Based on the reflections of philosophers such as Will and Ariel Durant we might imagine that human understanding unfolds across three levels, and that the arts belong primarily to the first two.
The first level is mythology. At this stage, human beings personify and idolize the forces of the universe, creating gods and stories to explain what they do not yet understand. These narratives, built from character, conflict, and emotional logic, are as compelling as any play or screenplay. They require no more than a child’s threshold for belief, and perhaps no less. Myth and art are so closely linked here that they may be indistinguishable. One might even argue that mythology gave birth to the arts—or that the human need for art gave birth to mythology.
The second level is metaphysics. Here, humans search for meaning beyond the reach of science. Some turn to metaphysics because they lived before modern science, others because they distrust it, or find it emotionally insufficient. At this level, the arts remain essential. If metaphysics seeks meaning, the arts give that search emotional form. They are not identical, but they are deeply allied.
The third level is the modern scientific mind. It seeks to understand the world through observation, measurement, and experiment. It asks how, not why. And this is where the trouble begins. Without myth or metaphysics, there is no safety net. No comforting narratives, no ceremonial meaning, no divine explanations—only what can be demonstrated. It is a clearer vision, but a colder one. Perhaps this is why so few of us remain there for long. Or perhaps we fear what such clarity might reveal.
Durant once wrote that the greatest mistake in human history may have been the discovery of truth—that it stripped us not only of illusion, but of comfort, beauty, and even purpose. Whether or not we accept that claim, it raises a troubling question: does the pursuit of truth pull us away from the arts?
At the level of mythology, the arts and human understanding are inseparable. The tools used to build gods—story, character, conflict—are the same tools used by artists. Myth simply rises to the level of belief, while art remains openly invented. The difference is not in structure, but in status. At the metaphysical level, the arts continue to thrive. They give shape to spiritual longing and emotional inquiry. They may not provide answers, but they make the questions livable.
But at the third level, the arts face a problem. Science has yet to confirm the existence of gods, spirits, or an afterlife. It does not explain meaning. It explains function. And when the “why” disappears, something essential to art begins to erode. A work of art without theme is not a work of art. Even a piece that claims to be about “nothing” still asserts something about experience, emotion, or existence. Art requires meaning. And if the universe itself has no confirmed meaning—if it simply is—then it resists being shaped into art.
At this level, only a few artists venture forward, exploring absurdism or existentialism. But even they must step back from the edge. Because to create, one must impose meaning, even if only temporarily. In this sense, the existentialist and the mystic are not so different. Both construct meaning. The difference is that one admits it.
Ariel Durant observed that religion, like poetry, is an imaginative embellishment of reality—an attempt to make a neutral universe feel sympathetic. The same can be said of all art. Like myth and metaphysics, it steps off the train before reaching the final station. Perhaps one day we will discover an empirical meaning to life. For now, we do not have enough light to see that far.
Will Durant wrote, “If we could see ourselves as eternity sees us we should hang ourselves on the nearest tree. A short perspective is the secret of happiness.” This same short perspective is contained with all art. No matter how epic the story, no matter how encompassing the theme, art does not deal with the limitless. Even the most sublime and significant work by the greatest artist concerning the meaning of eternity is limited by a frame, clipped by the short human attention span, or simply thwarted by the words, “The End.”
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