Not Just a Matter of Taste

Contemporary versus Classic

Let me state at the beginning, that I prefer classic literature. I don't just prefer it in the sense that some people claim to subscribe to Scientific American, or Smithsonian Magazine out of mere pretence. I truly prefer great literature. I would much rather read Charles Dickens than Tom Clancy, Jane Austen than Nora Roberts, and Fyodor Dostoyevsky than Stephen King. Even though some contemporary writers have skills that I envy—A. S. Byatt and Anne Tyler's names spring readily to mind—there is something missing in contemporary literature.

Contemporary writers all show the strain of trying to compete with television, movies, CDs and electronic games for the reader's attention. The worst writers aim at shock and the better writers at awe, but it is all just a scramble for attention. The difference between contemporary and classical literature is much like the difference between fast food and a seven course meal.

Classic authors had the luxury of assuming that readers wanted to savor every chapter, every paragraph, every word. You can see this in the leisurely pace of their writing, the richness of their vocabulary, the complexity of their sentence structure and their bountiful collections of characters. They took the time to casually introduce character and setting with extensive, and often poetic descriptive passages.

Classic authors revealed themselves in their writing through a unique author's voice. The narrator was our friend and guide, and as such could be as important to the reader as any of the characters. They weren't afraid to reveal their personality through witty observations, philosophical reflections and unabashedly biased statements. They did not live to observe Hemingway's shudder, and so did not shy away from adjectives and adverbs, but used every form of speech to its fullest extent.

Classic authors liberally seasoned their stories with metaphor, symbolism, and irony, but they understood that the meat of any story was morality. A hero, to be truly honorable, needed to be good even given his human foibles. A villain might have comprehensible motivation, but the choices he made were reprehensible. These authors were untainted by the modernist trend toward moral relativism. They made it clear that compassion, unselfishness and benevolence were preferable to contempt, selfishness and tyranny. Their stories uplift and inspire us.

The Skill of Reading

It is a lamentable fact that not all people can enjoy the beautiful symmetry of a mathematical equation, the exhilaration of skiing safely down a steep downhill run, or the complex harmony of classical music. Yet, we cannot say that the inability to enjoy these wonders has to do with taste. A person must come to these fields with a certain level of aptitude in order to enter into that field's pleasures. In addition, they must hone their skills through years of study and practice. The same principle applies to reading classic literature.

In America today, nearly everyone has learned to read and write to a certain extent, so that most people believe that they are sufficiently prepared to tackle any reading opportunity. Statistical studies have made it clear that the average person today reads at a sixth grade level of comprehension. For this reason, contemporary newspapers and magazines pander to the average person by targeting their writing for this lower level of reading ability. This means that most people are not being challenged to expand their ability to read, but settle into a pattern of reading at an elementary level all of their lives.

In contrast, newspapers and other publications from the past were written on the assumption that their very nature as a supplier of information made them responsible to educate their readers. They did not shy away from big words, complex sentences or extended discourses. Readers knew that they were responsible to look up words they did not recognize, and work through the complex ideas by slow and repeated readings. The arguments in editorials and in lectures of the day were painstaking and thorough. It was not unheard of to have sermons and political speeches last for hours at a time. This high level of writing is reflected in the books of the period as well.

The contemporary reader, with a mere elementary level of reading comprehension, does not have sufficient skill to enjoy classic literature. When they read a classic author, naturally they find him difficult to understand. Since they are accustomed to have the publisher pander to their diminished ability, they become frustrated. They do not consider their own insufficient education, but criticize the author for not making himself clear to them. When pressed to explain why an author, who has the status of our classic authors, is incomprehensible to them they claim that the style is not after their taste.

Such readers will claim that they just prefer the quicker pace of most contemporary fiction, just as they prefer the quicker pace of popular music. However, I would point out that so does a two year old. The short attention span of a toddler is one measure of its immaturity. With greater education, one can expect to develop a longer attention span, and so an appreciation of those works that require greater concentration.

Those who enjoy classic literature have worked for years to gain the skills needed to read at a more mature level. They understand that one cannot acquire the strength to scale a mountain by strolling on flat ground, so they do not avoid difficult reading. They take the time to look up unfamiliar words, and study histories to understand the context. They read broadly and extensively, because they know that the more they study the better they will be able to comprehend what they read. They understand that it takes greater effort to read a great book, but that the rewards are commensurate with the effort involved. With time and practice, they learn to focus for longer periods of time, to notice subtleties and nuances, to comprehend broader connotations and to appreciate allusions that those who have read less extensively cannot see.

