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On the Art of Polemical Writing: Twain, Mencken, Vidal and Hitchens By Mark Grueter --------------------------------------- The art of invective resembles the art of boxing. Very few fights are won with the straight left. It is too obvious, and it can be too easily countered. The best punches, like the best pieces of invective in this style, are either short-arm jabs, unexpectedly rapid and deadly; or else one-two blows, where you prepare your opponent with the first hit, and then, as his face comes forward, connect with your other fist: one, two. Both are effective; but they can be administered only by a real artist, with a real wish to knock his enemy out. - Gilbert Highet In the United States there are two political parties of equal size. One is the party that votes in presidential elections. The other is the party that does not vote in presidential elections. - Gore Vidal in 1980 In the late 1970’s conservative Norman Podhoretz wrote an article titled “The Culture of Appeasement,” in which he attempted to demonstrate that Americans, because of the Vietnam debacle, did not like war anymore. He then compared America to England in the 1930’s, where a strong pacifist movement existed, led by the homosexual community. In 1979, Gore Vidal countered: Aside from the fact that quite as many faggots like war as heterosexualists (Cardinal Spellman, Senator Joe McCarthy, General Walker), the argument makes no sense. When the English were ready to fight Hitler, they fought… But Podhoretz is not exactly disinterested. As a publicist for Israel, he fears that a craven United States might one day refuse to go to war to protect Israel from its numerous enemies. Although I don’t think that he has much to worry about, it does his cause no good to attribute our country’s alleged pacifism to a homosexual conspiracy. After all, that is the sort of mad thinking that inspired Hitler to kill not only 6,000,000 Jews but also 600,000 homosexualists. Vidal shocks and divides. By employing the word “faggot” he intends to alarm while simultaneously implying, in a way, that this is how Podhoretz and his ilk privately refer to homosexuals. And what was that? “Tail Gunner” Joseph McCarthy was gay? Furthermore, as a result of the sort of comments made in paragraph two, many liberals accused Vidal of anti-Semitism. However, Vidal manages to get away with it all because a certain amount of wit and charm jumps off the page; most inferior writers would not have been heard from again after making statements as such - because artful invective is no simple task. In 1992, Robert Boyers sought to undermine Vidal’s approach in an essay titled, “On Gore Vidal: Wit and the Work of Criticism.” The article praises Vidal’s ability to combine “reverent wonder” with “hyperbole and satire.” For instance, when Vidal was running for Congress in 1960 he boasted to a reporter, “I say 80 percent of what I think, a hell of a lot more than any politician I know.” Boyers recognizes that Vidal possesses that rare skill as an essayist to make readers laugh out loud on a regular basis; but that’s about as much credit as he is willing to grant Vidal. Boyers is unimpressed because, “…Vidal takes on issues much too large for the virtues or instincts of a light, occasional essayist.” He harshly concludes that “in no other writer of our day do we see so clear a gap between unimpeachable literary gifts and comparably drastic disabilities of mind, spirit, and purpose.” A wit, yes, a serious critic, no. What does Boyers cite as proof? In the same article quoted above, Vidal wrote that “in the Sixties, Podhoretz wrote a celebrated piece in which he confessed that he didn’t like niggers.” Boyers takes exception to this: …(He) deliberately misleads his reader in the sentence…So what if the word “niggers” belongs not to Podhoretz but to Vidal?…Podhoretz is in any case a political reactionary with a rotten record on important issues and therefore fair game for anything one might wish to suggest about him. What’s more, his mother probably wore combat boots, and her son is widely reputed to have slandered his enemies and distorted their record. Why be so fastidious in dealing with the likes of Norman? And Boyers assures all that “Vidal’s distortions are not limited to occasional passages.” However, I contend that Boyers addresses the matter too literally. Vidal prudently assumes that most of his readers understand that when he uses the word “niggers” he is not quoting Podhoretz directly - he does not have to - (nor is Vidal, obviously, revealing any racist attitude on his own part). Rather, this risky tactic has the effect of telling a greater truth about how Podhoretz really feels. Essentially, in the