Chap 1 New Critic
Chap 1 New Critic
CHAPTER 1
            related to the notion of the ‘image’ which is central to the poetics of Ezra Pound,
            Imagism and Eliot’s own poetic practice.) What emerges from all this in the
            context of the diverse developments of New Criticism is the (seemingly)
            anti-romantic thrust of Eliot’s thinking (a new ‘classicism’); the emphasis
            on ‘science’, ‘objectivity’, ‘impersonality’, and the ‘medium’ as the focal object
            of analysis; and the notion of a ‘tradition’ of works which most success-
            fully hold an ‘essence’ of human experience in their constituent ‘medium’.
                In the immediate post-First World War period when Eliot was develop-
            ing these ideas, ‘English’ was emerging (most particularly at Cambridge
            University) as a (some would say the) central subject in the Arts higher-
            education syllabus, and with it a new, younger generation of academics
            determined to transcend the older ‘bellettrist’ critical tradition which had
            dominated English hitherto. In a sense, they can be regarded as the first
            proponents of a ‘professional’ criticism working from within the academy,
            and it was to them that Eliot’s critical precepts appealed most strongly. It
            is worth registering – both in the present context and in the later one of
            contemporary critical theory’s assault on the earlier tradition, and of its con-
            sonance with postmodernism – that this new criticism had a thoroughly
            symbiotic relationship with literary modernism, finding its premises borne
            out in such works and using these as its model texts for analysis. To put it
            over simply, perhaps: this new critical movement was ‘modernist’ criticism.
                I. A. Richards, William Empson and, slightly later, F. R. Leavis (see below)
            were the main proponents of the new English at Cambridge. Richards, whose
            background was in philosophy (aesthetics, psychology and semantics), pro-
            duced his widely influential Principles of Literary Criticism in 1924. In it he
            innovatively attempted to lay down an explicit theoretical base for literary
            study. Arguing that criticism should emulate the precision of science, he
            attempted to articulate the special character of literary language, differen-
            tiating the ‘emotive’ language of poetry from the ‘referential’ language of
            non-literary discourse (his Science and Poetry was to follow in 1926). Even
            more influential – certainly in terms of its title and the praxis it enunciates
            – was Practical Criticism (1929), in which Richards included examples of his
            students’ attempts to analyse short, unidentified poems, showed how slack
            their reading equipment was, and attempted to establish basic tenets for
            the close reading of poetry. Practical Criticism became, in both the United
            States and England, the central compulsory critical and pedagogic tool of
            the higher-education (and then secondary) English syllabus – rapidly and
            damagingly becoming untheorized, and thus naturalized, as the funda-
            mental critical practice. Its virtues were, however – and we may yet come
            to regret its obloquy in the demystifying theoretical initiatives of the past
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            thirty years – that it encouraged attentive close reading of texts and, in its
            intellectual and historical abstraction, a kind of democratization of literary
            study in the classroom, in which nearly everyone was placed on an equal
            footing in the face of a ‘blind’ text – a point we will re-emphasize in the
            context of American New Criticism. Indeed Richards left Cambridge in 1929,
            later settling at Harvard University, and his influence, particularly through
            Practical Criticism, substantially underpinned native developments in the States
            which were moving in similar directions.
                William Empson, who transferred from mathematics to English as an
            undergraduate and became Richards’s pupil, is most important in our con-
            text here for his first, famously precocious and astoundingly quickly pro-
            duced work (written when he was Richards’s student), Seven Types of
            Ambiguity (1930). It would be inaccurate to characterize Empson as purely
            a New Critic (his later work and career constantly refused easy labelling
            or placing) but that first book, with its emphasis on ‘ambiguity’ as the
            defining characteristic of poetic language, its virtuoso feats of close, creative
            ‘practical criticism’ in action, and its apparent tendency to detach literary
            texts from their contexts in the process of ‘reading’ their ambiguities was
            particularly influential on New Criticism.
            to material history: see below Cleanth Brooks’s essay about Keats’s ‘Ode on
            a Grecian Urn’) might represent a haven for alienated intellectuals and,
            indeed, for whole generations of quietistic students. Third, with the huge
            expansion of the student population in the States in this period, catering
            for second-generation products of the American ‘melting pot’, New
            Criticism with its ‘practical criticism’ basis was at once pedagogically eco-
            nomical (copies of short texts could be distributed equally to everyone) and
            also a way of coping with masses of individuals who had no ‘history’ in
            common. In other words, its ahistorical, ‘neutral’ nature – the study only
            of ‘the words on the page’ – was an apparently equalizing, democratic activ-
            ity appropriate to the new American experience.