Indeed, those who have mastered the skills and knowledge involved in reading at a college level find contemporary sixth grade writing to be quite annoying. It is as evident to them when they are being "written down to" as when they are being "talked down to," and they find this patronizing style offensive. When one becomes accustomed to the predominance of complex sentences in classic works, the absence of complex sentences makes the writing seem to be at a breathless, frantic pace. There is no relaxation in such reading; every paragraph feels like a car chase, with each chopped sentence leading to the next in a breakneck fury of words. Classic authors knew that short sentence structure could be useful for creating tension when appropriate to the subject, but was most effective when kept to a minimum. Going back to the complex sentence structure of the classics is like sitting back with your feet up in a favorite recliner and contemplating the deeper meaning of life.

The length of classic literature intimidates the less educated reader, but comforts the college level reader. As C. S. Lewis said, "There is no such thing as a book too long or a cup of tea too deep." If you thoroughly enjoy reading a book, why would you want to cut that pleasure short?

The Pleasures of Rereading

The average reader looks for mere entertainment in their books. If a book ceases to entertain, and requires work, they lose interest. As C. S. Lewis pointed out, one sign of an inadequately educated reader is that they rarely reread a book. If they realize that they have already read a book, they will toss it aside like a used napkin. They know how the book ends, so they cannot imagine that it might be informative, suspenseful, adventurous or even romantic again.

In all honestly, most books do not reward rereading. Most contemporary literature is like an amusing anecdote. It may delight on the first telling, but grows stale in the retelling. The punch line can only surprise us once. There must be more to a novel than plot twists and suspense.

Classic literature has much in common with classical music. One would never listen to a classical music album one time and then cast it aside. In order to appreciate the complexity of this music, it requires repeated listening. We recognize that with each repetition of the experience our appreciation for the piece expands. Study of the techniques of musical composition can add even fuller appreciation for the mastery and skill required to produce those marvelous sounds. Those who, jaded by the quick pace of popular music, lack the patience to sit through a full symphony will never experience the rewards that such music can offer.

Lovers of classic literature have discovered the rewards of rereading. Since they have a basic familiarity with the plot structure and characters, they no longer focus entirely on those matters that consumed their attention on the first reading. They notice more and more the subtle details of word choice and symbolism. They become more aware of the implications of the story, how it reveals human nature and the broader human experience. They delight in the foreshadowing of incidents further into the story. They notice how small choices accumulate into larger consequences.

Rereading a classic novel is like visiting with an old friend. The same joy that we find in reminiscing about old times can be found in revisiting favorite books. Familiar characters, dialog, plot and settings play in the readers mind like a familiar refrain, becoming more precious with each retelling. Over time, the reader will find themselves growing more sympathetic with the main characters, and even to characters that they would not have considered sympathetic before. The more mature reader will find the wisdom accumulated over time makes them better prepared to appreciate classic authors, who lived in a more contemplative age and whose writing reflects their keen insight.

Style and Personality

To denigrate the skill of a great writer by calling it a matter of taste is to denigrate education. It is not a matter of taste to have a large vocabulary as opposed to a limited one. It is not a matter of taste to have mastery of syntax, or to be inept in its use. It is not a matter of taste to be able to use vivid imagery, instead of stumbling into clichés. The brighter and better educated the author, the more demand they will put upon the reader.

That being said, not every well-educated reader will enjoy every classic book to the same extent. The Bronte sisters disliked Jane Austen's style. Henry James disliked Charles Dickens' style. The less educated reader considers these squabbles among the classic authors as evidence that taste truly does factor into the judgment of great literature. However, likening these authorial preferences to taste does nothing to clarify these differences of opinion.

It is more instructive to consider these preferences as reflections of the personality and philosophy of the authors. The passionate and pessimistic Brontes found Austen too rational and optimistic. The flamboyant and extroverted Dickens did not accord well with James' austere introversion.

In addition, different ages of literature favored certain philosophies of life and reflected that preference in their works. This can be seen in other artistic endeavors of the time as well. Bach's mathematical precision reflects the age of Enlightenment in which he lived, and Beethoven's passionate expression reflects the age of Romanticism, just as Austen reflects Enlightenment thinking and the Brontes reflect Romanticism.