relevant article, “My Negro Problem, and Ours” Podhoretz does admit to an extreme dislike of “negroes,” so Vidal’s slight overstatement feels earned because it provides both a more profound insight and a sardonic effect. One must read between the lines. The ironic mind does not fail to appreciate Vidal’s provocative style here, even if one is not inclined to agree that Podhoretz is a hardcore racist. Moreover, it is inaccurate to describe Vidal as a “light” essayist as Boyers does. A penchant for originally witty and sarcastic rhetoric woven throughout a discussion should not be confused with ‘lightness’. On the contrary, it often suggests a more penetrating and critical understanding of the issues. Creative leeway has always been granted to those novelists and letter writers who are able to pull off a controversial use of rhetoric with talent and grace. Academic writers are held to a different standard than journalists and essayists; Boyers does not acknowledge this distinction in his seemingly subtle indictment of Vidal. He criticizes Vidal for relying on assertion: “If Vidal showed any willingness to substantiate such sentiments one would be ready to take them - and him - seriously.” But one and many already have taken (and still do take) Vidal seriously, so what can Boyers mean by this? If Vidal were forced to scrupulously substantiate every single claim he made throughout a piece, then his brilliant prose style would certainly suffer; Boyers’ demand is tantamount to asking Gore Vidal not to be Gore Vidal. Most academic writing strives to be purely logical and literal, and therefore is usually quite dry and often quite unreadable. Certainly, there is a need for academic works that are carefully substantiated and explanatory as well as provocative and well written. But should there not be room left over in our discourse for expository writing that is polemical and argumentative, humorous and even insulting? An inventive and even entertaining style of writing that can still be taken “seriously?” Writers, throughout history, who express truth and beauty, often do so by way of fiction, satire or exaggeration. So why should Boyers insist that Vidal tone down his marvelous sense of irony and bore his readers - the latter a habit possessed by most other writers - in order to be taken seriously? *
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Writers have to make choices. Is the goal to persuade, to inform, to entertain, to explain, to enlighten, to inspire, to define the debate, or to offend? Or is it some combination of all these? Essay writers are typically instructed to give sober, even-handed and/or “reasoned” analyses in an attempt to persuade - so that adversaries will, at the very least, give consideration to the argument (ad hominem uses of language are conventionally seen as a sign of weakness). But with what frequency is a writer who heeds this advice actually able to change the mind of an antagonist? And are not the faculties to convince and rally a social or political movement/issue, or to shape the way issues are discussed, just as important as the - usually fruitless - attempts to convert others to the cause? Keep note of how people who claim to be turned off by an essay citing an overabundance of “personal attacks” usually wind up opposing the argument itself, too. I remember furnishing an atheist friend with an extended essay by Christopher Hitchens detailing the corrupt practices of Mother Theresa (“The Missionary Position”). My friend returned the text to me three days later. He claimed that he didn’t like it because of all the alleged “ad hominem” insults hurled by the author. As time went on, the subject came back up and I found myself debating the substance of Hitchens’ critique, rather than the author’s use of ridicule, with this friend of mine. So, as it turned out, he was a closet sympathizer to MT and would have been unpersuaded by the book regardless, with or without the personal jabs. Not solely based on this evidence, however, have I become convinced that the campaign against the ‘ad hominem’ use of language is a red herring. Personal considerations are often times very much connected to the main subject at hand. Personality and character matter. Language, through satire, dramatic flair, and a willingness to attack and criticize opponents, should be used as much as possible to advance a worthy agenda - even if some pretend to find certain tactics unpalatable. If a contender in the battle of ideas is unwilling to go on the offensive, he is certain to be defeated anyway, by ready combatants eager to wield the sword. One of my professors unwittingly encouraged me to take this matter up when he criticized Karl Marx for “coarsening the dialogue” by attempting