Showing posts with label cultural history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cultural history. Show all posts

Monday, May 30, 2016

“Van Wyck Brooks” by James Hoopes


There is only one biography of literary historian Van Wyck Brooks. It was published in 1977, some 14 years after Brooks’ death, when author James Hoopes was with the English Department at the University of California, Santa Barbara. Today he is a professor of Ethics in Business at Babson College in Massachusetts.

I suppose this is, and was, a measure of the regard for Brooks and his writings in the 50 years since his death. For a literary historian who won the National Book Award and Pulitzer Prize, and was one of the most influential critics of his day, it seems rather odd that he is generally forgotten and disregarded today.

Reasons exist, for this, of course. Brooks talked about the feminization of American literature, which by the late 1960s and early 1970s didn’t exactly earn laudatory responses in academia or the literary set. By “feminization” Brooks didn’t mean that women writers were coming to dominate literature. What he did mean, however, that writers were losing what little strength and direction they had, was then and is now politically incorrect enough to cause offense.

As biographer Hoopes points out several times in Van Wyck Brooks: In Search of American Culture, Brooks was seeking a national American literature, a national American culture, something between literary/academic writing and low-brow popular entertainment. And he wasn’t finding it. Without it, without a strong center, ultimately the culture couldn’t hold, he believed.

Considering the general state of culture, academia, and politics today, perhaps he had a point.

Van Wyck Brooks
Hoopes spent a considerable amount of time researching Brooks, including living for three months in Brooks’ last home and having access and support (but not control) by Brooks’ second wife, Gladys. He’s written a considered, balanced account of Brooks’ life and especially his literary works. Hoopes disagrees with much of what Brooks believed and write, and he notes his differences. But he’s still conscious of what Brooks contributed to American literary history and the influence he had on numerous writers and critics.

Perhaps because this book was published in the 1970s, there is a psychological flavor to it. For a time, well into the 1990s and not entirely gone today, psychological biographies were popular among academics, and my own first experience with this genre of biography was Frederick Karl’s William Faulkner: American Writer, published in 1989. What a psychological biography can do is require a writer to make assessments, and projections, that might possibly be on the mark but may also be overblown, especially if the writer doesn’t have a background in psychology. In the case of Van Wyck Brooks, Hoopes seems to generally have avoided that problem.

James Hoopes today

Where Hoopes excels here is his discussions of Brooks’ books – the context, how they were published, and what happened afterward. He also notes the controversies Brooks could engender – historian Bernard De Voto, for example, seems to have had a permanent case of vented spleen when it came to Brooks, and possibly because of Brooks’ criticism of Mark Twain, whom De Voto devoted a large chunk of his career to writing about. Nothing is as ugly as a literary spat.



Photograph: A group of writers, movie stars, and artists meet with President Franklin Roosevelt in 1944. Van Wyck Brooks is standing at far left.

Monday, May 23, 2016

“America’s Coming of Age” by Van Wyck Brooks


By the time he was 29, literary historian Van Wyck Brooks (1886-1963) had published five books: a collection of poems written while he and John Hall Wheelock were at Harvard called Verses by Two Undergraduates (1905); The Wine of the Puritans: A Study of Present-Day America (1908); The Malady of the Ideal: Senancour, Maurice de Guerin, and Amiel (1913); John Addington Symonds: A Biography Study (1914); and The World H.G. Wells (1915).

Later in 1915, Brooks published a slender but rather provocative volume called America’s Coming of Age. In five related essays, Brooks argued that culture “… should bear a critical relationship to social reality,” notes his biographer, James Hoopes. “Culture should express the ideal and exhort society to realize it.” That’s how Brooks believed culture functioned in Europe. In America, however, that had not happened.

Rather than a centralizing influence, culture (including literature) occupied two distinct positions in American society, Brooks said – high-brow and low-brow. He traced the two positions back to the 18th century, finding high-brow culture originating in the writings of the theologians like Jonathan Edwards and low-brow culture coming from the writings of Benjamin Franklin. Two cultures had not met in the middle, and each continued to occupy specific positions.

How this operated at the level of American literature, Brooks said, was that high-brow culture was a kind of meaningless idealism, while low-brow culture was a kind of meaningless realism. The two were divided, and prospects didn’t seem good for a union any time soon.

These two cultures could easily be seen in popular writing (Brooks cites Edgar Allen Poe as rather “vulgar”) and contrasting with serious writers like writing like Nathaniel Hawthorne. In Brooks’ view, Walt Whitman came close to unifying the two, but Whitman seemed more an exception than the rule.

Culture, of course, has consequences, and Brooks saw the division of American culture as having consequences. Business, for example, he associated with low-brow culture, and academic writers with high-brow. And the two were separated by what looked like an unbridgeable gulf.

Van Wyck Brooks in 1909, painted by John Butler Yeats
The result, Brooks said in America’s Coming of Age, was unsettling, with American culture like some pre-Darwinian state. “America is like a vast Sargasso Sea – a prodigious welter of unconscious life, swept by ground-swells of half-conscious emotion,” he wrote. “All manner of living things are drifting into it, phosphorescent, gayly colored, gathered into knots and clotted masses, gelatinous, unformed, flimsy, tangled, rising and falling, floating and merging…everywhere an unchecked, uncharted, unorganized vitality like that of the first chaos.”

It’s fascinating to read this discussion of pre-World War I America a century later during a raucous, unsettling, and rather wild election campaign. It would be rather too easy to define the various presidential candidates as either high-brow or low-brow. And it would be too easy to understand American culture broadly as our celebrity-dominated and often crude entertainment society and the rather sterile and to most Americans meaningless activity that passes for a lot of academic culture.

Too easy, yes, but there are elements of truth in what Brooks identified a century ago that we experience daily in 2016.

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Top photograph: 1893 World’s Fair in Chicago.