Selected Prose of T. S. Eliot

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by Frank Kermode


  blame) and not individual insincerity, which is responsible for the

  hollowness of many political and ecclesiastical utterances. You

  have only to examine the mass of newspaper leading articles, the

  mass of political exhortation, to appreciate the fact that good prose

  cannot be written by a people without convictions. The fundamental objection to fascist doctrine, the one which we conceal from ourselves because it might condemn ourselves as well, is that

  it is pagan. There are other objections too, in the political and

  economic sphere, but they are not objections that we can make

  with dignity until we set our own affairs in order. There are still

  other objections, to oppression and violence and cruelty, but however strongly we feel, these are objections to means and not to ends. It is true that we sometimes use the word 'pagan', and in

  the same context refer to ourselves as 'Christian'. But we always

  dodge the real issue. Our newspapers have done all they could

  with the red herring of the 'German national religion', an eccentricity which is after all no odder than some cults held in Anglo­

  Saxon countries : this 'German national religion' is comforting in

  that it persuades us that we have a Christian civilization ; it helps

  to disguise the fact that our aims, like Germany's, are materialistic.

  And the last thing we should like to do would be to examine the

  'Christianity' which, in such contexts as this, we say we keep.

  If we have got so far as accepting the belief that the only

  alternative to a progressive and insidious adaptation to totalitarian

  worldliness for which the pace is already set, is to aim at a

  Christian society, we need to consider both what kind of a society

  we have at this time, and what a Christian society would be like.

  We should also be quite sure of what we want : if your real ideals

  are those of materialistic efficiency, then the sooner you know

  your own mind, and face the consequences, the better. Those

  who, either complacently or despairingly, suppose that the aim of

  Christianization is chimerical, I am �ot here attempting to

  convert. To those who realize what a well organized pagan society

  would mean for us, there is nothing to say. But it is as well to

  remember that the imposition of a pagan theory of the State does

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  not necessarily mean a wholly pagan society. A compromise

  between the theory of the State and the tradition of society exists

  in Italy, a country which is still mainly agricultural and Catholic.

  The more highly industrialized the country, the more easily a

  materialistic philosophy will flourish in it, and the more deadly

  that philosophy will be. Britain has been highly industrialized

  longer than any other country. And the tendency of unlimited

  industrialism is to create bodies of men and women - of all classes

  - detached from tradition, alienated from religion, and susceptible

  to mass suggestion : in other words, a mob. And a mob will be no

  less a mob if it is well fed, well clothed, well housed, and well

  disciplined.

  The Liberal notion that religion was a matter of private belief

  and of conduct in private life, and that there is no reason why

  Christians should not be able to accommodate themselves to any

  world which treats them good-naturedly, is becoming less and

  less tenable. This notion would seem to have become accepted

  gradually, as a false inference from the subdivision of English

  Christianity into sects, and the happy results of universal toleration. The reason why members of different communions have been able to rub along together, is that in the greater part of the

  ordinary business of life they have shared the same assumptions

  about behaviour. When they have been wrong, they have been

  wrong together. We have less excuse than our ancestors for un­

  Christian conduct, because the growth of an un-Christian society

  about us, its more obvious intrusion upon our lives, has been

  breaking down the comfortable distinction between public and

  private morality. The problem of leading a Christian life in a non­

  Christian society is now very present to us, and it is a very

  different problem from that of the accommodation between an

  Established Church and dissenters. It is not merely the problem

  of a minority in a society of individuals holding an alien belief. It

  is the problem constituted by our implication in a network of

  institutions from which we cannot dissociate ourselves : institutions the operation of which appears no longer neutral, but non­

  Christian. And as for the Christian who is not conscious of his

  dilemma - and he is in the majority - he is becoming more and

  more de-Christianized by all sorts of unconscious pressure :

  paganism holds all the most valuable advertising space. Anything

  like Christian traditions transmitted from generation to generation Vithin the family must disappear, and the small body of Christians will consist entirely of adult recruits. I am saying

  nothing at this point that has not been said before by others, but

  it is relevant. I am not concerned with the problem of Christians

  as a persecuted minority. When the Christian is treated as an

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  enemy of the State, his course is very much harder, but it is

  simpler. I am concerned with the dangers to the tolerated minority ; and in the modern world, it may turn out that the most intolerable thing for Christians is to be tolerated.

