THE WORLDVIEW ASPECT OF THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN ART AND SCIENCE

E. V. BURMAKIN

(Presented by the scientific seminar of the Department of Philosophy)

First of all, it is necessary to clarify the meaning of the problem indicated in the title of the article. This meaning, of course, is not exhausted by the obvious—the worldview significance of the problem posed (and what scientific problem does not have such significance?), although this general formulation is by no means without a right to exist, as will become clear below. This meaning will become more precise if we strive to determine the place of science and art in worldview in general, if we attempt to determine the significance and role of science and art in the formation of a scientific worldview, which, naturally, is inseparable from an understanding of the role of worldview in scientific and artistic creativity.

With all possible qualifications and reservations, the integral, synthetic character of worldview from the standpoint of the knowledge included in it is obvious; this is the most important point in the understanding of worldview by the classics of Marxism-Leninism, and it is therefore the principal methodological principle in the study of worldview.

Everyone, it seems, agrees with this. Likewise, there can obviously be no objection to the assertion that this knowledge, as part of worldview, is necessary in order to develop an understanding of the world in which a person lives (we hope that this sufficiently limits the use of the word “world”), an understanding of one’s own place, role, the meaning of one’s own existence and tasks.

But precisely at this point another side of worldview is also revealed (just as indisputable): it is not only understanding, but also “an emotional evaluation by man of the meaning of his activity and of the destinies of humanity”¹).

The connection of knowledge and emotional evaluation in worldview is so strong an alloy, so natural and inseparable a unity, that it is precisely worldview that imparts a special “sensitivity” in scientific and social practice. “It was precisely the advanced worldview that gave the astonishing sensitivity of social conscience to noble thinkers and revolutionaries, so sharply sharpened their understanding of reality. It was precisely this that inspired them to an unremitting search and intense reflection on social riddles”²).

It is obvious that the emotional elements present in worldview—

¹) Philosophical Encyclopedia, vol. 3, p. 454.
²) Ibid., p. 455.

assessments are a measure of the strength of a person’s convictions—the most important condition of practical and theoretical activity. Similarly, the worldview itself proves to be a measure of the value of the personality itself. “The value and wholeness of the personality as a subject of history is directly dependent on its worldview”¹).

The significance and role of a scientific worldview in solving the tasks of communist construction are defined with exhaustive completeness by the Program of the CPSU, which attaches primary importance to the formation of a scientific worldview among all working people of Soviet society on the ideological basis of Marxism-Leninism.

Apparently, there is no need to examine in detail the significance of worldview in the life of the individual person and of society as a whole. But in this enduring, outstanding role of worldview, is there not revealed an equally significant place for the system of knowledge and emotional evaluations on the basis of which convictions take shape as the principal moments, the aspects characterizing worldview itself?

It is precisely this circumstance that, first and foremost—though by no means exhaustively—determines the main meaning of the worldview aspect of the interaction between science and art, about which we would like to speak in somewhat greater detail.

Thus, what knowledge do science and art furnish to a worldview; how is this knowledge obtained; what place does it occupy in the system of worldview; how does a given worldview perceive it; finally, is the objectively existing interaction of science and art indifferent or not to worldview itself? This is a far from complete list of those most important, central questions that arise at once, as soon as the topic has been indicated.

It seems that no one objects to the fact that art is indeed one of the forms of cognition. But as soon as, in numerous works and special collections, in monographs, and simply in newspaper and journal articles, various authors move on to a concrete consideration of the processes of cognition in science and art, one can only marvel at the abundance of special points of view, disagreements, and disputes; quite often in this diversity of positions there sound echoes of the already faded dialogue between the “physicists” and the “lyricists,” and not infrequently simply erroneous thoughts that have very serious, as it is customary to say, worldview implications.

Here, for example, is how L. N. Nekhoroshev understands the process of cognition in science and art: “If the scientist, having pushed off from the facts of life, immediately rushes into the world of abstract reasoning and formulas, and his idea begins to develop as a chain of logically constructed inferences, then the artist, having come into contact with a real fact, does not depart into the world of abstractions; he remains among the sensuously tangible forms of life. Unlike the scientist, he begins not only to reason, but also to imagine”². And further, L. N. Nekhoroshev altogether rejects the necessity, which hinders his conception, of “reasoning,” and writes: “Having encountered one or another fact of reality that strikes the imagination, the artist experiences powerful feelings of delight, compassion, hatred, which give birth in his soul to an idea. The idea, appearing as inspiration, illumination, penetrates into the essence of things and may be logically inexpressible”³. Is this not mysticism? With the aid of “illumination” one may

penetrate (cognize) the essence of things. Why, then, science, its difficult path, its agonizing searches—one must become illuminated. And all this is not a reservation, not negligence of style. L. N. Nekhoroshev insists: “Thus, we have defined the content of the ideological conception as an artistic idea, born and living in the soul of man...”⁶. An idea in the soul!... However, here everything is logical. For, according to L. N. Nekhoroshev, it is the scientist who “strives toward a world of abstract reasoning,” while the artist “remains among the sensuously tangible forms of life.”

