So tonight Eagleton defined a "pressing historic problem" for me, one that has been keeping me up at nights lately (or just about): " . . . the problem of the intellectual's relation to 'common humanity,' the relation between a tolerant intellectual skepticism and more taxing convictions, and the social relevance of a professionalized criticism to a crisis-ridden society."
Apparently this was of keen interest to lit theorists in the 20's and 30's. And to a rather common English major deciding on a thesis in October of 2007.
What do you think? Is it relevant? Important? If one could choose between raising money for a good cause and dissecting the meaning of "semiotics" in Julia Kristeva's criticism, is one more worthy than the other?
I used to have a long line of thought that led me to believe both were equal, but I've lost the end.
10 comments:
I don't have time to write much, but dissecting semiotics has in my opinion just as much value as raising money for a good cause. The short version: when God set up a rule of life for people early in the Bible, he asked them to live a good life in the land, tithe 3 1/3% to the Levites, and leave the margins in their fields and their life to help the poor.
Us North American types (me most of all) tend to think all or nothing towards a single goal. But there is a full life available to us that can include (in your case) deep intellectual satisfaction and protecting the margins of society. They don't have to be the same thing to be valid.
I have to say that while my head agrees with Trevor, I don't know if I really agree in the equality of the intellectual pursuit with other social pursuits. (And this is coming from someone who just devoted two years of her life to the linguistic ambiguity of the word "home" in an obscure 19th century author.)
I understand the whole anti-utilitarian argument that there doesn't have to be a definable outcome for something to be good. I know that I don't have to think in dichotomies--where literature lives in one realm and action lives in another. I also get incarnational thinking, where everything is redeemable and of worth. But I still have nagging doubts. . .
I don't know what I would consider "more important." But for myself I think I'm a little more curious about your thoughts on the intellectual debate.
I, like Amber, can intellectually make a case to myself for the worthiness of the study of (insert obscure realm of theory here), but there is more than a good deal of existential guilt when I ask myself whether the best act of incarnation is the study and theorizing of the intricate nuances of the idea and event of incarnation - the sort of how many angels can you fit on the head of a pin debate I feel like I am prone to.
As I think about pursuing grad school (as I've been doing - so no offense to those also inclined) I often worry that I will end up simply perpetuating myself - a professional academic relatively unengaged with reality (and most of my students) and simply motivating and captivating a few students like myself who will likewise enter into some ivory tower, an academic breeding academia. I can argue myself down from that cynical edge, but the doubts linger.
I do like what Buechner says on the subject of vocation though, something to the effect of, "your calling is where your deep joy and the world's deep hunger meet." I am terrible at making and managing money and I get squeamish around sharp things like scalpels - so while the practical and measurable moral value of starting a non-profit or becoming a doctor to the poor attracts me I know that I would be largele ineffective in those roles, they aren't my gifts - I happen to be better at dissecting ideas than cats.
Perhaps intellectual pursuit, properly ordered, is that which keeps this tension in mind - that we live in a hungry world, be it with our loaves and fishes or arguments concerning Kristeva and Merleau-Ponty - that our joy, properly ordered, is directed not towards self satisfaction but towards the hungry world, wherever we recognize it and have something to offer - in the universe of theory or on the street.
I really appreciate that Buechner quote, Thomas. (On a brief aside, would you have any recommendations for a good introductory text of Buechner's or perhaps just one of your favorites?)
And likewise, I really like the concept that you draw from it in the form of pursuits being "properly ordered."
But I still wonder how that proper ordering works in a discipline that seems, by its very nature, to be so insular and, at times, mincing.
Quite frankly, I do derive "deep joy" from the subdividing and the parlaying and even the very insularity, but is there a way this meets the outside world? I look to certain critics and I would say, yes--they've made into the public square. But others. . . . and then it's back to the original question: Does it matter?
Wow. I love this discussion. Ironically...I'm going to wait to post my own comment until I get some research done, on Kristeva.
Favorite Buechner book is "Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy and Fairy Tale" - it's a little older so it might be tough to get a hold of though. Other good intros would be his memoir stuff starting with "The Sacred Journey" followed by "Now and Then" and "Telling Secrets". I'm not as big a fan of his fiction, but if you're in the mood for a novel "Son of Laughter" and "The Book of Bebb" are good ways to go.
As far as the question of "does it matter" we all know there is a certain amount of unavoidable subjectivity in making that judgment. I spent my teenage years in a community where the fact that I was good with physics equations drew less praise or respect than if I had been more skilled with a welding torch - let alone the fact that I spent a good deal of my free time reading or writing fiction. The surrounding community and culture often dictate the terms of what is socially relevent - they provide our horizon of meaning as Taylor says. Literature doesn't have much traction in rural Alberta.
So, for many, even the critics and theorists who have gained a voice in the public square still don't matter. I think one of the main criteria for establishing meaning comes back to that joy factor - of the question of whether it matters to us, and someone else, our neighbors. Most of us aren't able to feed five thousand with our little basket of lunch (talents, gifts, opportunity), but we can feed who we can - and then we hope. I mean, one of the comforts of incarnational thinking is that whether you toil in obscurity as an academic, a welder, a stock broker or a hospice nurse that what you do has worth outside of the value the community that establishes your horizon of meaning gives it.
