Since death of Edward Said in September 2003 I have spoken several times, in different places, about his sense of place of art in life. I confess that I thought of myself on these occasions as correcting or complementing a dominant view, a picture of Edward that was all politics, as if he were nothing other than his admirable set of stances and writings and actions on behalf of Palestinian people. He would have been a remarkable figure if he were only that; but he was more. Not that politics is necessarily a reduction of person; but making any single thing out of a complex person is always a form of reduction. And at no point did I wish to refuse or diminish political aspect of Edward's work. On contrary, I want to understand his politics better, and I want to develop a view of their relation to rest of his work. I even think we might arrive ourselves at a different politics this way. I don't mean change our minds about particular issues, although that would in many cases be no bad thing. I mean change our view, for better, of what politics is, what a truly open and democratic politics might embrace. So what follows rests on three propositions, each slightly contradictory of other two, but all three entangled with each other, in conversation with each other. The three propositions are these: 1. That music, like other arts, is always political, doesn't inhabit a world apart from money, power, prestige; apart from intrigue and all grubbier aspects of human vanity and weakness. Here's what Edward says on an early page of Musical Elaborations, although he is being a little more restrained than we perhaps need to be: the study of music can be more, and not less, interesting if we situate music as taking place ... in a social and cultural setting. Think of affiliation between music and social privilege; or between music and nation; or between music and religious veneration-and idea will be clear enough. 2. That music, like other arts, but perhaps more immediately and more powerfully, creates a space of its own, a form of solitude that doesn't remove us from world but makes a sort of hole in world, a secret zone where there really is nothing but music. Edward writes of the ultimately solitary intimacy by which special music of an author impresses itself upon a receptive critical intelligence. Edward is commenting on a famous passage in
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