But L. N. Nekhoroshev’s position is only one extreme. There is another. Here is what B. Runin writes in the article “The Logic of Science and the Logic of Art”: “The formation of an artistic image is the formation of thought.” The opposition between these two positions is obvious. In fairness, it should be said that B. Runin’s article contains quite a few very valuable and correct observations. But what is strange is that in many of his particular conclusions B. Runin, though starting from premises opposite to those of L. N. Nekhoroshev, suddenly converges with his point of view, inevitably falling into contradiction with positions he himself has already formulated. His notions of the essence of scientific truth and artistic truth are such that, on the one hand, they merely provide a new, somewhat refined version of L. N. Nekhoroshev’s position, while, on the other, they lead to conclusions about the role of the cognizing subject in science and in art with which one can hardly agree. Here is what he writes: “In science the cognizing person involuntarily overcomes his natural organization and social affiliation, rises above his perceptions, feelings, and skills; that is, he strives to go beyond the bounds of his biological and social nature. Obeying the ‘research reflex,’ he proceeds to overcome his immediate human reactions”⁸.

Reinforcing this thought of his, B. Runin further declares: “Scientific truth does not depend on who has cognized it”⁹. Possibly that is so. But scientific truth is by no means revealed to every scientist. He has no need at all to “overcome his natural organization and social affiliation” in order to discover objective truth; it is not in spite of these qualities of his, but thanks to them, thanks to his “biological nature” (the possession of the necessary abilities), thanks to his “social nature” (for example, his worldview), that a scientist may or may not discover truth. The author is clearly confusing something. It seems he has forgotten the dialectic of the necessary and the accidental...

And here is how matters look in artistic cognition: “In art the cognizing person, on the contrary, asserts himself in his generic and social characteristics, in his belonging to the nature that gave rise to him and to the society that formed his consciousness. For, following the ‘artistic reflex,’ he relies on his immediate reactions and his skills of social life”¹⁰.

All this would be correct if it were not set in opposition to scientific cognition, if it were not elevated so categorically into an absolute. Therefore it is worth recalling here just one remark by L. Tolstoy: “The most pleasant [works—E. B.] are those in which the author seems to try to conceal his personal view...”¹¹. Of course, this view

⁵ Ibid., p. 115.
⁷ Cf. Commonwealth of Sciences and the Mysteries of Creativity. Moscow, Iskusstvo, 1968, p. 126.
⁸ Ibid., p. 124.
⁹ Ibid., p. 127.
¹⁰ Ibid., p. 124.
¹¹ L. N. Tolstoy, Complete Works, vol. 46. Moscow–Leningrad, Politizdat, 1928–1958, p. 182.

exists, is present, but the artist, the master, always tries to conceal it in the concrete form of the work of art, so as not to turn the work of art into an edifying sermon, so that the reader (listener, etc.) may perceive his views as his own.

All this is well-known truth, to the point of banality. One could go on making excerpts from various works by various authors, revealing a multiplicity of points of view on a single problem, exposing plainly erroneous assertions. But this is not the aim pursued by the present work. Nevertheless, it is necessary after all to sort out the existing contradictions.

Is it not clear that the common methodological basis here can only be the Leninist theory of reflection.

V. I. Lenin, analyzing the categories of logic and of human practice, wrote: “Man’s practical activity had to lead man’s consciousness billions of times to the repetition of various logical figures, in order that these figures could acquire the significance of axioms. This Nota Bene!”^12

Thus, a scientific concept is the result of the generalization of data of practice, of experience, and subsequently it becomes a most important instrument of cognition.^13

Marxist-Leninist aesthetics has long since proved that art, in its origin, is likewise inseparably connected with practice, with man’s labor activity; primitive art was a fact of its awareness and specific expression. Thus, the single source of origin is labor. V. I. Lenin was fully convinced (see Materialism and Empirio-Criticism) that in practical activity cognition proves useful only when it correctly reflects objective reality.

