by Aidan Jones

Among my many pet peeves is when self-proclaimed “artistic types” scoff at the great artistic achievements of our ancestors. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” they snort, scorning a simple pastoral painting in favor of a meaningless combination of colors that some tortured soul was inspired to plaster across a canvas. They grin determinedly through an atonal opera, explaining that “there’s no arguing over taste.” According to this worldview, the Sistine Chapel is on equal footing with Chicago’s Cloud Gate (or “The Bean,” as some prefer to call it). Beauty, after all, is only what we make it. 

As something of an artist myself, I have often found myself frustrated by the modern tendency to reduce beauty to a subjective opinion. It had always seemed to me that a soulless cement apartment building was obviously less beautiful than a Gothic cathedral, and that a trash heap was clearly less beautiful than a venerable oak. My experience of the world around me suggested that there was not only a subjective aspect of beauty, but also an objective one. Besides, if objective truth and objective goodness exist (I would think to myself), then shouldn’t objective beauty? But how can I prove that? I knew intuitively when I encountered beauty, but I didn’t know how to argue that this intuition was anything more than a subjective opinion. This concept of the objective element in beauty became something of a preoccupation of mine, but a satisfying explanation eluded me. There must be a way (I’d think), that we can quantify beauty without making everyone’s eyes glaze over.

Enter John-Mark Miravalle. His 2019 book Beauty: What It Is and Why It Matters lays out in plain English a philosophy of beauty that is both simple and nuanced. Even better, it rings true to life. Miravalle draws on a rich patrimony to craft his work, referencing Aristotle, Plato, Aquinas, Augustine, G.K. Chesterton, C.S. Lewis, Jacques Maritain, Josef Pieper, Hans Urs von Balthasar, and Roger Scruton (among others) over the course of his book. Despite their frequency, these references never feel excessive, or like the author is talking over the reader’s head. Additionally, although Miravalle is a theologian by trade, this book is not a specifically theological work. Rather, theology is used alongside philosophy and common sense as a means of arriving at truth. Miravalle’s work throughout is focused, as the title suggests, on what beauty is and why it matters for our lives. 

Beauty: What it is & Why it Matters lays out in plain English a philosophy of beauty that is both simple and nuanced. Even better, it rings true to life.

The book is arranged in three parts. The first is titled “The Nature of Beauty” and focuses on defining beauty as well as examining natural beauty and the beauty of the human form. In part two, Miravalle deals with “Man-Made Beauty,” focusing on art, artists, and artistic patterns. The third section, “Beauty and the Supernatural,” focuses on Christian art, liturgy, and other theological aspects of beauty. One of my few complaints with this book is that the postscript, concerned with “The Ethics of Humor,” feels out of place and disconnected from the rest of the work. 

For me, the most helpful aspect of this book was its everyday definition of beauty: order combined with surprise. A utilitarian office building is banal because it emphasizes order without the presence of anything surprising. On the other hand, certain modern works of “art” are chaotic collections of surprise that lack order. True beauty is found when order and surprise work in harmony. There are likely better and more thorough definitions of beauty, but I’ve found Miravalle’s to be a useful tool for quick evaluation, serving as an imprecise but objective standard with which to judge whether or not something is beautiful. 

The most helpful aspect of this book was an everyday definition of beauty: order combined with surprise.

Miravalle makes it clear that this is a book for everyone, not just educated art snobs. He notes in his introduction that “folks sometimes feel as if they can’t get the whole ‘beauty thing’ unless they’re highly cultured or deeply educated in the histories of art, music, literature, architecture, and so forth.” The author goes on to dispel this myth, arguing that “beauty isn’t just for the cultivated or the dreamers or the touchy-feely types – it’s for everyone.” He explains that “beauty is like happiness, love, understanding – it’s what the human person was made for,” and later even suggests that “an orientation toward beauty is intrinsic to our nature.” For Miravalle, an understanding of beauty shouldn’t only belong to “cultured” critics—it’s for the common man.

Beauty is like happiness, love, understanding – it’s what the human person was made for…an orientation toward beauty is intrinsic to our nature.

Beauty: What It Is and Why It Matters is an approachable work regardless of one’s background, and can serve as an insightful guide to anyone who hopes to cultivate a deeper appreciation and understanding of beauty. 

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Aidan Jones is a first-year graduate student pursuing a Master of Arts in Classical Education at Hillsdale College. His work has previously appeared in publications including the St. Austin Review, Gilbert magazine, and the Chesterton Review.