                But whatever the socio-cultural explanations for its provenance, New
            Criticism is clearly characterized in premise and practice: it is not concerned
            with context – historical, biographical, intellectual and so on; it is not inter-
            ested in the ‘fallacies’ of ‘intention’ or ‘affect’; it is concerned solely with
            the ‘text in itself’, with its language and organization; it does not seek a
            text’s ‘meaning’, but how it ‘speaks itself’ (see Archibald MacLeish’s poem
            ‘Ars Poetica’, itself a synoptic New Critical document, which opens: ‘A poem
            must not mean/But be’); it is concerned to trace how the parts of the text
            relate, how it achieves its ‘order’ and ‘harmony’, how it contains and resolves
            ‘irony’, ‘paradox’, ‘tension’, ‘ambivalence’ and ‘ambiguity’; and it is con-
            cerned essentially with articulating the very ‘poem-ness’ – the formal
            quintessence – of the poem itself (and it usually is a poem – but see Mark
            Schorer and Wayne Booth, below).
                An early, founding essay in the self-identification of New Criticism is
            John Crowe Ransom’s ‘Criticism, Inc.’ (1937). (His book on Eliot, Richards
            and others, entitled The New Criticism, 1941, gave the movement its name.)
            Ransom, one of the ‘Fugitives’ and editor of the Kenyon Review 1939–59,
            here lays down the ground rules: ‘Criticism, Inc.’ is the ‘business’ of pro-
            fessionals – professors of literature in the universities in particular; criticism
            should become ‘more scientific, or precise and systematic’; students should
            ‘study literature, and not merely about literature’; Eliot was right to
            denounce romantic literature as ‘imperfect in objectivity, or “aesthetic dis-
            tance”’; criticism is not ethical, linguistic or historical studies, which are merely
            ‘aids’; the critic should be able to exhibit not the ‘prose core’ to which a
            poem may be reduced but ‘the differentia, residue, or tissue, which keeps
            the object poetical or entire. The character of the poem resides for the good
            critic in its way of exhibiting the residuary quality.’
                Many of these precepts are given practical application in the work of
            Cleanth Brooks, himself also a ‘Fugitive’, professional academic, editor of
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            the Southern Review (with Robert Penn Warren) 1935–42, and one of the
            most skilled and exemplary practitioners of the New Criticism. His and
            Warren’s textbook anthologies, Understanding Poetry (1938) and Understand-
            ing Fiction (1943), are often regarded as having spread the New Critical
            doctrine throughout generations of American university literature students,
            but his most characteristic book of close readings is the significantly titled
            The Well-Wrought Urn: Studies in the Structure of Poetry (1947), in which the
            essay on the eponymous urn of Keats’s Ode, ‘Keats’s Sylvan Historian: History
            Without Footnotes’ (1942), is in our view the best exemplification, expli-
            citly and implicitly, of New Critical practice one could hope to find. Brooks
            at once quotes the opening of MacLeish’s ‘Ars Poetica’ (see above); refers
            to Eliot and his notion of the ‘objective correlative’; rejects the relevance
            of biography; reiterates throughout the terms ‘dramatic propriety’, ‘irony’,
            ‘paradox’ (repeatedly) and ‘organic context’; performs a bravura reading
            of the poem which leaves its ‘sententious’ final dictum as a dramatically
            organic element of the whole; constantly admires the poem’s ‘history’
            above the ‘actual’ histories of ‘war and peace’, of ‘our time-ridden minds’,
            of ‘meaningless’ ‘accumulations of facts’, of ‘the scientific and philosoph-
            ical generalisations which dominate our world’; explicitly praises the
            poem’s ‘insight into essential truth’; and confirms the poem’s value to us
            (in 1942, in the midst of the nightmare of wartime history) precisely
            because, like Keats’s urn, it is ‘All breathing human passion far above’ – thus
            stressing ‘the ironic fact that all human passion does leave one cloyed; hence
            the superiority of art’ (our italics).
                As New Criticism is, by definition, a praxis, much of its ‘theory’ occurs
            along the way in more specifically practical essays (as with Brooks above)
            and not as theoretical writing (see below, also, for Leavis’s refusal to theor-
            ize his position or engage in ‘philosophical’ extrapolation). But there are
            two New Critical essays in particular which are overtly theoretical and which
            have become influential texts more generally in modern critical discourse:
            ‘The Intentional Fallacy’ (1946) and ‘The Affective Fallacy’ (1949), written
            by W. K. Wimsatt – a professor of English at Yale University and author of
            the symptomatically titled book, The Verbal Icon: Studies in the Meaning of
            Poetry (1954) – in collaboration with Monroe C. Beardsley, a philosopher
            of aesthetics. Both essays, influenced by Eliot and Richards, engage with the
            ‘addresser’ (writer) –‘message’ (text) –‘addressee’ (reader) nexus outlined in
            the Introduction, in the pursuit of an ‘objective’ criticism which abjures both
            the personal input of the writer (‘intention’) and the emotional effect on
            the reader (‘affect’) in order purely to study the ‘words on the page’ and
            how the artefact ‘works’. The first essay argues that ‘the design or intention
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            of the author is neither available nor desirable as a standard for judging the
            success of a work of literary art’; that a poem ‘goes about the world beyond
            [the author’s] power to intend about it or control it’ – it ‘belongs to the
            public’; that it should be understood in terms of the ‘dramatic speaker’ of
            the text, not the author; and be judged only by whether it ‘works’ or not.
