I was told today that I am an idealist (well, when it comes to literature). I had no idea that I was giving people that impression. I’ve never thought of myself as an idealist at all. I think I’m in some ways a cynic. I don’t believe in publishing the work of marginalized writers just because they’re marginalized, because I don’t think that benefits anyone, the writers least of all. I believe that feminism stopped being a positive influence on society well over a decade ago. I don’t think writers from any nation show enough guts. There are not enough élitist writers out there expressing unpopular opinions. Literature is declining because writers are afraid to say that some people are better than others (I’m not talking about racism or similar nonsense; I’m talking, ultimately, about the fact that not all literature is created equal; Robertson Davies is a better writer than Kathy Acker, and so forth). Not enough critics are exploring the history of their field. How many of the postmodern critics who tear apart Northrop Frye have read him seriously? I would imagine very few, and their clumsiness shows in their work.
Perhaps I’m an idealist in the sense that I’m dissatisfied with the current state of literature both as it is written and as it is criticised. Writers are producing works based on flawed principles, and critics haven’t said anything truly meaningful about literature in thirty years. Maybe my yearning for something more makes me an idealist, but I’m more inclined to believe that my dissatisfaction, and my belief that things are only going to get worse, makes me a cynic.
Thoughts?
