The second Brandenburg concerto, on an indestructible phonograph disc, is drifting eternally in space affixed to Voyager II” –David Markson, from his novel Reader’s BlockScreen dumps from the book Starting With Derrida by Sean Gaston
Screen dumps from the book This is Not a Tragedy: The Works of David MarksonBy Françoise Palleau-Papin
Transcript from the talk show Skavlan December 4th 2015:
Linn Ullmann (norwegian author): «Do you believe in grace? Something as in music or…»
Richard Dawkins: «What do you mean by “grace”?»
Ullmann: «I’d like to know what you mean by it.»
Dawkins: «I don’t, I don’t use the word.»
Ullmann: «Is that a word that is not even in your vocabulary?»
Dawkins: «No, it isn’t, but I don’t want you to get away with saying that Bach sort of belong to the supernatural, because Bach wrote beautiful music, inspired by religion, which I apresiate as much as anybody else, I mean I adore Bach, I don’t want anybody to get away with the sort of thought that an atheist can not apreciate the great art, the great music, the great poetry of the world. Far from it! We can, we do.»
(Applause in audience)
End of transcript.
I have marked in bold the part of the transcript where Dawkins instead of continuing on Ullmanns derivation of the word «grace» in music Dawkins plays on with the phonic signifier of music itself, claiming that atheists can enjoy the art of the phonic signifiers. He get touched by music, by a signifier that comes silently from the sheet music through the ear and into the soul, or in Dawkin’s terminology: the gene for enjoying music. I think it’s interesting how language fall short in describing the experience of the thing that with the linguistic signs is called «grace», and how it kind of flows into music.