Preserving the Integrity of Literature’s Humanity

by Adam Mitchell Bernard Bond on 16 December 2009

Man is com­posed of body and soul; he thinks and he acts; he has appetites, pas­sions, affec­tions, motives, designs; he has within him the life­long strug­gle of duty with incli­na­tion; he has an intel­lect fer­tile and capa­cious; he is formed for soci­ety, and soci­ety mul­ti­plies and diver­si­fies in end­less com­bi­na­tions his per­sonal char­ac­ter­is­tics, moral and intel­lec­tual. All this con­sti­tutes his life; of all this Lit­er­a­ture is the expres­sion; so that Lit­er­a­ture is to man in some sort what auto­bi­og­ra­phy is to the indi­vid­ual; it is his Life and Remains. — John Henry New­man, The Idea of a University

Liter­a­ture promises — if we shall per­mit it — to enlighten man’s under­stand­ing of him­self; act­ing as it does by virtue of its being a sec­ondary form of expe­ri­ence, gar­nered from the col­lec­tive obser­va­tions of mankind as a whole. It promises to inform our delib­er­a­tions with respect to our fel­low men. And it sup­plies the basic prin­ci­ples upon which we may develop a pol­icy, through which we may enter­tain a more human­is­tic approach toward each other. One that might be con­ducted in a spirit striv­ing for con­gruity and an appre­hen­sion of our com­mon traits.

An approach that may be couched in a sin­cere pur­suit of objec­tive truth — typ­i­fied by ortho­doxy, which we must untan­gle from its present asso­ci­a­tions that we might desire it for what it is, right opin­ion. If such is pos­si­ble. But what­ever the result of these inves­ti­ga­tions into the nature of truth, — whatever our for­mu­la­tions and con­vic­tions, Lit­er­a­ture allows us a win­dow into the coloured land­scape of man’s nature and allows us to tem­per our zeal for what we believe to be true with that char­ity, “with­out which ortho­doxy is vain; char­ity that ‘thin­keth no evil,’ but ‘hopeth all things,’ and ‘endureth all things’” (John­son 12, 305).

The fast­ness of my per­sua­sion con­cern­ing the above phi­los­o­phy has been drawn from a broad — but by no means extent — read­ing of Eng­lish Lit­er­a­ture, within and with­out the con­fines of so– called ortho­dox Chris­tian­ity. It has been derived from numer­ous icons of Lit­er­a­ture, both antique and con­tem­po­rary, and has ram­i­fi­ca­tions through­out my world­view and my pecu­liar approach to this pil­grim­age called life.

As the open­ing quote would indi­cate I am indebted to Dr John Henry New­man, whose Idea of a Uni­ver­sity so per­fectly har­mo­nized the demands and ori­en­ta­tion of an Oxford-​model edu­ca­tion within the con­text of the Roman Church’s par­tic­u­lar sys­tem of val­ues. It also deals with the oblig­a­tion of a uni­ver­sity in prepar­ing a stu­dent for life by the read­ing of Literature.

I might pref­ace my fur­ther remarks by con­ced­ing that while Lit­er­a­ture is most effec­tive in the pur­pose thus assigned to it, that is, when it is a “mir­ror of life” which exhibits “the world in its true form” shew­ing us “what we are to expect” (John­son 7, 126), its effi­cacy as an instru­ment to that end has too often been damp­ened by ide­o­log­i­cal designs to purify it of all wicked­ness and bap­tise it into a plas­ter saint. This is typ­i­cally by way of cen­sor­ship or coer­cion as has hereto­fore been demon­strated by the long march of his­tory. Need requires only a few, select exam­ples to sat­isfy: the Index Libro­rum Pro­hibito­rum of Roman Catholi­cism, the Soviet Glavlit, the con­fis­ca­tion and par­tial destruc­tion of Friar Bernardino de Sahagún’s Flo­ren­tine Codex, the puri­tan­i­cal burn­ing of Thomas Hobbes in effigy and print at Oxford in the late sev­en­teenth cen­tury, &c.

This will­ful abuse of Lit­er­a­ture and neglect of its merit – a merit iden­ti­fied and pro­moted by Dr New­man – has only suc­ceeded in divert­ing men from orga­nized gov­ern­ment and reli­gion, rather than fos­ter­ing an “igno­rance is bliss” devo­tion. Nev­er­the­less, I believe that with the assis­tance of those fig­ures most influ­en­tial to my own con­vic­tions in regard to this sub­ject, I have been suc­cess­ful in suf­fi­ciently con­vinc­ing myself that such a dichotomy between Reli­gion and an open­ness to real­ity within Lit­er­a­ture — rather than an affected ide­al­ism — can be resolved.