And one more Leninist observation: “Cognition is man’s reflection of nature. But this is not a simple, not an immediate, not a complete reflection, but the process of a series of abstractions, the formation and development of concepts, laws etc., and these concepts, laws etc. (thought, science—the ‘logical idea’) embrace conditionally, approximately the universal law-governed character of eternally moving and developing nature. Here there are really, objectively, three members:
1) nature; 2) human cognition—the human brain (as the highest product of that same nature); and 3) the form of the reflection of nature in human cognition; this form is precisely concepts, laws, categories etc. Man cannot embrace—reflect—mirror nature as a whole, in its entirety, in its ‘immediate wholeness’; he can only eternally draw nearer to this, creating abstractions, concepts, laws, a scientific picture of the world, and so on and so forth.”^14

Having on the whole agreed with and even proclaimed as the initial thesis that art is a reflection of reality, many researchers then do not extend to it the most important feature of reflection, of which Lenin writes: “Cognition is man’s reflection of nature. But this is not a simple, not an immediate, not a complete reflection, but the process of a series of abstractions…”. Possibly what causes confusion here is the circumstance that Lenin, further on, refers only to the forms of scientific cognition. And yet the question must be answered directly: if art is cognition, are the general principles formulated by Lenin applicable to it or not? And if not, how then is the process of cognition to be understood

^12 V. I. Lenin. Philosophical Notebooks. Moscow, Politizdat, 1969, p. 172.
^13 See on this: B. M. Kedrov. “On the Nature of the Scientific Concept.” Questions of Philosophy, 1968, No. 8, p. 15.
^14 V. I. Lenin. Philosophical Notebooks. Moscow, Politizdat, 1969, pp. 163–164.

in art? Can it be understood in the sense that, if scientific cognition “cannot encompass—reflect—represent nature in its entirety, in its ‘immediate wholeness,’” then art is capable of such reflection? In that case it is clear that cognition in art proves to be incomparably higher than cognition in science. Or does the specificity of cognition in art consist in the fact that it remains at the level of a concrete-sensuous vision of the world and does not attain abstract thinking, being by its very nature alien to all abstractions? Again, it is quite clear that in this case cognition in art proves to be far less valuable than in science (for it remains in the sphere of empirical experience). We, however, shall insist on the profound unity of cognition in science and in art, since we have not yet approached the disclosure of their differences, and what some researchers try to see cannot be accepted.

I would like to associate myself with the thought expressed by M. Nechkina in the article “The Function of the Artistic Image in the Historical Process”: “The artistic image is a reflection of life; this is common knowledge. But—the surprising thing is—once an image tries to contain within itself ‘all’ the features of the life phenomenon it reflects, it, as if overburdened to the limit, loses its flight, collapses, and is deprived of force”⁴. But this also means that the artistic image, like the scientific concept, likewise abstracts, abstracts itself from the multitude of features of a life phenomenon, and takes account by no means of all aspects, connections, and properties of the object.

Nor can it be otherwise; otherwise art would be unable to provide the typical. Even a drawing made from nature contains, as it is now customary to say, an incomplete, altered composition of signals in comparison with the objective reality it depicts. But a drawing made by the hand of a master reflects this objective reality more deeply than direct perception does; it grasps the essential, the principal.

Of course, in art not simply “any experience” is fixed; art has as its aim truth, i.e., above all the reflection of the leading tendencies of life, of the essential; it reveals regularities. It is precisely these features that characterize the concept of the typical. B. Suchkov is undoubtedly right in speaking of this most important concept for realist art: “In order that the social analysis of the milieu in which the heroes of works of art act should be realistic, the writer must see and depict reality in its determining, that is, typical manifestations, objectively present in the sphere of social relations, refracted through the individual characters of the heroes. Engels pointed to this feature of the realist method as the most important one.

Naturally and lawfully, the principle of typification in realist art expresses the causality that exists in the world of social phenomena”⁵.

Here, evidently, it should be noted that if art tries to depict life “in its concrete form with unrepeatable details,” if it does not resort to abstractions that reveal the essential, then it becomes naturalistic; it is precisely naturalism that strives to depict life “as it is,” claims adequacy in reflecting reality, and, being incapable of analytical investigation, is incapable of attaining the main goal—truth; it demonstrates the metaphysical character of its thinking and converges with positivism, which also proves to be its philosophical basis.

Thus, here too there is no opposition between cognition in art and cognition in science; both these forms fully fall under the basic features of cognitive reflection formulated by V. I. Lenin. Moreover, art, like science, uses methods of abstraction, reflects the essential, and reveals regularities.

