Oh god yes. I'm currently so frustrated with a culture who is bent on being able to say, authoritatively, what a work of art *is* because the point is that art needs the room to be not completely knowable, so you can let yourself have the gift of thinking about what you're unsure of.
I remember reading Shane Book’s “Congotronic” and being utterly bewildered. But it still left me transformed. The frontal lobe is overrated when it comes to art.
I wonder about the idea that great artworks can be pinned down like butterflies in a display case. Works like the Odyssey, the Mona Lisa, Hamlet and the "Eroica" Symphony speak to people today not because they've been wrung dry of meaning, but because people continue to derive new meaning from them.
Finally letting go of the poison of trying to make everything firm, logical and understandable in what I read and watched has been a source of joy. Before, I treated it as a failure of authorial skill, not as authorial intent. Letting go of sure answers and neat stories tied in a bow was so freeing
I LOVE books and movies and poems where I’m like “I have no idea what’s going on but oh boy oh man am I entertained rn”. I love these a lot more than stuff where I understand everything but it’s kind of dull
I think this is one reason why I enjoy well-written horror. Fantasy currently has this habit of over-explaining everything, but the uncertainty is often essential in horror. Remove the uncertainty and it ceases to be scary.