Saturday 4 October 2008

On the Vulgar in Literature, Part I


I write today about the vulgar in literature, from the etymological meaning of vulgar, that is to say, common. By vulgar, then, I mean the common effects of the body as represented within literature: sexuality, functions of the toilet, and such like. I have noticed a great shift in modern times toward, rather than away from, the representation of these things, and would rather like to spend some time on the topic.

I am myself from a somewhat older school of literary thought that included Tolkien, Tennyson, Gibran, and others; which held that such lower functions of the body, while undeniably a part of the human experience, need not be given a place within serious literature. No doubt this school was somewhat influenced by the morality of religion, which tends broadly to discriminate against such earthly functions, but the deeper philosophical premise was that the inclusion of vulgarity into literature detracted from meaning.

From both sides of our English literary heritage this vein of thought has been handed down. Marcus Aurelius wrote to us:

'Hoc quicquid tandem sum, caruncula est et animula et animi principatus. Missos fac libros: noli amplius distrahi; sed ut jam moriens carunculam contemne: cruor est ossicula et reticulum, ex nervis, venulis et arteriis contextus.'

'Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the ruling part; reason. Throw away thy books; no longer distract thyself: it is not allowed; but as if thou wast now dying, despise the flesh; it is blood and bones and a network, a contexture of nerves, veins, and arteries.'

The Anglo-Saxons, too, despite being of a ribald and exceedingly earthy culture, found fit to publish, in the works of Cynewulf and others like "Beowulf" and "The Battle of Maldon", poems and stories that dwelt not on these things, but on the moral fortitude of Christianity, the glory of war, and the transience of man.

Thus we in the English tradition have come down through the ages seeing the more common functions of the body treated with a measure of disdain, or at the least, a lack of interest, in our literature. And there is a simple reason for it, to my mind, which is simply this: the purpose of literature is to excite the imagination to morality. No more, no less. There is a wide breadth of morality represented in the literature of our keeping, but each author has held forth on his or her moral vision nonetheless. Even Tolkien’s so-called ‘cordial dislike’ of allegory in deference to the purity of history does not disclaim a moralistic interpretation of history, but merely the allegorical dictation to the reader of what that moral ought to be.

The common or vulgar functions of the body may therefore be taken for granted, and, according to this school of thought, holding little relevance to issues of reason, philosophy, or morals, ought not to be lingered over in works that hold forth on such things. I believe that much of the shift in modern times can be attributed to a shift toward a philosophical understanding grounded more in emotion than in reason, and this is something I will discuss at length later on. Primarily, however, it makes sense that while the presence of sexuality in a work may be necessary, the need to dwell at length upon that sexuality is unnecessary and therefore frivolous, unless the author feels that a lengthy exploration of the physical qualities of sex promotes the moral, and not simply the entertaining, qualities of his or her text.

But what, the reader may ask, about "The Canterbury Tales", or other such bawdy and vulgar works? There is a difference between serious literature and comedic literature that is vitally important to distinguish. The former, as I have indicated, excites the imagination to morality; the latter may also do so through irony and satire, but its primary focus is to reveal the vulgar and thus mock it. “The Canterbury Tales” may be a serious work of literature, but it is hardly serious literature. Sonnets, while they have a reputation today as being 'love poems', were often quite sexual in meaning, though skilled poets from Shakespeare to Wyatt hid such meaning behind puns and obscurities. Dryden, Pope, and Swift are three examples of more modern authors who used vulgarity to satirical effect.

Interestingly enough, the Japanese literary tradition does not discriminate so clearly against the vulgar; "Genji Monogatari", the most famous of early works of Japanese fiction, is as much a chronicle of young Genji's sexual conquests as it is of the moralistic feelings of love contained therein. The lover leaving at morning after a nighttime tryst is an ubiquitous trope in the literary and especially poetic canon, though in poetry, it is not until the last century or so, with the publication of Yosano Akiko's "Midaregami" (Tangled Hair), that overt sexuality gained a place.