            Much critical debate has since raged about the place of intention in criti-
            cism, and continues to do so: Wimsatt and Beardsley’s position strikes a
            chord, for example, with poststructuralist notions of the ‘death of the author’
            (see below, pp. 149–50) and with deconstruction’s freeing of the text from
            ‘presence’ and ‘meaning’. But there the resemblance ends, for the New Critics
            still basically insist that there is a determinate, ontologically stable ‘poem
            itself ’, which is the ultimate arbiter of its own ‘statement’, and that an ‘object-
            ive’ criticism is possible. This runs quite counter to deconstruction’s notion
            of the ‘iterability’ of a text in its multiplex ‘positioned’ rereadings.
                 This difference becomes very much clearer in the second essay, which
            argues that the ‘affective fallacy’ represents ‘a confusion between the poem
            and its results’: ‘trying to derive the standard of criticism from the psycho-
            logical effects of the poem . . . ends in impressionism and relativism’.
            Opposing the ‘classical objectivity’ of New Criticism to ‘romantic reader
            psychology’, it asserts that the outcome of both fallacies is that ‘the poem
            itself, as an object of specifically critical judgement, tends to disappear’. And
            the importance of a poem in classic New Critical terms is that by ‘fixing
            emotions and making them more permanently perceptible’, by the ‘survival’
            of ‘its clear and nicely interrelated meanings, its completeness, balance,
            and tension’, it represents ‘the most precise emotive report on customs’: ‘In
            short, though cultures have changed, poems remain and explain.’ Poems,
            in other words, are our cultural heritage, permanent and valuable artefacts;
            and therein lies the crucial difference from more contemporary theoretical
            positions.
                 As we have noted, New Criticism focused principally on poetry, but
            two essays by Mark Schorer, ‘Technique as Discovery’ (1948) and ‘Fiction
            and the Analogical Matrix’ (1949), mark the attempt to deploy New Critical
            practice in relation to prose fiction. In the first of these, Schorer notes:
            ‘Modern criticism has shown us that to speak of content as such is not to
            speak of art at all, but of experience; and that it is only when we speak
            of the achieved content, the form, the work of art as a work of art, that
            we speak as critics. The difference between content, or experience, and
            achieved content, or art, is technique.’ This, he adds, has not been followed
            through in regard to the novel, whose own ‘technique’ is language, and
            whose own ‘achieved content’ – or ‘discovery’ of what it is saying – can
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            he was a Chicago Aristotelian. His book The Rhetoric of Fiction (1961) has
            been widely read and highly regarded, although latterly contemporary crit-
            ical theory has demonstrated its limitations and inadequacies (by Fredric
            Jameson, see Chapter 5, p. 105, and implicitly by much ‘reader-oriented’
            theory, see Chapter 3). Booth’s project was to examine ‘the art of commun-
            icating with readers – the rhetorical resources available to the writer of epic,
            novel or short story as he tries, consciously or unconsciously, to impose his
            fictional world upon the reader’. Although accepting in New Critical terms
            that a novel is an ‘autonomous’ text, Booth develops a key concept with
            the notion that it nevertheless contains an authorial ‘voice’ – the ‘implied
            author’ (his or her ‘official scribe’ or ‘second self’) – whom the reader invents
            by deduction from the attitudes articulated in the fiction. Once this dis-
            tinction between author and the ‘authorial voice’ is made, the way is open
            to analyse, in and for themselves, the many and various forms of narration
            which construct the text. A major legacy of Booth’s is his separating out of
            ‘reliable’ and ‘unreliable’ narrators – the former, usually in the third per-
            son, coming close to the values of the ‘implied author’; the latter, often
            a character within the story, a deviant from them. What Booth did was
            at once to enhance the formal equipment available for analysis of the
            ‘rhetoric of fiction’ and, paradoxically perhaps, to promote the belief that
            authors do mean to ‘impose’ their values on the reader and that ‘reliabil-
            ity’ is therefore a good thing. We may see here a consonance with the ‘moral
            formalism’ of Leavis, and the reason why poststructuralist narratology has
            gone beyond Booth.
