Was piqued almost to the point of saying something last night, but I was drunk. Whatever, it is a new day in uber-snow-challenged London, and so a fast word, amiably consequential upon reading this from Paul Raven:
Beauty is subjective and objective at once, and trying to define it universally is a fruitless effort; understanding how and why beauty arises from our interaction with the universe and the things within it is probably one of the greatest civilisational goals we could aspire to. But you may want to take this with a large pinch of salt, because I have been re-reading Zen & The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance again recently, and it has a very long-lasting and pervasive influence on my philosophy of aesthetics… 😉
I think it is probably when we try to unpack what we mean by “interaction with the universe and the things within it” — as being “one of the greatest civilisational goals we could aspire to” — that we come closest to what focuses my own take on things: that basically fantastika has no choice but to interact with the universe, if by the universe we mean the necessary grasping to planet-time that marks the fantastika fuzzy set. Which is to say that the only subjective intuition inwards to the ho ho ho innards sweetness of the interior whatness of Seeing Through to Truth that counts is that kind of intuition that also grasps where and when we are, or at least admits that we are here or dead. So I do myself distrust “interaction with the universe”, as the phrase hints to strongly of the transcendental, a whatness I cannot find the route to.
So style in sf is anything we can achieve in words that are storyable with our placement here.