These differences are not an excuse to prefer one author and ignore the other, as mere taste would be. They present a challenge to the reader to study the life and the time of the author. We study their life in order to be able to see how their personality and unique experiences colored their works. We study the time in order to see how their culture is reflected in their works. Then we study their works to see to what extent they were able to escape the limitations of their personality and culture.

The reader should not be surprised to find that some authors are more congenial to their personality, just as some people are easier to get along with in life. However, to limit our reading to favored authors would be akin to trying to limit our social encounters to friends alone. The one cripples our reading ability, as the other cripples our social skills. A good reader learns to appreciate the strengths of every good writer, and to discern which authors are worth more of our time.

Conclusion

In order to keep fit, a person is required to exercise regularly. Few people today are unaware of this fact, and many enter into an exercise program knowing that it must be a lifelong commitment. Nor would they expect to be able to perform athletic feats like steep downhill skiing without a good deal of rigorous training. In the era when classic literature was written, it was not uncommon for a person to enter into a course of reading as contemporary people enter into an exercise program, knowing that lifelong learning is necessary for continued mental fitness.

Reading should not be relegated to the category of entertainment, but must be understood to be a matter of continuing education. With this attitude nobody would scoff at the classics as being not after their taste, but would aspire to attain a reading ability that would allow them to enjoy classic novels most fully. In addition, they will continue to study the works of the great philosophers, historians and political thinkers of the past in order to be able to comprehend the basis of our thinking today. Great literature demands a great mind to fully appreciate it, and we must continually seek to attain that goal.

Jane Eyre and the Perils of Feminist Deconstruction

It has become popular in recent times to read Jane Eyre from a feminist perspective, and to blame Rochester for the death of Bertha, his first wife. Ever since Derrida encouraged the literary world to look askance at authors' conscious intent, people have been second guessing the classics, and Jane Eyre has been more abused than most. A reinterpretation of Jane Eyre was the foundation of a nuanced, scholarly tomb titled The Madwoman in the Attic by Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar. In it they speculated that Charlotte Bronte was projecting her own resentment toward men on the figure of Rochester's first wife. This deconstructionist/feminist version blames patriarchal society for causing female writers of the nineteenth century to repress their rebellious, demanding, questioning natures. This then, according to their theory, came out in their writing as a dichotomy of female images: the saintly, prim and proper wifely types (like Jane), and the aggressive, hostile, irrepressible madwomen (like Bertha).

Then Jean Rhys' The Wide Sargasso Sea told the story of Rochester's first marriage from Bertha’s point of view. The assumption in this text is that men resent women who are deeply passionate, so much so that they consider them freaks and lunatics. In this text the problem isn't the women at all, but the men who feel threatened by strong women. Rhys' interpretation of the story might be summed up by saying that men's repressed castration anxiety causes them to project this fear onto assertive women, and then they cause hysterical and aggressive responses from a woman as they seek to control her (in this case by locking her up). In essence, she's saying that the first Mrs. Rochester is every oppressed woman.

The latest version that I’ve heard was that Rochester actually set his house on fire himself (instead of Bertha starting the fire, as suggested by the original text), in order to rid himself of that pesky woman. This is very much in line with the tradition of feminist readings of Jane Eyre. These radical interpretations make sense, if you see Rochester as a despicable husband who can't wait to rid himself of his hated burden. With no witnesses to accuse him, and all of the power of patriarchy behind him, why not do the expedient thing?

However, I believe that those who adore Jane Eyre would find this reading reprehensible. The mysterious, commanding, melancholy image of Rochester that we see speaks to us of his self-repression. The fire at Thornfield was not his first chance of ridding himself of that insane woman. He could have conveniently nudged her over the edge of the ship's deck on their voyage to England. He could have poisoned her, or denied her food and the warmth of a fire, or simply neglected her more subtly until she sickened and died, instead of providing her with a gentle keeper to care for her. Such things were certainly done in the Gothic novels of Bronte's time (see, for example, The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe).

The fact that Rochester kept his wife, and merely brooded about his ill fortune, brands him as the quintessential gentleman. Every woman craves a man who is strong enough to slay dragons for her, but that is tender and morally strong enough to deny himself for her sake. Rochester represents this dream. Take that away, and Jane Eyre loses all appeal except to a few feminist critics.