Naturally, in our general formulation of the problem we are compelled to abstract from those real tendencies and concrete works of art, as well as from those concrete scientific conceptions, which do not at all reflect the essential and the lawful, and give a distorted picture, incorrect knowledge. We take into account only the ideal variant of science and art, which at the same time by no means eliminates within itself the opposition between absolute and relative knowledge, the struggle of one conception or another, but which, for all that, still moves along the path of objective truth (it is precisely in this sense that it is called ideal).

But if, from everything that has been said, the conclusion follows that art as cognition, just like science, fully falls under the operation of the general laws characterizing cognition as reflection; that art, like science, uses abstractions and reflects the essential and the general; that even in the very processes of artistic and scientific thinking a unity is discovered—does this mean that these forms of cognition are entirely identical and in principle indistinguishable, that we have not closed off for ourselves the path to revealing the objectively existing distinction between these forms of cognition?

Of course not. And this distinction manifests itself first of all, undoubtedly, in the opposition between the scientific concept (as the chief instrument of cognition in science) and the artistic image (regarded, in this respect, as the chief instrument of cognition in art).

The distinction between concept and image is manifested above all in the fact that if a concept discovers and takes account of an essence in its pure form, then the artistic image depicts the essence through a phenomenon typical of it, a phenomenon that lawfully expresses it (it is known that the phenomena through which one and the same essence shines forth may differ very noticeably from one another). Moreover, the artist may depict both the phenomenon that reflected the essence of the given object in life, in the given concrete-historical situation, and may also construct a phenomenon typical of the given essence, proceeding from that essence itself, having cognized it.

However, even these reflections of ours suffer from a certain limitation and require clarification. Take at least the circumstance that they take into account only one stage of cognition, bearing in mind the relative stability of concept and image; yet it is known that the tasks of science are not exhausted by the formation of abstract concepts: genuinely scientific knowledge moves precisely from the abstract to the concrete (in K. Marx’s terminology—to the concrete in thought), just as the artistic image may be regarded as an element, an important part, of a unified, integral artistic structure (a work of art), which gives fuller, many-sided knowledge of the subject. In this case, the interaction of scientific cognition (say, within the framework of a scientific theory) and artistic cognition proves to be more complex and is not limited to those differences between concept and image that were named above.

But if, in the process of thinking and cognition, it is permissible to abstract from certain aspects, properties, and connections, then our reasoning too retains its right to exist.

However, further, this is still not the whole essence of the differences between cognition in science and in art; it is only a “less profound essence”

from it it is necessary to move on to a deeper one. The sense, the significance of this transition will become clear if we pose the question: why, in science, does cognition take place in this way, in this form, while in art it takes place differently? Is this the consequence of the subjective aspirations of the scientist and the artist, their arbitrary whim, or of established traditions? Obviously, in the present case the subjective characteristics of the scientist or the artist have nothing to do with it.

And here we have approached one of the most fundamental questions, which is also the cause of heated discussion.

Let us set forth our point of view. The distinctive features of cognition in science and in art, their difference, including the form of cognition, are explained by the objectively existing different objects of reflection for art and for science. These different objects (understood as special structures formed from certain elements of objective reality) underlie the differences between science and art as forms of cognition, and determine both the variety of aspects of their interaction and the significance of science and art in a worldview.

Disputes in this regard concern not only whether science and art differ in their object, but also how the object of science and the object of art are to be understood. Let us note that for art this has special significance. Yet as the object of art people name now “man,” now “the aesthetic properties of reality,” now “the relation between subject and object,” now “the emotional-spiritual world of man,” and so on. It is not difficult to see that even the propositions named here prove to be either too broad or very narrow. And their most essential shortcoming consists in the fact that they suffer, to a great degree, from speculative abstractness. Meanwhile only a careful, painstaking analysis of works of art, and their most profound interpretation, can bring us closer to understanding and all the more to defining the object of art.

Moreover, it may be found that the concept of the “object” is fully applicable to the most diverse phenomena of art. We may speak of the special object of an individual work of art (a book, painting, symphony, performance, and so forth), and then, perhaps, it will become clear why so many works have been created on the so-called “eternal themes,” and more will yet be created. The matter is not only one of form!

