But is the writing in the bible actually art? Surely that's a case of perceived significance and familiarity rather than great writing?

Well, it was all written down by someone, who presumably was trying to make the words as expressive of the meaning she/he was trying to convey as possible.

Even if you think the meanings originated in somewhere other than the consciousness of various ancient humans, only the words of the Ten Commandments were actually plonked onto paper - or rather stone - by divine power, Everything else had to come through a human consciousness.

And translation is an art, and the Bible that we read is a translation.

Regardless of what you think of the religion behind the Bible (and I'm an atheist) there are passages in The King James translation that are among the most beautiful writing in any language ever.

The Song of Solomon for example - that can stand proudly next to any love poem ever written in any language.

Of course there's some terrible writing too, and some workmanlike bits that don't really lend themselves to stirring prose. But there are also some passages that can stand alongside Shakespeare or Chaucer or any other great writing you care to name.

And to see the difference a good translation makes, read The Song of Solomon in the King James version and the Good News version and tell me if the former isn't great literature.

And I'm puzzled by the idea that something is any less worthy of being called art because it's got a "perceived significance" behind it.

Is St Paul's cathedral any less great architecture because it's a church?

If you take away the context then the writing in the Bible is still beautiful - that's the bottom line. If St Paul's was a town hall it would still be a stirring building.

The Odyssey is a story about religion and a product of people trying to make sense of their history and construct a narrative about their own identity in just the same way. That doesn't mean it's any less important as literature.

And I'm puzzled by the idea that something is any less worthy of being called art because it's got a "perceived significance" behind it.

Not what I meant, I think. I was talking about the way something - like a national anthem, flag or scripture - can evoke feeling because of what it represents rather than what it is. I haven't seen the specific pieces you mention, so will look them up, but have failed to be moved by any other religious extract (though some bits, like the "before Abraham ever was, I am" line made me think for a while).

So, not knocking based on significance. Just trying to assess on different criteria.

G

Ah ok, well I take your point but I think as a reader you have an equal duty not to assume a text is only great because of its religious significance, but to approach it open-mindedly from both directions.

There was a fabulous classic serial on the beeb a while back by Michael Symmons Roberts (the poet) which combined the Song of Songs with the Book of Lamentations http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01jwfwv

The Waste Land.

Even if you didn't understand a word of it, it would still sound great.

So true catkin! And even though you don't understand it, somehow you still do, don't you? Or Prufrock. I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

And even though you don't understand it, somehow you still do, don't you?

Yes.

And Eliot did say that if he'd know what it meant, he wouldn't have had to write it...

I understand what you mean, Gaius, and agree with you about the Bible. I find Gilgamesh much more beautiful, moving and thought-provoking than anything in the Bible.
I came across a poem: Rich in Vitamin C by J H Prynne that may answer your requirements. Poetry in general, I guess.

I can't imagine better training in how to write than reading Gatsby on the first day of every month and Shakespeare on all the days in between.

Lawrence Durrell? Nothing much happens in 850 pages plus of The Alexandria Quartet, but it's cinematic writing, with a sense of place, that appeals to all five senses & puts the reader right into the narrator's shoes - which I think is what tends to captivate me as a reader.

Here's an extract from a few pages in:

'Six o'clock. The shuffling of white-robed figures from the station yards. The shops filling and emptying like lungs in the Rue des Soeurs. The pale lengthening rays of the afternoon sun smear the long curves of the Esplanade, and the dazzled pigeons, like rings of scattered paper, climb above the minarets to take the last rays of the waning lights on their wings. Ringing of silver on the money-changers' counters. The iron grille outside the bank still too hot to touch. Clip-clop of horse-drawn carriages carrying civil servants in red flowerpots towards the cafés on the sea-front. This is the hour least easy to bear, when from my balcony I catch an unexpected glimpse of her walking idly towards the town in her white sandals, still half-asleep. Justine! The city unwrinkles like an old tortoise and peers about it.'