  To attempt to make the prospect of a Christian society immediately attractive to those who see no prospect of deriving direct personal benefit from it, would be idle ; even the majority

  of professing Christians may shrink from it. No scheme for a

  change of society can be made to appear immediately palatable,

  except by falsehood, until society has become so desperate that it

  will accept any change. A Christian society only becomes acceptable after you have fairly examined the alternatives. We might, of course, merely sink into an apathetic decline : without faith,

  and therefore without faith in ourselves ; without a philosophy of

  life, either Christian or pagan ; and without art. Or we might get

  a 'totalitarian democracy', different but having much in common

  with other pagan societies, because we shall have changed step by

  step in order to keep pace with them : a state of affairs in which we

  shall have regimentation and conformity, without respect for the

  needs of the individual soul ; the puritanism of a hygienic morality

  in the interest of efficiency ; uniformity of opinion through

  propaganda, and art only encouraged when it flatters the official

  doctrines of the time. To those who can imagine, and are therefore

  repelled by, such a prospect, one can assert that the only possibility of control and balance is a religious control and balance ; that the only hopeful course for a society which would thrive and

  continue its creative activity in the arts of civilization, is to become Christian. That prospect involves, at least, discipline, inconvenience and discomfort : but here as hereafter the alternative to hell is purgatory.

  [ii

  . . . It may be that the conditions unfavourable to the arts today

  lie too de
ep and are too extensive to depend upon the differences

  between one form of government and another ; so that the prospect before us is either of slow continuous decay or of sudden extinction. You cannot, in any scheme for the reformation of

  society, aim directly at a condition in which the arts will flourish :

  these activities are probably by-products for which we cannot

  deliberately arrange the conditions. On the other hand, their

  decay may always be taken as a symptom of some social ailment to

  be investigated. The future of art and thought in a democratic

  society does not appear any brighter than any other, unless

  democracy is to mean something very different from anything

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  actual. It is not that I would defend a moral censorship : I have

  always expressed strong objections to the suppression of books

  possessing, or even laying claim to literary merit. But what is more

  insidious than any censorship, is the steady influence which

  operates silently in any mass society organized for profit, for the

  depression of standards of art and culture. The increasing

  organization of advertisement and propaganda - or the influencing

  of masses of men by any means except through their intelligence is all against them. The economic system is against them ; the chaos of ideals and confusion of thought in our large scale mass

  education is against them ; and against them also is the disappearance of any class of people who recognize public and private responsibility of patronage of the best that is made and written.

  At a period in which each nation has less and less 'culture' for its

  own consumption, all are making furious efforts to export their

  culture, to impress upon each other their achievements in arts

  which they are ceasing to cultivate or understand. And just as

  those who should be the intellectuals regard theology as a special

  study, like numismatics or heraldry, with which they need not

  concern themselves, and theologians observe the same indifference to literature and art, as special studies which do not concern them, so our political classes regard both fields as

  territories of which they have no reason to be ashamed of remaining in complete ignorance. Accordingly the more serious authors have a limited, and even provincial audience, and the more

  popular write for an illiterate and uncritical mob.

  You cannot expect continuity and coherence in politics, you

  cannot expect reliable behaviour on fixed principles persisting

  through changed situations, unless there is an underlying political

  philosophy : not of a party, but of the nation. You cannot expect

  continuity and coherence in literature and the arts, unless you

  have a certain uniformity of culture, expressed in education by a

  settled, though not rigid agreement as to what everyone should

  know to some degree, and a positive distinction - however undemocratic it may sound - between the educated and the uneducated. I observed in America, that with a very high level of intelligence among undergraduates, progress was impeded by the

  fact that one could never assume that any two, unless they had

  been at the same school under the influence of the same masters

  at the same moment, had studied the same subjects or read the

  same books, though the number of subjects in which they had

  been instructed was surprising. Even with a smaller amount of

  total information, it might have been better if they had read fewer,

  but the same books. In a negative liberal society you have no

  agreement as to there being any body of knowledge which any

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  .

  educated persons should have acquired at any particular stage :

  the idea of wisdom disappears, a,nd you get sporadic and unrelated experimentation. A nation's system of education is much more important than its system of government ; only a proper

  system of education can unify the active and the contemplative

  life, action and speculation, politics and the arts. But 'education',

  said Coleridge, 'is to be reformed, and defined as synonymous

  with instruction'. This revolution has been effected : to the

  populace education means instruction. The next step to be taken

  by the clericalism of secularism, is the inculcation of the political

  principles approved by the party in power . . . .