We have the right to speak of the object of separate kinds, types, and genres of art. And then this recognition of the existence of a special object within the limits of a type proves to be the most important methodological basis for the classification of art and genre studies. The author of the present article attempted to do this by turning to the problems of the genre of the artistic sketch. But here the “object” reveals its complex dialectical properties—it becomes more mobile (than at the level of an individual work), allows deviations and contradictions, while at the same time preserving its specificity. This specificity also has a place when comparing various trends and methods of art (for example, romanticism, realism, naturalism, socialist realism, and so on). Perhaps one may advance the supposition that these trends differ from one another above all in their object.

If all this is taken into account, it will become clear how objectively difficult it is to define the object of art as a whole; it will become understandable what a high degree of generality this definition must attain; it will become understandable why contemporary researchers are not satisfied by the existing conceptions of the object of art. Perhaps only the collaboration of scie-

…to the commonwealth of sciences, to carry out such a task. It is no accident that the application of certain nontraditional methods to the study of art and of the processes of creativity leads to the thought that there exists a special subject matter of art. Is this not what L. B. Pereverzev writes in Art and Cybernetics: “We can only say that the artist and the scientist pursue the same ultimate goal: the cognition of reality in all its fullness, but each has his own specific field of inquiry, and the differences in methods are due not only to personal inclination and certainly not to the superiority of one method over another, but to qualitative and quantitative differences in the areas of the world being studied”⁶.

To this it should be added that, in trying to define the subject matter of art, it is of course meaningless to attempt to attain in this a degree of absolute truth; any definition will be true only under given concrete-historical conditions, only taking into account the already existing, accumulated experience of art. It will, of course, to some degree of approximation be able to foresee the main directions of development in the future, but it will never be able to exhaust them completely. Is this not why all kinds of predictions are especially risky in art?

That is why, within the framework of the present article, what appears to be essential is not so much what precisely is meant by the special subject matter of art (if one abstracts from existing definitions made from the standpoint of an unscientific, idealistic, etc., worldview), but rather the main point becomes the very recognition of a special subject matter in science and in art as a most important methodological basis.

Proceeding from this, we can say that the knowledge supplied to a worldview by science and by art does not exclude one another, does not replace one another, and always preserves its specificity, explained by the nature of the subject matter; precisely for this reason it makes it possible to form the most general and complete conception of the world in which the human being lives and acts.

And, of course, it is precisely the special subject matter of science that determines as its chief instrument—the concept—just as the special subject matter of art explains why art turns to the artistic image.

The object-character of the forms of cognition in science and in art, apparently, manifests itself with particular force in the fact that the essence reflected in a scientific concept can be transmitted as information by the most diverse sign systems, losing nothing and fully preserving all its value. But another essence, contained in the special subject matter of art, in the special subject matter of each individual work of art—an essence that only art can know—is transmitted only in the form and only in the way in which it was embodied by the given artistic image created by this artist. This is what Leo Tolstoy wrote: “A work of art is genuine only when the perceiver cannot imagine anything other than precisely what he sees or hears or understands… The main thing is when he feels that what he hears, sees, understands cannot be otherwise, but must be exactly as he perceives it”⁷.

And here is the conclusion that necessarily follows from the application of mathematical methods of research to art: “A musical, pictorial, poetic, or any other artistic communication will be

perceived by us as genuinely artistic—that is, will be able to arouse in us the corresponding experience and reaction—only in the event that it comes to us encoded in the one and only way: the very one chosen by the artist who created it.”⁸ But mathematical methods of studying works of art confirm with particular force the truth of Goethe’s aphorism: “Being is not divided into reason without remainder.”

What, then, remains “in the remainder”?

And here we approach a new circle of problems connected with the emotional-aesthetic nature of art, since it is precisely these aspects that yield only with difficulty to rational methods of cognition, and it is precisely they that constitute the main content of the “remainder.”

However opposed the division of the emotional and the aesthetic within art may be, we are compelled to make it, concentrating attention, within the limits of this article, on emotional qualities, since it is precisely they that are essential for that part of worldview which, including emotional evaluations of knowledge and representations, cements human convictions. For this also determines one of the most important specific features of art in worldview as compared with science. Here one of the chief differences between science and art manifests itself with particular vividness.

Yet it is necessary again and again to emphasize that this difference itself is only a consequence of the deeper distinction between the special subjects of science and art; therefore, in itself, it cannot be an absolute criterion determining the difference between science and art.

