A steady stream of people walked out of this session in the first twenty minutes, as it became clear that this was a rigorously structured lecture rather than light entertainment. Moira Gatens (philosophy professor) was speaking on The Ethical Responsibility of the Writer: George Eliot Meets Elizabeth Costello.
The blurb said:"George Eliot is often named as the greatest writer of realist fiction in the English language. For her, realism entailed a commitment to truthfulness. She once referred to her novels as faithfully mirroring life and compared the role of the responsible author to that of a witness giving evidence under oath. More recently J. M. Coetzee has Elizabeth Costello question what realism might mean today and what is the ethical responsibility of the writer. Moira Gatens aims to construct a conversation between these writers, and their personae, in order to explore the ethics of writing and reading."
I made notes, trying to follow the argument. I apologise to Moira Gatens (MG) in advance for the mistakes I've probably made in capturing/understanding what she said. I'd love a chance to read the lecture because it left me thinking for some time afterwards.
MG started by contrasting Posner's view that the value of literature is based in aesthetics, with Nussbaum's view that its value is moralistic/didactic.
Then she presented George Eliot as a writer who produced richly drawn characters embedded in complex social situations and who wanted to show that the divine lies in human fellowship rather than in religiousity. She cited Eliot's argument that 'bad art can raise false sympathy' (the example that came to my mind was how Mills & Boon fantasies twist teenage girls expectations regarding love and relationships) and then linked this to an argument put forward by JM Coetzee's character Elizabeth Costello about 'letting the devil in' through literature.
Elizabeth Costello (whom MG suggests is an enigmatic projection of JM Coetzee himself - a mother persona who articulates his views on big issues whilst acting as his protector so he doesn't have to explicitly own them) is an academic presenting at a conference on the idea that imaginative writing can be dangerous to both writer and reader - we should be cautious about imagining certain deep dark things because the devil is always searching for a way into the light - what we read and write has the power to make us worse as well as better.
(For a less baldly stated potted description of how this appears in Coetzee's book, see the New York Review of Books article, 'Disturbing the Peace', Volume 50, Number 18 · November 20, 2003 by David Lodge at http://www.nybooks.com/articles/16791).
As an example, Elizabeth refers to a book by Paul West containing a disturbingly graphic depiction of sadism and torture (interestingly, West and his book do actually exist). She argues the writing is "obscene"—such things should not be thought, or written, or read.
Reviewer David Lodge comments: "I read West's novel out of curiosity, and agreed with Elizabeth's literary judgment: it begins well, but falls off, especially toward the end, when the ghost of Stauffenberg (who was summarily executed the day of the abortive plot) observes and reports the horrible end of his fellow conspirators. There is a serious failure of tone in the fictional treatment of Hitler and his hangman, cranking up the horror when the known facts are horrific enough. Such subjects should certainly be handled with care—history and documentary probably being the best way—but Elizabeth surely goes too far in asserting that they should be sealed up and passed over in silence."
MG pointed out that as Elizabeth Costello is not JM Coetzee, we are left wondering exactly what position is being advocated. Is it a form of pious censorship? Is Coetzee just being a provocateur, rather than a moral teacher?
MG noted that exposure to reports of brutal and degrading acts can be desensitising (think of TV new reports) and asked whether there is a special responsibility on the writer who seeks to engage the imaginative and emotional sympathy of the reader.
During question time, an audience member asked, what about accounts of the holocaust? Memorialisation, making sure some people/events are not forgotten? Someone made a point about not overburdening children with memory.
I left this session feeling the thesis presented couldn't be right. Surely there can be a value in terms of moral education (either to strive to avoid, or to understand/forgive) in portraying the dark side of human nature in literature? MG did try to counter such a position early on in the talk. She argued that students studying English at universities are no more moral than students from other disciplines; that 'bad art' can corrupt/mislead weak minds; that watching the news doesn't make us more empathetic. All valid points - but is that enough to conclude we should eschew all portrayal of the Holocaust? What about my own book, which portrays my mother's degradation and suffering before her death? But it did make me wonder about the point of what I'm writing. Yes - it's a testament to experience, but what is gained by making people cry? I suppose my hope is that greater understanding is a good in itself. That forewarned is forearmed, that showing what carers (and patients) go through will normalise the range of human behaviour occurring in such difficult situations which might otherwise be guilt-inducing. And motivate others to lend aid and support instead of mouthing unhelpful platitudes or letting themselves off the hook and keeping a comfortable distance away.
My conclusion? I decided that I couldn't seriously entertain this idea of 'the devil manifest' as a prohibition. I prefer something along the lines of 'I am a man: I hold that nothing human is alien to me'.