            ‘experience’, to prove its moral force, and to demonstrate (by close scrutiny)
            its excellence. The passage from Eliot which gave Leavis his title for The
            Common Pursuit speaks of the critic’s task as engaging in ‘the common pur-
            suit of true judgement’, and Revaluation (1936) is an Eliot-like sorting-out
            of the ‘true’ tradition of English poetry, just as The Great Tradition (1948)
            itself opens with the classic Leavisian ‘discrimination’ that ‘The great
            English novelists are’ Jane Austen, George Eliot, Henry James and Joseph
            Conrad – a dogmatic and exclusive list which immediately suggests just how
            tendentious Leavis’s ‘true judgement’ may, in fact, be. A major plank in Leavis’s
            platform, in other words, is to identify the ‘great works’ of literature, to sift
            out the dross (‘mass’ or ‘popular’ fiction, for example), and to establish the
            Arnoldian and Eliotian ‘tradition’ or ‘canon’. This is necessary because these
            are the works which should be taught in a university English course as part
            of the process of cultural filtering, refining and revitalizing which such courses
            undertake on behalf of the nation’s cultural health. In particular, such works
            will promote the values of ‘Life’ (the crucial Leavisian word, never defined:
            ‘the major novelists . . . are significant in terms of that human awareness
            they promote; awareness of the possibilities of life’) against the forces
            of materialism, barbarism and industrialism in a ‘technologico-Benthamite’
            society: they represent a ‘minority culture’, in other words, embattled with
            a ‘mass civilisation’.
                Just as Leavis’s moral fervour distinguishes him from the more abstract
            or aesthetic formalism of the New Critics, so too does his emphatically soci-
            ological and historical sense. Literature is a weapon in the battle of cultural
            politics, and much of the ‘great’ literature of the past (especially but not
            exclusively, from before Eliot’s ‘dissociation of sensibility’ in the seventeenth
            century) bears witness to the ‘organic’ strength of pre-industrial cultures.
            The past and past literature, as for Arnold and Eliot once more, act as a
            measure of the ‘wasteland’ of the present age – although the work of the
            ‘great’ moderns (Eliot and D. H. Lawrence, for example), in its ‘necessary’
            difficulty, complexity and commitment to cultural values, is also mobilized
            on ‘Life’s’ behalf in the inimical world of the twentieth century. As for the
            New Critics, too, great works of literature are vessels in which humane val-
            ues survive; but for Leavis they are also to be actively deployed in an ethico-
            sociological cultural politics. Paradoxically then, and precisely because of
            this, Leavis’s project is both elitist and culturally pessimistic. It is perhaps
            not surprising, therefore, that in the twentieth century it became so pro-
            foundly popular and influential; had indeed until quite recently become
            naturalized as ‘Literary Studies’. (In this context, see Perry Anderson’s
            critique of Leavisism in ‘Components of the National Culture’, 1968, in which
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            Selected reading
            Key texts
            Arnold, Matthew, Culture and Anarchy [1869], ed. J. Dover Wilson
                (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge [1932], 1971).
            Arnold, Matthew, Essays in Criticism, Second Series, 1888.
            Booth, Wayne C., The Rhetoric of Fiction (University of Chicago Press,
                Chicago, 1961).
            Brooks, Cleanth, The Well-Wrought Urn: Studies in the Structure of Poetry
                [1947] (Methuen, London, 1968).
            Brooks, Cleanth and Warren, Robert Penn (eds), Understanding Poetry:
                An Anthology for College Students (Henry Holt, New York, 1938).
            Brooks, Cleanth and Warren, Robert Penn (eds), Understanding Fiction
                (Appleton-Century-Crofts, New York, 1943).
            Crane, R. S. (ed.), Critics and Criticism: Ancient and Modern (Chicago
                University Press, Chicago, 1952; abridged, with Crane’s Preface,
                1957).
            Eliot, T. S., Notes Towards the Definition of Culture (Faber, London, 1948).
            Eliot, T. S., Selected Essays [1932] (Faber, London, 1965).
            Empson, William, Seven Types of Ambiguity [1930] (Penguin,
               Harmondsworth, 1961).
            Empson, William, Some Versions of Pastoral [1935] (Penguin,
               Harmondsworth, 1966).
            Leavis, F. R., New Bearings in English Poetry [1932] (Penguin,
                Harmondsworth, 1963).
            Leavis, F. R., Revaluation [1936] (Penguin, Harmondsworth, 1978).
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            Further reading
            Baldick, Chris, The Social Mission of English Criticism (reprint edn, Oxford
                 University Press, Oxford, 1988).
            Doyle, Brian, English and Englishness (Routledge, London, 1989).
            Eagleton, Terry, Literary Theory: An Introduction (1983) (2nd edn,
                 Blackwell, Oxford, 1996).
            Fekete, John, The Critical Twilight: Explorations in the Ideology of Anglo-
                American Literary Theory from Eliot to McLuhan (Routledge, London,
                1977).
            Graff, Gerald, Professing Literature: An Institutional History (Chicago
                University Press, Chicago, 1987).
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