  [iii

  We may say that religion, as distinguished from modern paganism, implies a life in conformity with nature. It may be observed that the natural life and the supernatural life have a conformity to

  each other which neither has with the mechanistic life : but so far

  has our notion of what is natural become distorted, that people

  who consider it 'unnatural' and therefore repugnant, that a person

  of either sex should elect a life of celibacy, consider it perfectly

  'natural' that families should be limited to one or two children. It

  would perhaps be more natural, as well as in better conformity

  with the Will of God, if there were more celibates and if those

  who were married had larger families. But I am thinking of 'conformity to nature' in a wider sense than this. We are being made aware that the organization of society on the principle of private

  profit, as well as public destruction, is leading both to the deformation of humanity by unregulated industrialism, and to the exhaustion of natural resources, and that a good deal of our

  material progress is a progress for which succeeding generations

  may have to pay dearly. I need only mention, as an instance now ·

  very much before the public eye, the results of'soil-erosion' - the

  exploitation of the earth, on a vast scale for two generations, for

  commercial profit : immediate benefits leading to dearth and

  desert. I would not have it thought that I condemn a society

  because of its material ruin, for that would be to make its material

  success a sufficient test of its excellence ; I mean only that a wrong

  attitude towards nature implies, somewhere, a wrong attitude

  towards God, and that the consequence is an inevitable doom.

  For a long enough time we have believed in nothing but the values

  arising in a mechanized, commercialized, urbanized way of life :

  i t would b e a s well for u s t o face the permanent conditions upon

  which God allows us to live upon this planet. And without

  sentimentalizing the life of the savage, we might practise the

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  THE I DEA O F A C H R I S T I A N S O C I ETY

  humility to observe, in some of the societies upon which we look

  down as primitive or backward, the operation of a social-religiousartistic complex which we should emulate upon a higher plane.

  We have been accustomed to regard 'progress' as always integral ;

  and have yet to learn that it is only by an effort and a discipline,

  greater than society has yet seen the need of imposing upon itself,

  that material knowledge and power is gained without loss of

  spiritual knowledge and power. The struggle to recover the sense

  of relation to nature and to God, the recognition that even the

  most primitive feelings should be part of our heritage, seems to

  me to be the explanation and justification of the life of D. H.

  Lawrence, and the excuse for his aberrations. But we need not

  only to le
arn how to look at the world with the eyes of a Mexican

  Indian - and I hardly think that Lawrence succeeded - and we

  certainly cannot afford to stop there. We need to know how to see

  the world as the Christian Fathers saw it; and the purpose of

  reascending to origins is that we should be able to return, with

  greater spiritual knowledge, to our own situation. We need to

  recover the sense of religious fear, so that it may be overcome by

  religious hope.

  from NOTES TOWARDS THE

  D E F I N I T I ON OF CULTURE

  [i

  . . . It is obvious that among the more primitive communities the

  several activities of culture are inextricably interwoven. The

  Dyak who spends the better part of a season in shaping, carving

  and painting his barque of the peculiar design required for the

  annual ritual of head-hunting, is exercising several cultural

  activities at once - of art and religion, as well as of amphibious

  warfare. As civilization becomes more complex, greater occupational specialization evinces itself: in the 'stone age' New Hebrides, Mr. John Layard says, certain islands specialize in particular arts and crafts, exchanging their wares and displaying their accomplishments to the reciprocal satisfaction of the

  members of the archipelago. But while the individuals of a tribe,

  or of a group of islands or villages, may have separate functions of which the most peculiar are those of the king and the witchdoctor - it is only at a much further stage that religion, science, politics and art become abstractly conceived apart from each

  other. And just as the functions of individuals become hereditary,

  and hereditary function hardens into class or caste distinction,

  and class distinction leads to conflict, so do religion, politics,

  science and art reach a point at which there is conscious struggle

  between them for autonomy or dominance. This friction is, at

  some stages and in some situations, highly creative : how far it is

  the result, and how far the cause, of increased consciousness need

  not here be considered. The tension within the society may

  become also a tension within the mind of the more conscious

  individual : the clash of duties in Antigone, which is not simply a

  clash between piety and civil obedience, or between religion and

 

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