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第34章

heretics-第34章

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any more than in any other。  The kind of man who could really



express the pleasures of the poor would be also the kind of man



who could share them。  In short; these books are not a record



of the psychology of poverty。  They are a record of the psychology



of wealth and culture when brought in contact with poverty。



They are not a description of the state of the slums。  They are only



a very dark and dreadful description of the state of the slummers。



One might give innumerable examples of the essentially



unsympathetic and unpopular quality of these realistic writers。



But perhaps the simplest and most obvious example with which we



could conclude is the mere fact that these writers are realistic。



The poor have many other vices; but; at least; they are never realistic。



The poor are melodramatic and romantic in grain; the poor all believe



in high moral platitudes and copy…book maxims; probably this is



the ultimate meaning of the great saying; 〃Blessed are the poor。〃



Blessed are the poor; for they are always making life; or trying



to make life like an Adelphi play。  Some innocent educationalists



and philanthropists (for even philanthropists can be innocent)



have expressed a grave astonishment that the masses prefer shilling



shockers to scientific treatises and melodramas to problem plays。



The reason is very simple。  The realistic story is certainly



more artistic than the melodramatic story。  If what you desire is



deft handling; delicate proportions; a unit of artistic atmosphere;



the realistic story has a full advantage over the melodrama。



In everything that is light and bright and ornamental the realistic



story has a full advantage over the melodrama。  But; at least;



the melodrama has one indisputable advantage over the realistic story。



The melodrama is much more like life。  It is much more like man;



and especially the poor man。  It is very banal and very inartistic when a



poor woman at the Adelphi says; 〃Do you think I will sell my own child?〃



But poor women in the Battersea High Road do say; 〃Do you think I



will sell my own child?〃  They say it on every available occasion;



you can hear a sort of murmur or babble of it all the way down



the street。  It is very stale and weak dramatic art (if that is all)



when the workman confronts his master and says; 〃I'm a man。〃



But a workman does say 〃I'm a man〃 two or three times every day。



In fact; it is tedious; possibly; to hear poor men being



melodramatic behind the footlights; but that is because one can



always hear them being melodramatic in the street outside。



In short; melodrama; if it is dull; is dull because it is too accurate。



Somewhat the same problem exists in the case of stories about schoolboys。



Mr。 Kipling's 〃Stalky and Co。〃  is much more amusing (if you are



talking about amusement) than the late Dean Farrar's 〃Eric; or;



Little by Little。〃  But 〃Eric〃 is immeasurably more like real



school…life。 For real school…life; real boyhood; is full of the things



of which Eric is fullpriggishness; a crude piety; a silly sin;



a weak but continual attempt at the heroic; in a word; melodrama。



And if we wish to lay a firm basis for any efforts to help the poor;



we must not become realistic and see them from the outside。



We must become melodramatic; and see them from the inside。



The novelist must not take out his notebook and say; 〃I am



an expert。〃  No; he must imitate the workman in the Adelphi play。



He must slap himself on the chest and say; 〃I am a man。〃















XX。  Concluding Remarks on the Importance of Orthodoxy











Whether the human mind can advance or not; is a question too



little discussed; for nothing can be more dangerous than to found



our social philosophy on any theory which is debatable but has



not been debated。  But if we assume; for the sake of argument;



that there has been in the past; or will be in the future;



such a thing as a growth or improvement of the human mind itself;



there still remains a very sharp objection to be raised against



the modern version of that improvement。  The vice of the modern



notion of mental progress is that it is always something concerned



with the breaking of bonds; the effacing of boundaries; the casting



away of dogmas。  But if there be such a thing as mental growth;



it must mean the growth into more and more definite convictions;



into more and more dogmas。  The human brain is a machine for coming



to conclusions; if it cannot come to conclusions it is rusty。



When we hear of a man too clever to believe; we are hearing of



something having almost the character of a contradiction in terms。



It is like hearing of a nail that was too good to hold down



a carpet; or a bolt that was too strong to keep a door shut。



Man can hardly be defined; after the fashion of Carlyle; as an animal



who makes tools; ants and beavers and many other animals make tools;



in the sense that they make an apparatus。  Man can be defined



as an animal that makes dogmas。  As he piles doctrine on doctrine



and conclusion on conclusion in the formation of some tremendous



scheme of philosophy and religion; he is; in the only legitimate sense



of which the expression is capable; becoming more and more human。



When he drops one doctrine after another in a refined scepticism;