I think we deny pursuing our deepest joys at our own peril - one thinks of a Wilberforce who almost pursues a career as a minister and contemplative because dealing with eternal spiritual realities seemed to matter more, have more value, than a political life.
Or course, I've just exposed the problem with all this as well - that if Wilberforce had pursused the contemplative life and devoted himself to prayer and Bible study we would say that this would seem to be a lesser task than the one he undertook to fight for abolition in parliamentry debates - even if it had given him great joy - the world was hungry for something other than his contemplation. Yet, if he had been a poor speaker or lousy parliamentarian would a contemplative life been a waste in the same way?
I mean, I really can't say. I have yet to apply to any grad school programs at least in part due to this question - of whether it does matter - of whether entering into that world of academia will result in any concrete impact.
But, in favor of battling the dichotomy of public over private, of vocation as occupation over vocation as life calling - I think that even if we had no historically noticeable impact - even if our particular obscure analyses of various literary phenomenon never are socially relevant - we can still be relevant, still matter, to those around us outside the sphere of our study or work. And that is important. It seems like there is significant importance in loving your husband or wife well, your friends, the people in your book club, in your church small group, on your community sports team...We live in a culture (both inside and outside the church) that often sets such things on a second tier - a healthy marriage while carrying on as an academic in an obscure field of study that most people are hard pressed to even understand let alone value and be moved by is not as impressive as saving a village in Africa from starvation - but could we not say that a healthy marriage is a pretty amazing thing just as saving a village in Africa is an amazing thing? That both are gifts?
I think this idea of gifts has potential - of opportunities as gifts, of our own accomplisments and skills as gifts from outside ourselves - is our question of does what I do matter an essentially egoistic one?
Everyone's touched on things that I've considered over my 5 or 6 years of debating academia/career choices. I'm still unsure which "deep joy" to follow, but in my moments of fatigue with the insularity of academia, I begin to think that I want to feel immersed in the world in a more immediate way. Instead of putting a book of criticism on a dusty shelf where it will ostensibly work change slowly over a long period of time in subtle ways, I like to see concrete effort and change. I put a lot of emphasis on the bridge between the ivory tower and the rest of the world -- on the effort to make ideas accessible to a larger audience and to interpret the significance of theory to life. Perhaps the question of worth is a moot point -- anything that is beautiful and true is of worth and academia can be both. But when it comes to vocation, I suppose the question is whether or not I can live in a world of pure ideas and feel engaged. And then yes, I suppose it is more a question of self than of greater good.
Good thoughts, Veronica. And I actually just posted "Friday's."
Sorry I’m late. The discussion is trundling along rather nicely at this point but I’d still like to pause for a second to define how I am reading the question before I give any opinions on it.
I read, “the problem of the intellectual's relation to 'common humanity,'…. and the social relevance of a professionalized criticism to a crisis-ridden society.” As saying, simply: do intellectuals matter; can the relationship between them and real pain be validated in any way? At the bottom of that question, as it is coming from an intellectual, is the summary of the problem of our entire ‘crisis ridden society’: Do I matter? I think that is something that the discussion has overlooked so far. We are faced with a society in crisis as individuals within that turmoil – I don’t think that it is referring to economic injustice globally but to the immediate societal problems that have emerged as a result of our ‘progress’ as a culture.
We are not faced with the problem of how to stay alive but why to stay alive. For myself the problem of life always comes down to the problem of feeling that I cannot make sense of my impressions of my own existence. That sounds a little dramatic, but I think it is true for most people on some level. Beauty is too big for the mind – for that matter so is evil, hate, love, despair. Here is our crisis, we live in a society that excludes soul from mind and we are not properly equipped to deal with full realities. There is something beautiful and tragic in being a human. What is it; what do we do about it; does it, or I matter?
I’m going to make an ass of myself and admit that I have never read, or even heard of, Eagleton. There, I’m a philistine, but so are most people. If I’m out here, staring at the five a.m. blackness pretending to know something about the ‘human condition’ as an abstract concept because my own soul is a mystery to me, does Eagleton-the-intellectual do me, or humanity, any good?
I think that the good news is, yes, that person does have an effect on our reality now – not because they had great ideas but because they bothered to share their ideas. Good or bad, insightful or philistine, they gave us a chance to send our ideas out to a friend and to feel human. Where I think the ivory-tower-kids run into trouble is in expecting too much direct result from their work. Intellectuals will never change anyone with a book as much as any person can with a touch. Their job isn’t to fix the world but to remind us who are in it that there is value in touching other people – that there is something big and beautiful about being alive. The intellect and the soul are gifts and they need to be treated as such. It is very likely that my ‘deep joy’ will be meeting with the world’s ‘deep hunger’ in a very unprofitable way. Here the crisis is evident again. Our culture largely replaces ‘value’ with ‘profitability’ leaving us all to continually struggle with the ‘valuelessness’ of our gifts.
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