Buddhism, foreign to Japan though it is, declares that 'Desire is the root of all evil', and while the meaning of that statement is broad indeed, it is easily understandable to be applicable to sexuality, among other things. Confucius likewise held forth on morality and propriety, and both of these philosophies were carried to Japan over time and grew, like two vines intertwined about the pillar of Shintoism upon which the nation's morals were founded. Thus, in "Saiyuki" (The Journey to the West), which while a Chinese work has had a deep impact on the Japanese literary tradition, Chu Wu-neng's porcine delight in gluttony and lewdness is well chronicled but generally frowned upon by the monk Hsüan-tsang's gentle but firm instruction.

In Yoshikawa Eiji's "Miyamoto Musashi", the young Takuan Soho freely urinates off a cliff whilst expressing his Buddhist delight; we are thus reminded that such quotidian or vulgar actions may indeed have a place in serious literature dependent upon the morality one is trying to express, in this case, the Zen dogma of mushin, or mindlessness.

Do you have an opinion on this? Next time, I will continue the discussion with an eye for how more modern works of literature, in both the English and Japanese canons, have changed the conversation about the vulgar in literature.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I found your opinion about the purpose of literature very interesting - "to excite the imagination to morality. No more, no less" - and I was wondering what you meant by it.

I did the Merriam Webster thing and came up with the following for "moral." (Looking up "morality" mostly just referred me to "moral").

1 a: of or relating to principles of right and wrong in behavior : ethical (moral judgments) b: expressing or teaching a conception of right behavior (a moral poem) c: conforming to a standard of right behavior d: sanctioned by or operative on one's conscience or ethical judgment (a moral obligation) e: capable of right and wrong action (a moral agent)

So, I'm wondering if you are saying that literature's purpose is to change people's behavior to be "better."

For me, I'd say that the purpose of any literary work is largely irrelevant. However, if I am to comment on literary purpose, I would say that whatever purpose literature is intended to serve, it is determined on a case by case basis by each author.

The reason that I think that purpose is largely irrelevant is because the effect, in terms of behavioral change in the reader, depends upon each reader. One reader may find a literary work to encourage self-serving behavior while another reader may find the same work to encourage "selfless" behavior.

And then there is the discussion that I would enjoy having about your referring to exciting the imagination. As you can likely tell from my preceding words, I think about imagination in terms of behavior. If you are going to speak about what literature's purpose "should" be, then I think that we should (ha - more use of this word "should") speak about the resultant behavioral change in the reader. And, I'll specify, I refer to externally observable behavioral change (e.g., increasing the probability of speaking about a certain subject, or performing some physical action), not just changing readers thoughts.

垣森 (KAKIMORI) said...

Dear zed868,

When I say that I believe the purpose of literature is to excite the imagination to morality, I don't mean that it is intended to promote a certain form of behaviour, but rather to carry the reader, through imagination, to sympathise with the author's moral ethos and interpretation of reality.

Because one person's morality is another person's immorality, the definition of morality is broad and free-ranging, and not necessarily limited to making a person's behaviour "better"...who decides what is better? Charles Manson certainly believed he and his disciples were acting from a standpoint of the highest moral purity; others have chosen to disagree with that assessment. The point I'm trying to make is that morality, or the moral ethos which defines a person's worldview, is individualistic.

Whenever an author takes pen to paper, they are expressing a worldview which is by definition moral. Some clearly know what they wish to express and do so through the form of didactic allegory (which Tolkien disliked), and some (perhaps most) write not fully knowing what it is they are expressing. (The harder then for readers to try to consciously distinguish the moral timbre of a text!)

The LARGER point, of course, is that the moral ethos which literature espouses is the important part of it, and that vulgarity (that which is common, such as sex or bodily functions) is generally irrelevant to the moral message contained therein. What role then does vulgarity play in literature?