when he declines to tie himself to a system; when he says that he has



outgrown definitions; when he says that he disbelieves in finality;



when; in his own imagination; he sits as God; holding no form



of creed but contemplating all; then he is by that very process



sinking slowly backwards into the vagueness of the vagrant animals



and the unconsciousness of the grass。  Trees have no dogmas。



Turnips are singularly broad…minded。







If then; I repeat; there is to be mental advance; it must be mental



advance in the construction of a definite philosophy of life。  And that



philosophy of life must be right and the other philosophies wrong。



Now of all; or nearly all; the able modern writers whom I have



briefly studied in this book; this is especially and pleasingly true;



that they do each of them have a constructive and affirmative view;



and that they do take it seriously and ask us to take it seriously。



There is nothing merely sceptically progressive about Mr。 Rudyard Kipling。



There is nothing in the least broad minded about Mr。 Bernard Shaw。



The paganism of Mr。 Lowes Dickinson is more grave than any Christianity。



Even the opportunism of Mr。 H。 G。 Wells is more dogmatic than



the idealism of anybody else。  Somebody complained; I think;



to Matthew Arnold that he was getting as dogmatic as Carlyle。



He replied; 〃That may be true; but you overlook an obvious difference。



I am dogmatic and right; and Carlyle is dogmatic and wrong。〃



The strong humour of the remark ought not to disguise from us its



everlasting seriousness and common sense; no man ought to write at all;



or even to speak at all; unless he thinks that he is in truth and the other



man in error。  In similar style; I hold that I am dogmatic and right;



while Mr。 Shaw is dogmatic and wrong。  But my main point; at present;



is to notice that the chief among these writers I have discussed



do most sanely and courageously offer themselves as dogmatists;



as founders of a system。  It may be true that the thing in Mr。 Shaw



most interesting to me; is the fact that Mr。 Shaw is wrong。



But it is equally true that the thing in Mr。 Shaw most interesting



to himself; is the fact that Mr。 Shaw is right。  Mr。 Shaw may have



none with him but himself; but it is not for himself he cares。



It is for the vast and universal church; of which he is the only member。







The two typical men of genius whom I have mentioned here; and with whose



names I have begun this book; are very symbolic; if only because they



have shown that the fiercest dogmatists can make the best artists。



In the fin de siecle atmosphere every one was crying out that



literature should be free from all causes and all ethical creeds。



Art was to produce only exquisite workmanship; and it was especially the



note of those days to demand brilliant plays and brilliant short stories。



And when they got them; they got them from a couple of moralists。



The best short stories were written by a man trying to preach Imperialism。



The best plays were written by a man trying to preach Socialism。



All the art of all the artists looked tiny and tedious beside



the art which was a byproduct of propaganda。







The reason; indeed; is very simple。  A man cannot be wise enough to be



a great artist without being wise enough to wish to be a philosopher。



A man cannot have the energy to produce good art without having



the energy to wish to pass beyond it。  A small artist is content



with art; a great artist is content with nothing except everything。



So we find that when real forces; good or bad; like Kipling and



G。 B。 S。; enter our arena; they bring with them not only startling



and arresting art; but very startling and arresting dogmas。  And they



care even more; and desire us to care even more; about their startling



and arresting dogmas than about their startling and arresting art。



Mr。 Shaw is a good dramatist; but what he desires more than



anything else to be is a good politician。  Mr。 Rudyard Kipling



is by divine caprice and natural genius an unconventional poet;



but what he desires more than anything else to be is a conventional poet。



He desires to be the poet of his people; bone of their bone; and flesh



of their flesh; understanding their origins; celebrating their destiny。



He desires to be Poet Laureate; a most sensible and honourable and



public…spirited desire。  Having been given by the gods originality



that is; disagreement with othershe desires divinely to agree with them。



But the most striking instance of all; more striking; I think;



even than either of these; is the instance of Mr。 H。 G。 Wells。



He began in a sort of insane infancy of pure art。  He began by making



a new heaven and a new earth; with the same irresponsible instinct



by which men buy a new necktie or button…hole。 He began by trifling



with the stars and systems in order to make ephemeral anecdotes;



he killed the universe for a joke。  He has since become more and



more serious; and has become; as men inevitably do when they become



more and more serious; more and more parochial。  He was frivolous about



the twilight o

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