On Literary Literacy
Ryan Robertson
In a world where different cultures are rapidly encroaching on one another, open- mindedness is essential when two or more world views come together, whether in conflict or cooperation. Cultivating Humanity, written by Martha C. Nussbaum, suggests that a broad world view can be achieved in an educational system that encourages not only fact based learning, but also the human imagination. Nussbaum also argues that reading is a good beginning for a student’s understanding of why differences exist between societies and peoples. While this may be true, it is difficult to interest many students in the idea of reading for pleasure, especially if their field of study falls outside the liberal arts category. To minimize literary ignorance many universities require all students to enroll in at least one literature course, often a survey, in order to graduate. A class like English 257, which is part of the university core, offers an introduction to great works of the canon to which many would never otherwise be exposed.
Familiarity with the themes and issues dealt with in great works is key in developing one’s own perspective through literature. A survey course allows a class to cover several authors in a semester’s time. Although no one work is explored in depth, students are acquainted well enough with excerpts of long works and entire shorter ones to understand their merit and relevance to modern readers. My personal experience in English 257 has led to a re-evaluation of humanitarian issues such as the role and importance of the self, the role of church, gender differences, and political problems.
The way in which people perceive themselves in relation to the world around them is highly variable throughout the world and history. Some are the center of their universe, while others are part of a greater whole, not to mention those who fall somewhere between these extremes. Reading Homer’s Iliad one may question Achilles’ seemingly irrational behavior when he doesn’t get his way. When Agamemnon commandeers his female war prize, Briseus, Achilles opts to withdraw his services as a warrior and wishes hard times on his battling compatriots. His anguish is so great that he puts his personal concerns ahead of his society’s. This seemed questionable behavior to me, but taken in a historical context it is not so. The Greek concept of arete justifies what I interpret as irrational selfishness in its promotion of personal glory and heroism. The bottom line for Achilles is that his services are invaluable to the Greeks and, unless his situation is rectified, he will not act as a cog in their machine. In fact, the only reason he decides to rejoin the war is rooted in self interest; he must gloriously avenge the death of Patroclus.
On the other end of the egoistic spectrum we find Virgilian Aeneas, who observes the Roman code of ethics called pietas to such an extent that he abandons personal affairs in favor of founding a civilization. The rules of pietas split up devotion hierarchically with the gods at the top, state in the middle and family at the bottom. Like Achilles, Aeneas makes decisions that the reader may find frustrating. When Troy is under siege, Aeneas is separated from his wife Creusa amidst the chaos. Following a half-hearted search of their path to safety, he cannot find her. Rather than suffering from an intense sense of anguish, Aeneas seems more concerned with getting to the escape boat where his father and son await him. Their safe passage from Ilium to a new home, which in this case is the future Roman Empire, has divine expectations and, therefore, can be impeded by nothing or no one.
Aeneas’ character may be harder to accept if he were not so consistent in his actions. When he abandons yet another love interest, Dido, the reader is less surprised the second time as we have become aware of the importance of his mission. While Dido’s rash reaction to Aeneas’ desertion lends a more self interested view to her character, Aeneas is insistent on his higher calling. Here we realize that what once seemed a flawed personality is really a "good" Roman under the social expectations of the time that the Aeneid was written.
The status of women can be followed through literature’s employment of females as both characters and authors. Marie de France’s lai, entitled Eliduc, is a story about women, by a woman. This twelfth century narrative tells the tale of one man torn between two lovers: his wife and a foreign royal mistress. The title misleadingly claims the male character as the focus of the story which, when read, is dominated by the two strong female characters. The young mistress Guilliadun has a carpe diem attitude that helps her be assertive in getting her way with Eliduc. Eliduc’s wife Guildeluec handles the discovery of her cheating husband with grace and civility rather than a mad outburst à la Dido.
Chaucer also treated female characters such as Alison in "The Miller’s Tale" with notable respect. In the mentioned tale, the male characters end up fools, one with a burnt ego and the other with a burnt ass, while Alison gets a laugh at both of their absurd behavior when trying to win her attention. Such empowered women characters show that feminist thinking is not something exclusive to the twentieth century as many would believe. Modern popular culture still reinforces negative female stereotypes with programs such as Baywatch that Marie de France or Chaucer, who were busy dispelling such myths, would likely find repugnant. The existence of the modern genre of Harlequin romance supports a claim that society still maintains a view of women as feeble and male dominated even when writers of the Middle Ages worked to disprove this.
A political agenda can often be found at the heart of a great work. Machiavellian ethics are still relied on by many governments of the world, especially the most powerful. In The Prince Machiavelli describes an ends justify the means way of governing as the most effective since his view of human nature assumes all men are inherently evil. Under this premise first world nations such as the United States justify military action against other countries. The current war with Yugoslavia is a case point. The U.S. government (under the assumed name NATO) is engaged in military "operations" against a leader that few would deny is unjust. Yet when bombs are dropped accidentally on civilian areas, the war effort expresses public sympathy and continues the attacks. Bill Clinton, Tony Blair and the United States Senate obviously believe that in order for there to be a resolution to the conflict, innocent people, even those who are supposedly being defended, must die for the greater good to succeed. By reading The Prince, a student may arrive at a moral conclusion that is divergent with his/her own culture’s way of dealing with world or even interior politics. The rhetoric of Machiavelli so dominates the perspective of The Prince that it is difficult to read it as anything other than guidelines for governing.
Another famous Florentine, Dante, also used his writing to push a political agenda but did not limit his work to one. In the Inferno Dante has devised a rigid system of punishment where the severity of castigation is directly relative to the crimes committed. As a character himself, Dante is led through the nine levels of Hell by a phantasmagoric Virgil, symbol of human reason. Throughout the journey the reader can identify Dante’s prejudices which are founded in his own experiences as a political exile. It becomes apparent that he is criticizing the Florentine powers that he deems treacherous (the most evil of sinners) and played a role in his political ruin.
The Inferno includes, however, a theme of personal growth that encompasses his art, religion, politics and morality. His shameless proclamation of himself as a great literary mind is evident; most notably when he is invited to join Virgil, Homer, Ovid, Lucan, and Horace as "sixth in that high company" (Canto IV). What begins as a stroll through the Dark Wood of Error allows Dante the poet and pilgrim to come to terms with all his troubles and focus on the "True Way" he should live, regardless of external interference. The conclusion that I came to through reading The Inferno seems fair advice from a fourteenth century Florentine: The only way to live life is to be true to one’s own ideals; for betraying one’s morality is betraying one’s self. In an age of excessive exploitation ideas like this are readily dealt with in a status quo enforced Machiavellian manner.
From the Bible to Hamlet works of literature that are passed from generation to generation are shared for a reason. The individuals and situations involved in a great work can teach people of all centuries something about the world, and maybe, more important, about themselves. Whether we identify with a problem or a personality, the fact that there is an identification of some sort is a preliminary stage in fitting it into our respective perception of the world and its people. Cultivation is not a characteristic attributed to humanity by birth right alone; it is something that must be worked toward. In our post Industrial Revolutionary society it is becoming easier and easier to find oneself enveloped in a routine that discourages individuality and imagination, leading many to complacency and ignorance. The role higher education takes under such circumstances can either perpetuate or disintegrate the trend, and classes like English 257 work to end dangerously uncultivated world views.