In the present case the difference between science and art consists in the fact that, although the process of scientific creativity is by no means devoid of emotions, scientific knowledge itself, science, does not consciously and specifically set itself the task of influencing human feelings; whereas the specificity of the subject of art requires an appeal to emotions. Only in the totality, in the joint action of the emotional-aesthetic aspects of art, is it possible to understand and assimilate what it reveals to us, what it seeks to suggest, to disclose. In art, the most important significance of emotions in human life is revealed with the greatest fullness. If art, according to Lenin’s assertion, must fertilize the last word of humanity’s revolutionary thought with the experience and living work of the socialist proletariat (see: “Party Organization and Party Literature”), then it is capable of doing this because it reveals truths that only art can reveal, turning for this purpose to the fruitful experience of a person’s emotional life.

If to this we add that the artist’s will, fantasy, imagination, and emotions are determined by his worldview, then it will become clear how great and irreplaceable the significance, the role of art is in the formation of worldview.

Here there is a very complex and inseparable unity: on the one hand, the artist’s worldview determines his vision of the world, his choice, evaluations, and therefore the work of art affirms definite worldview positions; on the other hand, life itself, observed and depicted by the artist, forms his worldview, and if this regularity has been correctly noted, then every honest and unbiased investigator of the objective world (and hence also the artist)

spontaneously approaches, or even arrives at, a scientific worldview. Then a new circle of interaction between art and worldview begins, since the scientific worldview includes and incorporates the knowledge and emotional-aesthetic evaluations of the studied aspects of life obtained by such an artist, and thereby strengthens its positions in the consciousness of humanity, finding new paths for dissemination and penetration into consciousness.

And, of course, Yu. M. Oklyansky is quite right when, in the article “The Material of Reality and the Artistic Image,” he comes to the conclusion that: “the dialectic of the subjective and the objective in the creative process is such that the more strongly reality is experienced and the more deeply it is comprehended by the writer, the more organically these experiences are awakened and illuminated by the advanced ideals and imperatives of the epoch, the more objective significance his work will contain…” ^20). But, understanding life—which forms the artist’s worldview—broadly enough, we must include and take into account within it scientific practice and science, just as, obviously, the practice of art must also be included. Consequently, in naming the factors that influence the formation of a scientist’s worldview, one cannot omit art, just as, with regard to the artist, one cannot forget the influence upon him of the development of science. In the modern world, this latter point has become almost the central problem of art, determining many, including the most important, features of specifically contemporary art.

In summing up this part of the article, I would like to join the thought of Academician M. Nechkina, which she expressed in the article already cited here, “The Functions of the Artistic Image in the Historical Process”: “The enhancement of the role of human consciousness in historical activity has been posed by the epoch. The enrichment and elevation of the emotional sphere of man is one aspect of the building of communist society. The great function of the artistic image in the historical process has a direct relation to all this” ^21).

Yes, of course! The communist worldview itself helps us see that the world of communism is a world of the beautiful, and not merely a “button civilization”; consequently, if the communist education of people’s consciousness is impossible without the assimilation of the necessary scientific knowledge, then the separation of consciousness from art means separation from the world of ideas, from politics, from the emotional unity of the people.

In conclusion to the entire article, it is necessary to say that its meaning and significance are limited only to a general posing of the problem and to an attempt to see some of its concrete aspects. The problem itself, however, appears to the author to be extraordinarily urgent and important not only for the theory, but also for the practice, of contemporary art.

^20) Collection The Role of Worldview in Artistic Creativity, p. 102.
^21) Collection The Commonwealth of Science and the Mysteries of Creativity. Moscow, Iskusstvo Publishers, 1968, p. 98.

1. I. S. Kon, Sociology of Personality. Moscow, Political Literature Publishing House, 1967, p. 98. ↩

2. “The Artistic Idea and the Form of a Work of Art.” In: The Role of Worldview in Artistic Creation. Moscow, Mysl Publishing House, 1966, p. 107. ↩

3. “The Artistic Idea and the Form of a Work of Art.” In: The Role of Worldview in Artistic Creation. Moscow, Mysl Publishing House, 1966, p. 109. ↩

4. Collection The Commonwealth of Sciences and the Secrets of Creativity. Moscow, Iskusstvo Publishing House, 1968, p. 66. ↩

5. Collection Aesthetics Today. Moscow, Iskusstvo Publishing House, 1968, p. 87. ↩

6. L. B. Pereverzev, Art and Cybernetics. Moscow, 1966, p. 86. ↩

7. L. N. Tolstoy, Complete Collected Works, vol. 57, Moscow–Leningrad, Politizdat, 1928–1958, p. 151. ↩

8. L. B. Pereverzev. Art and Cybernetics. Moscow, “Iskusstvo,” 1968, p. 47. ↩