Art for art’s sake—the usual English rendering of l’art pour l’art , a French slogan from the early 19th century—is a phrase that expresses the philosophy that the intrinsic value of art, and the only ‘true’ art, is divorced from any didactic, moral, political, or utilitarian function. Such works are sometimes described as autotelic (from Greek: autoteles, ‘complete in itself’), a concept that has been expanded to embrace “inner-directed” or “self-motivated” human beings.
The combination of an inarguable Northeast wind of 24 Km/hr and a predicted high tide at 1:16 PM did not bode well for a late morning cycle on the beach. I dawdled in bed until close to 8:30 am this morning. Even after my immediate performance of ablutions I corrupted the regular breakfast agenda by reading a lengthy article published by the Berggruen Institute in a magazine entitled Noēma. I was strangely overcome with the necessity to submit my personal take on the editorial article.
In 2010, Nicolas Berggruen and Nathan Gardels sat down with a group of scholars, business leaders and political veterans in California to contemplate the economic and political stresses caused by the global financial crisis, the widespread perception of failing political institutions and Western democracies and the question of how China’s rise would affect international cooperation and governance in the 21st century.
Circuitously I made my way today about Sea Pines on my bicycle. Initially I had it in mind that I wasn’t up to the customary more prolonged route towards Sonesta at Marker 67 then back along the beach to Sea Pines Beach Club. My prior investigations over breakfast informed me the High Tide was at 12:25 PM and the wind from the Northwest at 19 Km/h which translated to an undesirable shoreline course except perhaps from the northern end of the Island southwards. Indeed it was the latter prescription I thought to follow first by accessing the beach near Ocean Gate whence I figured I might sail southward towards either Beach Club or Tower Beach. When I made it to the beach my energy was sufficiently saturated to prompt me to lay down my bike then myself upon the sand.
For what began this morning as a comparatively uneventful day – which on Hilton Head Island I dare say is hardly a misgiving of any sustainable nature – heated up fairly rapidly following my return mid-afternoon to the “villa” (as our estate agent is wont to describe it though I cannot imagine why). Prior to re-attending the apartment – and midway during my constitutional cycle – I had contented myself to repose on the fine white sand adjacent the dunes at the northern end of Sea Pines near Ocean Gate. The bicycle ride today from Coligny Beach Park was another of those endurance outings as I confronted a strong wind from the southwest. Given the qualifications of my rental bicycle, rotating the pedals is not a matter of calculated ease. Nonetheless I embrace the demand as it affords the necessity to put my back into it, something I conceive will hasten weight loss although to date – in the face of glazed donuts – it has not. By the time I had gone only half-way from Coligny to my goal at Sea Pines Beach Club I succumbed to the allure of reclining on the beach by the dunes.
Lingering on Hilton Head Island is a simple but congenial abandonment. Yet I find it achieves the height of prosperity to have nothing to do but seize the moment. At this late stage of my life it is a commission of welcome interest, accommodation and engagement. Frankly I can think of absolutely nothing more pleasant and diverting nor more respectful of the uncertain vicissitudes of life. It is an obligation void of anything rapacious or vulgar. It has a natural element which invigorates that of which one so often hears others so knowingly opine to visit upon themselves; viz., the often poetic ingredients of sunshine, fresh air and a crashing ocean.
The immediate provocation this morning was the annual filing of government forms with the US Department of the Treasury Internal Revenue Service (“Closer Connection Exception Statement for Aliens“). The incitement to the local post office where we purchased a 58¢ stamp conveniently took us adjacent an ATM and the purveyor of freshly fried donuts glazed in glistening white sugary syrup. We opted to linger at Lowcountry Produce Market & Café as was our wont. There at the service of Robert (an erstwhile long-haired English teacher who instructively approves of the vernacular rather than the mechanical fiat of grammar) we indulged our further appetite. In short, an indescribably satisfying detour from our customary ambitions! Thus enlivened we afterwards regained our balance. I launched my traditional outing upon the trusty two-wheeler.
“All these things confirmed James in the resolution which he had taken on the preceding evening. Orders were given for an immediate retreat. Salisbury was in an uproar. The camp broke up with the confusion of a flight. No man knew whom to trust or whom to obey. The material strength of the army was little diminished: but its moral strength had been destroyed. Many whom shame would have restrained from leading the way to the Prince’s quarters were eager to imitate an example which they never would have set; and many, who would have stood by their King while he appeared to be resolutely advancing against the invaders, felt no inclination to follow a receding standard.”
Excerpt From
The History of England, from the Accession of James II — Volume 2
Thomas Babington Macaulay
This morning I had to walk with my stick up and down three flights of stairs at our condo building because the elevator is not working. This is but one more annoyance to inconvenience us since our arrival here over a month ago. Our communications with the estate agent distinguish themselves only by their pretence of attention and resolve. It appears increasingly that we are by equal measure disappointed and dissatisfied with both the estate agent Beverly Serral (who paradoxically labels herself and her company “BESTNEST”) and the condo regime. The pattern of dissaffection has regrettably arisen to the point of having to consider what amounts to legal action to resolve the contractual failure and misrepresentation by both the owner and the estate agent on the owner’s behalf. The disruptions have extended to include prolonged failure of laundry devices, mould, absence of pest control, disrepair within the apartment, shabby appearance of certain common elements among others. It has been a descent by increments the resulting paramountcy of which has become insupportable.
If I were the one planning the voyage I cannot imagine having done a better job of getting me here! New Year’s Day 2022! Let’s face it, I’m damaged goods. In spite of all my youthful violations and extravagances, my erstwhile passion for blended scotch whiskey and latterly frozen vodka martinis, my mid-life passions, cigarettes, cigars and the unpredictable penalties of life, today I was blissfully reclined and entranced upon a foggy beach of the North Atlantic Ocean, one of nature’s most esteemed barrier islands, squinting upwards towards the glimmering white orb, stretching outwards towards the sea upon the sand dunes to relieve my limbs after having cycled 10 kms from Harbour Town. To whom do I owe this incalculable privilege and pleasure! If ever there were a case to be made for divine providence! My own less than astral intervention is hardly the circumspection of my just portion.
Years ago on Christmas Day, 2010 when we first stepped foot on the beach of Hilton Head Island we hardly imagined we’d be here again on New Year’s Eve, 2021. We’re thrilled to be gassing about it once again!