86 July 2014 sky & telescope
Per h a ps you h av e noticed the diff er-
ence. We’ve all shown Saturn to someone,
or perhaps you’ve shared a clear view of
a bright star cluster with someone who
hasn’t seen such a thing before. In these
and similar cases, the sheer beauty of the
object is the whole point; any impressive
facts are secondary. It doesn’t really matter
how big or far away it is. When someone
sees Saturn for the fi rst time we hear a
shout of surprise, a shared experience of
joy at seeing something wonderful.
Now think about one of those other
sights — the ones that make your gut
tighten up, that stop your mind for a few
seconds until you recover and are able
to take it all in. You probably know the
essential facts about this object, but it
still baffl es you. Chances are that you’re
looking at something faint, perhaps a
very distant galaxy cluster, or perhaps you
targeted a quasar. But in each case you’re
seeing something that is best appreciated
when you know how unimaginably far
away or immense it actually is.
You are probably not going to call a
stranger over to see this. What you know
you’re seeing overwhelms you, sets you
back on your heels, but you don’t know if
the person next to you can appreciate that
gray spot in the same heart-stopping way
that you do. It’s not because the image
in your eyepiece is indistinct or faint, it’s
because you’ve encountered the sublime.
The diff erence between these two
kinds of experiences is not unique to
astronomy. In fact, philosophers no less
distinguished than Edmund Burke and
Immanuel Kant have pondered the diff er-
ent emotional experiences. They and other
intellectual luminaries explored what
aff ects us so deeply when we encounter
enormous or uncountable things. They
came to diff erent conclusions but agreed
that the sublime is distinct from mere
beauty. So what really happens to us when
we encounter something awesome in the
eyepiece, and why does it feel so diff erent?
Kant decided that beauty is social, that
it can be reasonably summed up as some-
thing we share with others. But that is not
so with the sublime. The experience of the
sublime puts you right up against what
you’re viewing; it’s just you and the uni-
verse and at fi rst it seems like there’s a bad
fi t between the two. It’s a solitary experi-
ence. Kant explained it like this: faced
with something that is just too much for
us, we are halted in our tracks, unable to
imagine or absorb it. But after this initial
moment of blockage, our sense of reason
comes to the rescue, and we’re able to
fashion a kind of accommodation between
ourselves and whatever is out there.
It’s that brief moment of being blocked,
and then rescued, that produces the exhil-
aration of the sublime. What for a moment
had seemed an imaginative defeat has
become just the opposite, an experience
of awe and of participation in wonder. It’s
what you sometimes feel on the observing
fi eld on a good night. You can share the
view, but your feelings can only be shared
with the universe. ✦
Michael Deneen teaches at Endicott College
and is a member of the Gloucester Area
Astronomy Club on Cape Ann in Massachu-
setts. He is a guerrilla astronomy enthusiast,
and enjoys staring at baffl ing objects late at
night with friends.
Focal Point Michael Deneen
You and the Universe
At the eyepiece, there’s a diff erence between beauty and the sublime.
Saturn is one of astronomy’s most spectacular sights. Quasar CFHQS (arrowed)
is more impressive for its distance.
S&T:
SEAN WALKER
JOHANNES SCHEDLER / KEN CRAWFORD