to “annihilate” his adversaries through argumentation and certain uses of rhetoric. I have read a good deal of Marx, and have never come across any language I would consider coarse, so I was a little surprised by this rebuke. I certainly accept the notion that Marx hoped to verbally - as well logically - deride and ruin his enemies, but I have yet to encounter any passages that have “coarsened” the collective dialogue. I’m still searching. And I challenge anyone to find an example of Marx being coarse. I have not read “The Holy Family,” which I am told contains coarse invective. Certainly, the word ‘coarse’ itself is open to interpretation; Marx often used words like ‘nonsense’ and ‘humbug’ but I don’t see how that coarsens anything. Toward the end of the essay, I will cite a truly coarse construction. Marx is certainly not the only modern philosopher guilty of applying invective. Early Nietzsche once described Christianity as “untruthful and hypocritical.” In The Genealogy of Morals, Nietzsche intensifies his critique of religion by encouraging readers to avoid mysticism and spirituality altogether, because they will lead to “nothingness” and/or a “sinister detour to a new (European-style of) Buddhism.” In the following passage, Nietzsche sought to dismiss Hegel’s doctrine of freedom and state as: …A relapse not into paganism but into stupidity. It may be that a man who sees his highest duty in serving the state really knows no higher duties; but there are men and duties existing beyond this - and one of the duties that seems, at least to me, to be higher than serving the state demands that one destroys stupidity in every form… Representing the more conventional view, Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote that “criticism should not be querulous and wasting, all knife and rootpuller, but guiding, instructive, inspiring.” This prefigures our notion of ‘constructive criticism’ as superlative. The concept of “civility” has become increasingly popular. Michel Foucalt was against polemic; in fact, he wrote a few, widely read polemics condemning the practice. And it is probably legitimate, at least, to ask if criticism, when turned strictly into an ad hominem attack or a piece of smug condescension, can be taken too far. Frequently, personal insults are taken to the point where they become completely ineffectual and/or repugnant because they lack wit. Few enjoy reading a poorly executed piece of invective. Again, it is a tricky art. With regard to this lack of clarity and consensus over tactics, questions arise. Should there be certain rules established for polemical writing? A liberal Professor of English at California Polytechnic State University named Donald Lazere thinks so. In an essay titled, “Ground Rules for Polemicists” he lists nine rules for aspiring polemicists to follow. Some are useful in the way of advice, but would not setting up boundaries for polemics trample upon the entire spirit of the endeavor? Lazere’s rule number 9: “Do not substitute derision for reasoned argument and analysis.” Why not? Sometimes, as Vidal and others have shown, derision can be more potent and efficient than tedious, robotic analysis. The strongest polemical writing relies on ingenuity, imagination and thwarting barriers - the very barriers Professor Lazere hopes to solidify. Vince Lombardi, correcting a reporter, noted that “football is not a contact sport - it is a collision sport; dancing is a contact sport.” The modern Right already understands that politics is a fight that involves the collision of ideas. Politics is inherently controversial and divisive - there is no way around this. In order to advance a cause, competing ideas sometimes need to be attacked and exposed through language. The only honorable recourse is to refine the art of the attack - to make it deadly, even vicious, yet somehow charming, polished, intelligent. Writing can cut and slash; writers should see themselves as both heart surgeons handling scalpels as well as Green Berets wielding Bowie knives. Polemics should develop a highly personalized style. They should somehow include humor as well, especially if the author intends to be serious about a subject, and not the other way around. “Nothing so much empowers a magazine or a movement as an ability to be witty and sarcastic; nothing condemns a regime so much as a fear of laughter,” writes Hitchens. These ought to be the goals of every young polemicist starting out in life. Another writer who was able to turn polemic into art, exposition and comedy was Henry Louis Mencken. In 1921, he wrote the following about President Warren Harding’s literary style: I rise to pay my small tribute to Dr. Harding. Setting aside a college professor or two and half a dozen