New­man argues against an ideal, eth­i­cally unbur­dened Lit­er­a­ture, by impress­ing upon his read­ers that it is,

…a con­tra­dic­tion in terms to attempt a sin­less Lit­er­a­ture of sin­ful man. You may gather together some­thing very great and high, some­thing higher than any Lit­er­a­ture ever was; and when you have done so, you will find that it is not Lit­er­a­ture at all. You will have sim­ply left the delin­eation of man, as such, and have sub­sti­tuted for it, as far as you have had any thing to sub­sti­tute, that of man, as he is or might be, under cer­tain spe­cial advan­tages (New­man 229).

A Lit­er­a­ture devoid of man’s folly, his fre­quent wicked­ness, and his incom­pe­tence is a Lit­er­a­ture with­out human­ity — for human­ity is of its nature defectable, fal­li­ble, and imper­fect. What can we learn from Utopian ideals, but that they will always crum­ble beneath man’s incon­stancy? The Judæo-​Christian scrip­tures are “prof­itable for doc­trine, for reproof, for cor­rec­tion, [and] for instruc­tion in right­eous­ness,” (II Tim­o­thy 3 : 16) because they treat of man as he is and not as he should ide­ally be . They con­de­scend to teach by way of our iniq­ui­ties and trans­port us to a plane wherein we may fea­si­bly strug­gle against such incli­na­tions as beset us.

That we must enter into — as William Law advised — a “catholic affec­tion” for all mankind and delight in truth “…wher­ever it shines, or from what quar­ter it comes,” seems to me com­pelling. Like Pro­fes­sors Lewis and Tolkien we must acknowl­edge it Goethe’s words that “Lit­er­a­ture is a frag­ment of a frag­ment,” but it con­tains within its aus­pices a vision of real­ity that while being flawed ulti­mately edi­fies. Nei­ther Vergil nor Cicero is irrel­e­vant for the Chris­t­ian, nei­ther Augus­tine nor Aquinas is incon­se­quent to the Sec­u­lar Mate­ri­al­ist, the Qu’ran and Rab­bini­cal Tal­muds are not ger­mane if the Bud­dhist monk really seeks holis­tic fulfillment.

Whether we finally dis­miss a por­tion of the canon or not, each por­tion of our Lit­er­ary inher­i­tance is a valu­able asset that must be mined for those sliv­ers of truth that might enlighten and guide us in our mutual co– devel­op­ment as mem­bers of a sorely divided race. In study­ing Eng­lish Let­ters I am con­vinced that my con­tri­bu­tion to that diverse fab­ric will be one of will­ing­ness and open­ness to learn, to live, and to thrive by giv­ing a vote to the most obscure of all sets, our pre­de­ces­sors. Hav­ing taken that poll and illu­mi­nated our present con­di­tion with the par­al­lels of the past, per­haps we can avoid those mis­takes which thwarted our best efforts to co– exist peace­ably and plunged us into end­less conflict.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

John­son, Samuel. The Works of Samuel John­son. New Ed. Lon­don: A. Stra­ban, 1801.

New­man, John Henry. The Idea of a Uni­ver­sity. Rev. Ed. Lon­don: Long­mans, Green, & Co., 1907.

The PDF file that was sub­mit­ted through the Com­mon Appli­ca­tion and the Sup­ple­men­tal Writ­ing Port­fo­lio accom­pa­ny­ing it can be found here and here, respec­tively.

{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }

Mr. WAC 16 December 2009 at 10:33 am

Alto­gether very good. My only sug­ges­tion for this and future col­lege writ­ing is that you use stan­dard, mod­ern, Amer­i­can spelling and gram­mar (bap­tize rather than bap­tise) to avoid the impres­sion that you are a lit­er­ate fussy-​pants or eccen­tric (even if you are, you don’t want to give those in author­ity the impres­sion that you are.)

Also, per­son­ally, I’d replace “i.e.” with “that is” where it appears in the fifth para­graph for the sake of ease of readability.

Just the sug­ges­tions of a man who spent too much time in school.

