Literary snobbery
There is a very real temptation (at least in me), in the pursuit of God, and the enjoyment of great literature, to become a literary snob. I think that the best way to battle this danger is by being intimately acquainted with the marks of great literature. Then they are the measure of a piece of literature, and not whether it was written by a particular person, or in a particular era. I think that this protects from chronological snobbery in both directions (preferring the old to the new, or the new to the old), and forces us to engage in real dialogue rather than simply dismissing those pieces that are not recognized as classics without a hearing.
So, what are those criteria? By what marks do we recognize great literature?
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6 comments:
Could you define literary snobbery?"
Differences abound...between:
People that act like they know what they're talking about and people that actually know what they're talking about.
People who judge objectively and people who judge subjectively.
People who judge objectively but more universally accepted standards and those who judge objectively by narrow or biased standards. (For example, filtering through a Christian worldview.)
There's also the factor of how people perceive vs the reality. Is the snobbery based on the framework for judging, the attitude and/or motives for the judging, the perception of others, the literary judge's self-evaluation of competence to judge...the list could probably go on quite a bit longer.
I was looking up on Amazon.com a commentary recommended by desiringGod Ministries, a series that published a commentary by a former college professor of mine. In the customer review section, it received high praise from multiple individuals but one very seriously panned it. Claiming to own over 20 commentaries on the same portion of Scripture, he'd rate it in the bottom 25%. He proceeded to list (what sounded like) plausible reasons for his position.
Was he being a literary snob? I thought he probably was based on the names that I know and trust that affirmed it.
Of course, one could question that standard of evaluating it as well.
I'm not sure how helpful the above thoughts are other than to illustrate how convoluted the entire question is in my mind.
I think there is a danger in either direction: one can become a literary snob, and scorn anything that doesn't meet a set of narrow (and often vain) prerequisites; or one can become an aesthetic relativist, and affirm that taste is simply a matter of personal preference, nothing more. Either is false to the God who is the creator of truth, beauty, and goodness. (And this goes for any kind of art - visual, dramatic, film, music...)
Beauty is not simply relative. If it is, there is no such thing as true beauty - and it doesn't really matter if I prefer Britney Spears to Bach, or the Da Vinci Code to the Divine Comedy. On the othe hand, it isn't true that just because something is old or revered that it is more worthy than the new or innovative. I think it is true that what we find compelling about the "classics", however, will show up in some form or another in newer works.
Flannery O'Connor has been immensely helpful to me on this question. She wrote, "St Augustine wrote that the things of the world pour forth from God in a double way: intellectually into the minds of the angels and physically into the world of things. To the person who believes this...this physical, sensible world is good because it proceeds from a divine source. The artist usually know this by instinct; his senses, which are used to penetrate the concrete, tell him so. When Conrad said that his aim as an artist was to render the highest possible justice to the visible universe, he was speaking with the novelist's surest instinct. The artist penetrates the concrete world in order to find at its depths the image of its source, the image of ultimate reality."
How well, in other words, does a work body forth the image of ultimate reality - what is really true about the world, abour our condition as human beings? This has to be our measure, I think, of great literature - and it winds up being an extremely broad measure, as broad as truth itself. I can see "greats" like Homer, Dante, Dostoevsky, Eliot, Shakespeare, Auden, Dickens, Tolstoy and Austen fitting under the same umbrella as more recent authors like Andre Dubus, James Agee, Marilynne Robinson, and Wallace Stegner.
This doesn't, as O'Connor, preclude honest and often disturbing reflection on evil; in fact, one of the greatest sins of much popular Christian fiction is that it doesn't look evil squarely in the face, and by failing to do so, lets it off the hook. I'd much rather read an unbeliever who testifies to the true extent of human evil (say, Faulkner) or who is willing to honestly assess the consequences of a world without God (Wallace Stevens, maybe) than an overly pious novel where the heroine's greatest struggle is finding a consistent quiet time.
Rather a long response, but (as a teacher of literature), I think you've asked a great question, Graham. I'd love to continue the conversation!
I love the question and the discussion. If I had one contribution, I would affirm what has already been said by Sarah - great literature tackles and enlightens us on the human condition (John Paton is blushingly poignant and untouchable on this point). My fear more than being a snob is being a dunce when it comes to literature. I fear not being able to see the "greatness" in a work, and thus, not being able to learn from it. I don't get Dostoevsky at all (he paints too much in the corners and I want plot - I think I need someone to translate even the English to me). Shakespeare is great, of course, but I think many people like him (and he's considered a classic) because of his ingenuity/creativity with his craft, not necessarily for any insight he may contribute. Kind of like modern movies that are praised for their use of lighting or cinematography, regardless of their message. I don't mean to throw Shakespeare in with the likes of Martin Scorsese, but culturally I wonder if there is something to compare. Again, I fear being a dunce, so I will practice the old adage "even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent."
Thanks, all, for your input. Two thoughts occurred to me as I read:
1. Flannery O'Connor's "image of ultimate reality" reminds me of Paul's description of Jesus in Colossians 1, "the image of the invisible God." I don't think it is by accident that the greatest artists (of any media) represent this great image of ultimate reality.
2. As I read Sarah's preference for someone who tells the truth about evil over obsession with a quiet time, I couldn't help but see the connection to worship music. Is that not the reason that much of it rings hollow - not because it is not true, but because it shows such a small sliver of reality, with little of the weight of glory or the misery of evil?
I read this whole exchange a few days ago and thoroughly enjoyed it but refrained from commenting for the reason given in John's last line. But something that you said in your response, Graham, compelled me to leave a comment. But first, my thoughts on great literature. Simpleton speaks: To be great it's got to touch on the human condition in a way that transcends culture, time and class (for lack of a better word). What I mean by that is that it would equally touch and move a ditchdigger and a doctor.
I think another criteria would be it's ability to disturb (in the good sense),linger, and/or lift your heart on wings and fly it about the room in moments of absolute transcendance.
Now, to what you said that spurred me to comment - I could not agree more with your point on contemporary worship music. It seems like all the songwriters these days are in a contest to see who can gush breathlessly in the most ecstatic of ways without hyperventilating. It has reached the point to where it feels dishonest(and this from someone prone to breathless gushing). On the bright side, every time we sing a hymn, the honesty, beauty, and timelessness of the words shine out in stark relief to the contemporary music.
Three quick examples of current songs that I feel buck the recent trend towards greeting card-like shallowness and are therefore worth mentioning.
"You give and take away, you give and take away/ my heart will choose to say/ Lord, blessed be your name." -Matt Redman
"How long oh Lord must I wrestle with my thoughts/ and every day have such sorrow in my heart/ Look on me and answer/ Oh God my Father/ Bring light to my darkness before they see me fall/ But I trust in your unfailing love/ Yes my heart will rejoice/ Still I sing of your unfailing love/ you have been good/ you will be good to me." - Brian Doerksen (from Psalm 13)
And my favorite, in it's entirety - a simple, honest love song of faith amidst the storms of doubt. "Whom have I but you? Whom have I but you? Though the mountains fall, they fall into the sea, though the colored dawn may turn to shades of grey. Though the questions asked may never be resolved." -David Ruis
I love how Ditchdigger's recommendations show how to avoid snobbery.
The marks of beauty can be found, and celebrated, in a way that holds the potential of affecting change in the wider community without saying, "It has to come ____ time period, or from this or that composer or author."
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