dipsomaniacal newspaper reporters, he takes the first place in my Valhalla of literati. That is to say, he writes the worst English that I have ever encountered. It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean-soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm (I was about to write abscess!) of pish, and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash. More so than Vidal, Mencken’s views were guided by his contempt for religion. Some of his most formidable work involved a defense of the public school teacher, John Scopes - a man who daringly hoped to teach evolution instead of creation in science class. The Great Commoner, William Jennings Bryan, one of Mencken’s preferred targets, assisted the state of Tennessee in its prosecution of Scopes. At the end of the trial, Bryan passed away and Mencken - who was also in attendance at the Dayton courthouse - penned an infamous obituary titled “In Memoriam: WJB” - part of which read: It was hard to believe, watching Bryan at Dayton, that he had traveled, that he had been received in civilized societies, that he had been a high officer of state. He seemed only a poor clod like those around him, deluded by a childish theology, full of an almost pathological hatred of all learning, all human dignity, all beauty, all fine and noble things. He was a peasant come home to the barnyard. Imagine a gentleman, and you have imagined everything that he was not. What animated him from end to end of his grotesque career was simply ambition - the ambition of a common man to get his hand upon the collar of his superiors, or, failing that, to get his thumb into their eyes. Mencken was unrelenting in his campaign against “Holy Rollers” and rubes or the “Booboisie”(my favorite coined term of his). He once accurately wrote that, “Faith may be defined briefly as an illogical belief in the occurrence of the improbable. A man full of faith is simply one who has lost (or never had) the capacity for clear and realistic thought. He is not a mere ass; he is actually ill. Worse, he is incurable.” Gore Vidal also reserved a special distaste for individuals he referred to as “Christers” but usually because of their penchant for obstructing abortion and homosexual rights as well as for their posing and hypocrisy. The only non-native born American I’d like to highlight is a man I referred to earlier, Christopher Hitchens. In an article written in 2001 claiming a just military victory in Afghanistan titled, “Ha, ha, ha to the pacifists” Hitchens taunts his adversaries: …If the silly policy of a Ramadan pause had been adopted, the citizens of Kabul would have still been under a regime of medieval cruelty, and their oppressors would have been busily regrouping, not praying. Anyhow, what a damn-fool proposal to start with. I don't stop insulting the Christian coalition at Eastertime. Come Yom Kippur I tend to step up my scornful remarks about Zionism. Whatever happened to the robust secularism that used to help characterize the left? And why is it suddenly only the injured feelings of Muslims that count? A couple of years ago, the same people were striking pompous attitudes about the need to avoid offending Serbian and therefore Russian Orthodox sensitivities. Except that those sensitive people, or their leaders, were engaged in putting the Muslims of Europe to the sword... …Well, ha ha ha, and yah, boo. It was obvious from the very start that the United States had no alternative but to do what it has done. It was also obvious that defeat was impossible…But if, as the peaceniks like to moan, more Bin Ladens will spring up to take his place, I can offer this assurance: should that be the case, there are many many more who will also spring up to kill him all over again. And there are more of us and we are both smarter and nicer, as well as surprisingly insistent that our culture demands respect, too. Now, a polemic that perhaps “coarsens” the dialogue a bit can be found among the left-wing assaults on Hitchens himself. This one is taken from an online publication called CounterPunch, edited by Alexander Cockburn (it is not just some rag either - many GF professors have written for it as a matter of fact). The article, referencing Hitchens’ book Letters to a Young Contrarian - brace yourselves - is titled, “Letter to a Lying, Self-Serving, Fat-Assed, Chain-Smoking, Drunken, Opportunistic, Cynical Contrarian (a.k.a. C.Hitchens)” and it was written by a man that who himself Jack McCarthy. Here’s how it begins: Hitchens,