Best Luck,
WAC

Adam M. B. Bond, Esq. 16 December 2009 at 5:29 pm

Thank you, Mr Cubbedge,

I tai­lored this essay to the “charism” of the schools to which I am apply­ing. Ulti­mately, it will remain as it is within the con­text of this forum, but I am always forced to “Amer­i­can­ize” before sub­mit­ting such things… since I rarely depart from a strict ren­der­ing of Fowler’s Eng­lish, do so nat­u­rally and not delib­er­ately, and need always scan and mod­ify to bring it up to stan­dard. As for the Id Est, I agree… I did have “That is,” but it looked tex­tu­ally messy, so I swapped it out. Eh, I’ll prob­a­bly re-​replace it again, because you are right… unfor­tu­nately no one delights in academia’s tra­di­tion of Latin acronym and abbre­vi­a­tion. Oh, well, at least I no longer invert sin­gle and dou­ble quo­ta­tion marks. “[L]iterate fussy-​pants or eccen­tric”? How did you guess?

Cor­dially,
Mr Fussy-​pants

Peter James Etherington, Esquire 16 December 2009 at 8:45 pm

The police have been copulated.

Adam M. B. Bond, Esq. 16 December 2009 at 8:46 pm

Is that sup­posed to be a cryp­tic mark of approval, Mr E?

Mr. WAC 17 December 2009 at 4:21 pm

I think that is an NWA lyric, ret­ro­graded in order to com­ply with this blog’s style guide.

Gerard Wilson 17 December 2009 at 5:24 pm

Well-​chosen theme and a great open­ing quo­ta­tion from John Henry New­man. I have no prob­lem with the broad range of lit­er­a­ture you allow and agree that sani­tis­ing books and sub­ject mat­ter in the way you out­line is to deprive lit­er­a­ture of its ben­e­fits. My crit­i­cism would focus on the expres­sion. In past pieces you have mim­ic­ked 18th cen­tury Eng­lish style sur­pris­ingly well with a nice touch of your idio­syn­cratic irony. The essay you are asked to write as part of the col­lege appli­ca­tion process calls for, I believe, ‘plain Eng­lish’. I think you under­stand this because there is a sort of schiz­o­phrenic tus­sle between this con­scious­ness and your incli­na­tion to go on in an 18th cen­tury mode. It doesn’t work. The open­ing para­graph is espe­cially con­vo­luted. Books on plain Eng­lish will advise the writer to keep the sen­tences short with­out too many sub­or­di­nate clauses. Clar­ity is the object rather than indi­vid­ual style. They also advise to keep clear of woolly Latin-​based words in favour of the con­crete Germanic/​Anglo-​Saxon word, for exam­ple, ‘truth’ instead of ‘verisimil­i­tude’. I also agree that you should stick to Amer­i­can spelling. As you can imag­ine, I felt a lit­tle shud­der as I wrote that rec­om­men­da­tion. But it is all about the appro­pri­ate style of writ­ing to the pur­pose in hand. I hope I do not sound too crit­i­cal. It is best to read crit­i­cism in this space than not to hear it going on in the head of the reader of applications.

Adam M. B. Bond, Esq. 17 December 2009 at 11:09 pm

I think that you are cor­rect Mr Cubbedge, in fact – since it is an inside joke – I am cer­tain that you are correct.

Thank you, Ger­ard, the strug­gle between my incli­na­tions and what is appro­pri­ate ulti­mately led me to make the appro­pri­ate emmendments.

I too felt that the first para­graph was con­vo­luted, I have made it less so. I suf­fer from too fre­quent use of the sub­or­di­nate clause, as you know. I have nei­ther the time nor the energy to make it any “plainer” than it already is. For­tu­nately, the col­leges to which I am apply­ing should not mind too awfully much.

I have made other alter­ations and I hope that they are suf­fi­cient, as it must be sub­mit­ted tomorrow.

Thank you all for your crit­i­cism, it was appreciated.

Mr. WAC 18 December 2009 at 12:12 am

Mr. Bond-​I, too, had a mis­spent youth.

All– Let’s go easy on our young edi­tor. While his writ­ing may be styl­is­tic and may, to some, come off as strained or affected, it is obvi­ously the writ­ing of a well-​read deep thinker, and the peo­ple read­ing this essay will get that. They will also get the fact that, while the author writes like he’s 268-​years-​old, he is not yet (mark this!) even a Fesh­man. The acad­emy has years to refine his syn­tax, get him to use the active voice, and, gen­er­ally, make him as dull as a bag of hammers.

Gerard Wilson 18 December 2009 at 3:32 am

I am not com­fort­able with the role of the gra­tu­itous unfeel­ing critic. Come on, Mitch, defend me. You did par­tic­u­larly ask me for ‘frank com­men­tary’ and ‘blunt protes­ta­tions’, did you not? I would not have said any­thing unless I had been asked.

