[S]omething new seems to be at work in the contemporary world -- a process that is eating away at contemporary social life, not merely by putting salesmanship in place of moral virtue, but by putting verything -- virtue included -- on sale. . . . To understand this we need to make a distinction that was first hinted at by Coleridge: the distinction between fantasy and imagination. Both fantasy and imagination concern unrealities, but while the unrealities of fantasy penetrate and pollute the world, those of the imagination exist in a world of their own. . . (p 55)Fantasy for Scruton provides convenient surrogates for things that are at least practically unobtainable. He doesn't use video games as an example, but these are equivalent -- players can become superheroes, Navy SEALs, felons on a crime spree, or whatever else suits them.
The character of the fantasy object, moreover, is entirely dictated by the desire which seeks for it -- the object is tailor-made, the perfect dummy, the walking-talking Barbie doll who does what I want since my wanting and her doing are one and the same. (p 59)Imagination, following Scruton's contrast based on Coleridge, is something different:
The emotions inspired by serious art belong to imagination, not to fantasy. . . . We might say that here there is neither real object nor real feeling, but a response in imagination to an imagined scene. In fantasy, by contrast, there is a real feeling which fixes upon an unreal object, in order to gratify vicariously what cannot be gratified in fact. (pp 58-59)But then Scruton gets to the related question of sentimentality.
[S]entimentality plays a central role in modern culture -- it is the mask with which fantasy conceals its cynical self-regard. . . .Sentimental feeling is easy to confuse with the real thing, for, on the surface at least, they have the same object. . . . But. . . . The real focus of my sentimental love is not Judy but me.On one hand, it's worth pointing out that ordinariate communities are simply not consistent in their liturgical observation, in their culture, or in how they represent themselves. On the other hand, there's a very visible use of expressions like "shared treasures", "precious treasures", "Anglican patrimony", and the like, that have a strong sentimental context, as do other phrases that keep popping up in comments and on forums like "Holy Mother Church". The tone of weepiness is in fact pervasive, and I think it's completely phony.
In addition, there's a heavy element of fantasy. I've already posted this screen shot from the Presentation Woodlands website:
The St John Fisher group in Orlando makes similar sentimental fantasy projections for a new parish on its site as well. And we're seeing recommendations from posters on the ordinariate Facebook forum on how to "sell" marginal ordinariate groups. I think the difficulty is that sales efforts are either going to be just generic "be enthusiastic and you'll succeed" exhortations -- themselves versions of salesmanship -- or continued appeals to sentimental fantasy, which are inauthentic at minimum.
My regular correspondent commented,
Of course, I have felt all along that the project is inauthentic and intellectually confused because whatever Anglican patrimony is or isn’t, it has no existence outside of Anglicanism. In the same way, indigenous North American culture can continue to evolve in indigenous communities—-forms and materials are adapted from settler cultures or other tribes but are nonetheless authentic—-but when a non-indigenous person dons a war bonnet or a button blanket, even in a spirit of admiration and appreciation, it’s just a costume. There is regular discussion on assorted fora about expressions such as “Anglican Use” and why the Ordinariate discourages them; people do not seem to grasp that those in the Church tasked with maintaining ecumenical relationships recognise how offensive the appropriation of the word “Anglican” is to actual Anglicans. It’s black-face. Drag. The tomahawk chop.