you fucking fat-assed drunken slut. In an attempt to be fair to McCarthy, I’ve only reproduced the best part of his screed. This proves once again that inter-party disputes become more embittered than any cross-party rivalries. I include this in the hope that it will provide a frame of reference for those who are inclined to dismiss any of my prior examples as inappropriate uses of rhetoric. I would not even argue that this attack is “inappropriate” because I don’t believe in any such restrictions, but that is a secondary consideration. Either a work is effective, or it is not - that is the only standard I abide. However, this example may help draw a distinction between a laudable, nuanced, refined piece of invective or polemic and, well, a coarse one. Mark Twain believed that one could not write good satire about something one hated. P.G. Wodehouse spent a lifetime satirizing, often ruthlessly, the British upper-classes, but one could always detect a certain amount of fondness from Wodehouse for his objects of mockery, as portrayed through mentally negligible though lovable characters like Bertram Wooster. On the other hand, Hitchens, for instance, effectively satirized Mother Theresa even though he clearly holds nothing but contempt for the “shriveled hell-bat” - so where does that leave us? Twain would probably argue that McCarthy’s piece is ineffective because the author cannot contain, for one second, his hatred for his subject (Hitchens). Again, I find that language typically only becomes inappropriate or offensive if the message that goes along with it is disagreed with. Conservatives have gained ground in American politics and culture because of their willingness to fight, and even to entertain with words. Many liberal “intellectuals” stay out of the fray by feigning superiority to the debate. And if these liberal bystanders have their way, a conservative takeover may soon be complete. Part of the trouble with the left is that it has created a culture of suffocation, in which people are told what to think and how to act - recall Professor Lazere. Emma Goldman foreshadowed the problems of the left when she complained that the right, at least, was having much more fun. During the sixties, the left was the home of experimentation and iconoclasm. Today, it is the home of a controlling, nanny-state mentality and often the status quo. The majority - individuals that are indifferent to faith or that do not take their faith too seriously - are the advocates of civility at all costs. Critics of polemic issue warnings like, “It is no bad preparation for any attempt at exposition … to realize how easily the combative impulse can put us in mental blinkers and make us take another man’s words in the ways in which we can down him with the least trouble” - I.A. Richards. The “combative impulse” is the problem, see? But are we not all, at least covertly, in one degree or another “combative” when engaged in exposition? This Richards quotation misses the more interesting and less obvious aspect of intellectual exchanges. Everybody, involved in presenting a point of view, is guided by a “combative impulse,” whether they choose to admit it or not. Some people are able to hide this fact from superficial observers better than others - but there is no such thing as an “objective” commentator. So, ostensibly insightful - and fashionable - observations as such, actually shed no new light. On the topic of exuding light, Christopher Hitchens notes, “we know from the study of physics that light cannot be shed without first the presence of heat” as his own warning to those that rail against ‘divisive rhetoric’ as generating ‘more heat than light’. The point is that knowledge can only be gained through the clash of ideas. Confrontation and conflict, though often unpleasant for some in the short-run, eventually lead us to an advanced state. Substantial intellectual work can only result from a constant struggle between ideas. Even Emerson, seeming to contradict his remark about “querulous” criticism, agreed that “the doctrine of hatred must be preached as the counteraction to the doctrine of love, when that pules and whines.” Finally, there exists a fine line between polemic and exposition. Artful polemic is exposition and so it would appear that the distinction, in this case, is nonexistent. There is no reason why good polemical writing cannot be considered expository in the literal meanings of both words. The inversion of this is certainly true: the best expository writing is controversial, argumentative or polemical, as well as explanatory. For if writing is not controversial, it is probably not worthy paying attention to. --------------------------------------- Mark Grueter lives in New York City, where he is pursuing his master's in Liberal Studies at the New School University's Graduate Faculty of Political and Social Science. He can be contacted at [email protected]. © 2003 Me Three |
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