latter. And Don B had commented earlier that he didn't personally get a great deal out of poetry that dealt with heterosexual love because it wasn't something he had, or was likely to have, any experience of. Those are just examples (I'm not challenging them) of something more general which often seems to be at least implicit, that we think highly of a work of art if it chimes with our own world view or with our own experience.

That feeling of recognition, the relief and revelation that someone else knows and can express and explain exactly what it is like to be 'me', is obviously a very important part of what art can do. But it did occur to me that, more often than not these days, I find I am seeking out writers and artists who do almost the opposite  -  who can help fill in what it is like to have a completely different world view, who have political, moral and metaphysical beliefs that are diametrically opposed to mine or have experiences and feelings that I am never going to have. ("Oh is that what it was like to be a devout Catholic nun in Konigsburg in 1327" as well as "My goodness, ouch, how on earth did Thomas Hardy get inside my head and know that is exactly how I think too.")

Each of those seem to me as important as the other. There does seem to be a tendency, at least, these days to 'privilege for valorisation' (sorry ) those artists whose world view, as expressed in their art, lines up with our own and that is to miss out on half the point of what art can do for us. Any thoughts?

I also find there are great rewards in exploring artistic work which does not necessarily resonate with my own personal experiences (there are lots of thoughts about the 'other' and exoticism creeping up on the sides of this debate, but I'll hold off those for a while), but also know what Milly means when she says that it takes more effort - it also requires a certain innate curiosity and general openness to the world. I'd like to think that many people have such an attitude, but I'm often disappointed in that respect - if we agree that such an outlook is a good thing in and of itself (and I realise that's a big 'if'), how can it best be encouraged and nurtured?

Omigod! I didn't even know this thing had a built in webcam.  

I'm very much with the concensus here. The composers (and for that matter, the writers, painters etc. as well) whose work I most admire invariably turn out to have been cultural omnivores. They consume and grapple with everything, whatever their predelictions, in order to temper and hone their own art. I think this is not just a rather more interesting way of thinking about (or forcing oneself to think about ) the world, but a healthier way too. And essential if, like many of us here, one is responsible for the education of others. Having said all that, it does require curiosity and effort; and I suspect that what we experience as a sort of unwillingness to engage is more often than not merely a form of laziness. I certainly recognise this in myself sometimes, and try very hard to fight against it.

Not sure I can be very intelligent about this subject, fascinating as it is. I feel that art (in a very general sense of the word) makes me aware of things I didn't know about, but recognise when I see them. (That definitely doesn't make sense.) I will try anything, but am aware fairly quickly whether I'll pursue it in any depth or not. When I was younger, it took much longer to decide. One of the most sensible things I ever heard was from a woman who, when booking a season's concert tickets, would always go for several things she thought she probably wouldn't like.

In real life I definitely go for people who are "like me". On the other hand, I like reading messageboards (the BBC "Have Your Say", for instance) sometimes, just to see how very differently people think. One of the reasons I like R3ok, though, is that I constantly come across ideas that chime with mine, but expand them. You're all so terribly clever. And where else could one have a longish "conversation" about pomegranate seeds?

(I'm still trying to work out what "privilege for valorisation" means.)

I find personally that I get very different things from heterosexual elements vs homosexual elements in stories (or even male versus female).  There's sometimes somethere there with the latter that it doesn't feel I ever get with the former.  That, indeed, is one of the reasons why I put off reading Y, the Last Man until yesterday (I just posted about it on M&S actually). 

I always find myself on-edge with literature with which I am not entirely comfortable with - where often there is some barrier that will stop me from conceptualizing too much about the work.  Indeed, thinking about it now, in terms of appreciating art qua art (whatever that means), that going to someone else's garden to pick cabbages might be the more 'authentic' experience in some sense.

There's a difference as well, I think, to be made between art that one thinks one will somehow be able to eventually get on an intimate basis with, and art that always feels like it will remain at a certain distance.

I'm afraid I have to part company with you there, Mary. I think it definitely does make sense.

Now we've all seen you with your newly-waxed chest and heard the screams first-hand, what are you going to entertain us with next?