Austen on Masterpiece Classic

I've read all of Austen's books multiple times, and adore her. I enjoyed the BBC/A&E version of Pride and Prejudice. It was very well done, as well (I think) as a book adaptation can be done. So, of course, I watched the Masterpiece Classic series when they produced movie versions of her more famous novels. However, I must admit that I have mixed feelings about the series. On the one hand, the films have been romantically stirring. I cry when boy gets girl every time. I also have no problem identifying with the characters, and feeling with them through all of their highs and lows. Yet, I find that there has been so much modernization of the sensibilities of the characters that I can't help but feel that Austen herself would be appalled at some of what they've done with her work.

Persuasion in particular seemed to have reversed what Austen was trying to say with her text. The scene in which Louisa falls was handled as an accident that did no more than make Captain Wentworth aware that he had shown her too much attention and had made it seem to all concerned parties that he wanted to marry her. In the text, it is this, but so much more. Captain Wentworth has been thinking that Anne was too persuadable, and should have had a stronger will. He felt that her passion for him should have overridden any other consideration. He has been holding up Louisa as closer to his ideal of strong-willed womanhood. When Louisa falls, it is due entirely to her willful nature, her unwillingness to be persuaded by more rational minds. Captain Wentworth learns from this to value Anne's ability to subjugate her will to rational decision. Anne's ability to rein in her passions, weigh the opinions of others, and make a decision based on which is more rationally persuasive is indeed a noble virtue.

In this movie version, they make it seem that Anne is the one who has to change. She admits in the end to having been too persuadable, and insists that she will never be so open to persuasion again. All of the lovely romance seems slightly tainted for me at this point. Because, for me, as I believe for Austen, the whole point of Persuasion is that Captain Wentworth has to come to truly value what he's getting in Anne! Anne is perfection itself, and it is he who needs to change, grow, learn (be subject to rational Persuasion) in order to be worthy of her. I understand why modern screenwriters make the change. They believe that the feminist imperative demands strong-willed female characters, and they don't see Anne as strong-willed. I see it otherwise, and believe that Austen did too. Her novel substantiates the stance that it takes a stronger will to resist one's own passions and act on rational decision, than it does to follow your passions bullheadedly.

Soooo, I protest, because I wish that the movies were more perfect, BUT...I have now watched the movie several times. Let's face it, even in a flawed form, Austen's stories are superior to anything else out there!

A Host of Reasons

I collect Reading Lists. I still have the first such list, a four-paged double-columned list of books "to be read before entering college," that I received from my freshman English teacher in high school. It consisted largely of classics, so it did not take me long to realize that this list should have been labeled "a lifelong reading list." I continue to chisel away at this list; however, I have never used the list to select books. Rather, periodically I find myself perusing this list and checking off a few more. The more books I can check off, the more I feel that I am a well-read person. This is a pleasure worth sharing. So, one purpose of this blog is to make my collection of reading lists available publically.

My long-term involvement in a Reading Group, as well as my voracious reading appetite, has given me many opportunities to search book reviews on-line. There are few sources for commercially unbiased reviews, and these tend to focus on best-selling books. Among those that cover a broader range of books, the bulk of the reviews come from questionable sources: readers whose education, reading history and philosophical stance are unknown and sometimes suspect. A rave review from several pretentious reviewers does not guarantee a book is worth reading. Nor is a pan from several illiterate pulp fiction readers a guarantee that a book is worthless. I'm hoping to fill the gap, by offering reviews of a broad range of books, from a single, well-educated and well-read source. Not everyone will agree with my opinions, but they will know the criteria upon which I base those opinions, as well as my credentials.

Likewise, I have had experience in searching for reading group guides. Again, these tend to focus upon best-sellers, or at least those that the publisher hopes to make best-sellers. They also tend to be short, and largely uninsightful. I know from my college classes that the right question engages minds, and promotes lively and long-lived discussion. When a person joins a reading group, I believe they do so with the intent to broaden their scope, participate in life-long learning, and come to a greater understanding of human nature. I hope to contribute questions for reading groups that will serve these worthy ends.

Last, but certainly not least, I desire to write essays about literature. My primary interests involve the history of ideas, exploring World Views, ethics in fiction, what makes for quality fiction, and life lessons learned from literature. I want to share my passion for reading great books of all eras. I hope to find others with a similar passion, and perhaps even to inspire a few readers to embark upon deeper waters.