Adam M. B. Bond, Esq. 18 December 2009 at 8:12 am

Indeed, Mr Cubbedge, I was not so much sug­gest­ing that you would be unfa­mil­iar, but that you are not expected to be famil­iar… but your guess was at least very good. Mis­spent youth, yes, that is a good description.

Thank you, for your sup­port, by the way, though I did ask Mr Wil­son to be brutal.

Fur­ther­more, Mr Wil­son, you are not to be held to blame and I thank you for being brutal.

Mr. WAC 18 December 2009 at 12:35 pm

As I was a teenager when the album “Straight Outta Comp­ton” was released, and you were most likely not alive, why would you not expect me to be famil­iar? It is I who, in jus­tice, should be amazed that your gen­er­a­tion is fam­i­lier with The Bards of South Central.

But a clas­sic never dies, I suppose.

And, by the way, were one to steal my iPhone, one might find there rem­nants of my mis­spent youth.

Adam M. B. Bond, Esq. 18 December 2009 at 2:54 pm

Hello, chaps,

Since I now see that you wrote that you are “not com­fort­able” play­ing the role of “cruel, cal­lous, uncar­ing Cer­berus”… Wait? Oops, I see that you wrote, “gra­tu­itous unfeel­ing critic.” That’s my mis­take. I won­der where I got that lit­tle piece of allit­er­a­tion from, maybe the back of break­fast cereal box?

Any­way, since you did ask me to defend you in your uncom­fort­able state, I will – because you are right. A “schiz­o­phrenic tus­sle” between so-​called “plain” Eng­lish and my typ­i­cal styl­is­tic choices is occur­ring in the above piece, which still needs to be edited a lit­tle bit.

I find that when I write nat­u­rally and tap what­ever source of inspi­ra­tion it is that serves me, no mat­ter the style it does not seem “strained or affected,” how­ever, even though the under­ly­ing ideas came to me with very lit­tle dif­fi­culty, the writ­ing them out­side of my typ­i­cal style (which owes more to New­man, that to Strunk & White) left every­thing very out of sorts and unhappy with itself. If this essay were sen­tient and ratio­nal it would prob­a­bly be like those peo­ple with gender-​identification issues and I’m sure it’d be soz­zled to the gills on most occasions.

As for the painful­ness of Amer­i­can­i­sa­tion, I just realised I for­got to do so.. so I must before I sub­mit it. I wouldn’t worry Ger­ard, the archival ver­sion will be pre­served in it’s unspot­ted British­ness or Brutish­ness, depend­ing on whether your slip­ping into a pud­dle of Freud or not.

As for know­ing the N.W.A. (Negroes with Affec­ta­tions) and the album We’ve Come Directly From Ol’ Comp­ton, I plead igno­rance and shame­fully admit a cur­sory aware­ness, indi­cated by the fol­low­ing lyric (excuse the tyranny of my House Style and how very dog­gerel the fol­low­ing verses are):

We’ve enjoy’d a com­merce,
Sodomy, though it be,
We’ve cop­u­lated Offi­cers,
Off Plat­form Twenty-​three.

They think that we are dark,
As black as a tinker’s pot,
Nigres­cent and not Lily White,
And wor­thy to be shot.

By Jupiter, I curse the Law,
I tell it that Miranda’s dead,
The Rights that I’m suppos’d to have,
Snapped like the Fate’s por­ten­tous thread.

They roundly sock me in the face,
Those silly hel­mets on their heads,
The billy club, the badge, the gun.
Can they com­pare to a Negro’s dreads?

Let’s pro­cre­ate in their face,
Your’re jus­tah patsy in liv-​er-​y,
Waitin’ to get shot by an ol’ Tommy,
Whose firin’ Mar­tini just doesn’t agree.

For those who have no idea what the above mad­ness is, it’s based on a song called “F – k tha Police” by N.W.A. (Niggaz wit Atti­tude), rant­ing about police bru­tal­ity and the ill treat­ment of minorities.

By the way, “Tommy” refers to Thomas Atkins – the stock-​name for a British sol­dier – many of whom were malign’d sim­ply for being sol­diers, not least of all those natives serv­ing that were Negroes. Fur­ther­more, a Martini-​Henry was a rifle used by Great Britain and Her Domin­ions in the Sec­ond Anglo-​Afghan War, the Anglo-​Zulu War, the Boer War, the Mahdist War, World War I, &c.

Affec­tion­ately,
Mitch

Peter James Etherington, Esquire 18 December 2009 at 7:22 pm

Frankly, Mr Bond, your essay is among the finest mine eyes have beheld, my stom­ach rubbed against, and mine engorged flabby chin displaced.

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