Looking Backward, 2000 to 1887

by Edward Bellamy

  Chapter 15

  When, in the course of our tour of inspection, we came to the library,we succumbed to the temptation of the luxurious leather chairs withwhich it was furnished, and sat down in one of the book-lined alcovesto rest and chat awhile.[1]

  "Edith tells me that you have been in the library all the morning,"said Mrs. Leete. "Do you know, it seems to me, Mr. West, that you arethe most enviable of mortals."

  "I should like to know just why," I replied.

  "Because the books of the last hundred years will be new to you," sheanswered. "You will have so much of the most absorbing literature toread as to leave you scarcely time for meals these five years to come.Ah, what would I give if I had not already read Berrian's novels."

  "Or Nesmyth's, mamma," added Edith.

  "Yes, or Oates' poems, or 'Past and Present,' or, 'In the Beginning,'or--oh, I could name a dozen books, each worth a year of one's life,"declared Mrs. Leete, enthusiastically.

  "I judge, then, that there has been some notable literature produced inthis century."

  "Yes," said Dr. Leete. "It has been an era of unexampled intellectualsplendor. Probably humanity never before passed through a moral andmaterial evolution, at once so vast in its scope and brief in its timeof accomplishment, as that from the old order to the new in the earlypart of this century. When men came to realize the greatness of thefelicity which had befallen them, and that the change through whichthey had passed was not merely an improvement in details of theircondition, but the rise of the race to a new plane of existence with anillimitable vista of progress, their minds were affected in all theirfaculties with a stimulus, of which the outburst of the mediaevalrenaissance offers a suggestion but faint indeed. There ensued an eraof mechanical invention, scientific discovery, art, musical andliterary productiveness to which no previous age of the world offersanything comparable."

  "By the way," said I, "talking of literature, how are books publishednow? Is that also done by the nation?"

  "Certainly."

  "But how do you manage it? Does the government publish everything thatis brought it as a matter of course, at the public expense, or does itexercise a censorship and print only what it approves?"

  "Neither way. The printing department has no censorial powers. It isbound to print all that is offered it, but prints it only on conditionthat the author defray the first cost out of his credit. He must payfor the privilege of the public ear, and if he has any message worthhearing we consider that he will be glad to do it. Of course, ifincomes were unequal, as in the old times, this rule would enable onlythe rich to be authors, but the resources of citizens being equal, itmerely measures the strength of the author's motive. The cost of anedition of an average book can be saved out of a year's credit by thepractice of economy and some sacrifices. The book, on being published,is placed on sale by the nation."

  "The author receiving a royalty on the sales as with us, I suppose," Isuggested.

  "Not as with you, certainly," replied Dr. Leete, "but nevertheless inone way. The price of every book is made up of the cost of itspublication with a royalty for the author. The author fixes thisroyalty at any figure he pleases. Of course if he puts it unreasonablyhigh it is his own loss, for the book will not sell. The amount of thisroyalty is set to his credit and he is discharged from other service tothe nation for so long a period as this credit at the rate of allowancefor the support of citizens shall suffice to support him. If his bookbe moderately successful, he has thus a furlough for several months, ayear, two or three years, and if he in the mean time produces othersuccessful work, the remission of service is extended so far as thesale of that may justify. An author of much acceptance succeeds insupporting himself by his pen during the entire period of service, andthe degree of any writer's literary ability, as determined by thepopular voice, is thus the measure of the opportunity given him todevote his time to literature. In this respect the outcome of oursystem is not very dissimilar to that of yours, but there are twonotable differences. In the first place, the universally high level ofeducation nowadays gives the popular verdict a conclusiveness on thereal merit of literary work which in your day it was as far as possiblefrom having. In the second place, there is no such thing now asfavoritism of any sort to interfere with the recognition of true merit.Every author has precisely the same facilities for bringing his workbefore the popular tribunal. To judge from the complaints of thewriters of your day, this absolute equality of opportunity would havebeen greatly prized."

  "In the recognition of merit in other fields of original genius, suchas music, art, invention, design," I said, "I suppose you follow asimilar principle."

  "Yes," he replied, "although the details differ. In art, for example,as in literature, the people are the sole judges. They vote upon theacceptance of statues and paintings for the public buildings, and theirfavorable verdict carries with it the artist's remission from othertasks to devote himself to his vocation. On copies of his work disposedof, he also derives the same advantage as the author on sales of hisbooks. In all these lines of original genius the plan pursued is thesame to offer a free field to aspirants, and as soon as exceptionaltalent is recognized to release it from all trammels and let it havefree course. The remission of other service in these cases is notintended as a gift or reward, but as the means of obtaining more andhigher service. Of course there are various literary, art, andscientific institutes to which membership comes to the famous and isgreatly prized. The highest of all honors in the nation, higher thanthe presidency, which calls merely for good sense and devotion to duty,is the red ribbon awarded by the vote of the people to the greatauthors, artists, engineers, physicians, and inventors of thegeneration. Not over a certain number wear it at any one time, thoughevery bright young fellow in the country loses innumerable nights'sleep dreaming of it. I even did myself."

  "Just as if mamma and I would have thought any more of you with it,"exclaimed Edith; "not that it isn't, of course, a very fine thing tohave."

  "You had no choice, my dear, but to take your father as you found himand make the best of him," Dr. Leete replied; "but as for your mother,there, she would never have had me if I had not assured her that I wasbound to get the red ribbon or at least the blue."

  On this extravagance Mrs. Leete's only comment was a smile.

  "How about periodicals and newspapers?" I said. "I won't deny that yourbook publishing system is a considerable improvement on ours, both asto its tendency to encourage a real literary vocation, and, quite asimportant, to discourage mere scribblers; but I don't see how it can bemade to apply to magazines and newspapers. It is very well to make aman pay for publishing a book, because the expense will be onlyoccasional; but no man could afford the expense of publishing anewspaper every day in the year. It took the deep pockets of ourprivate capitalists to do that, and often exhausted even them beforethe returns came in. If you have newspapers at all, they must, I fancy,be published by the government at the public expense, with governmenteditors, reflecting government opinions. Now, if your system is soperfect that there is never anything to criticize in the conduct ofaffairs, this arrangement may answer. Otherwise I should think the lackof an independent unofficial medium for the expression of publicopinion would have most unfortunate results. Confess, Dr. Leete, that afree newspaper press, with all that it implies, was a redeemingincident of the old system when capital was in private hands, and thatyou have to set off the loss of that against your gains in otherrespects."

  "I am afraid I can't give you even that consolation," replied Dr.Leete, laughing. "In the first place, Mr. West, the newspaper press isby no means the only or, as we look at it, the best vehicle for seriouscriticism of public affairs. To us, the judgments of your newspapers onsuch themes seem generally to have been crude and flippant, as well asdeeply tinctured with prejudice and bitterness. In so far as they maybe taken as expressing public opinion, they give an unfavorableimpression of the popular intelligence, while so far as they may haveformed public opinion, the nation was not
to be felicitated. Nowadays,when a citizen desires to make a serious impression upon the publicmind as to any aspect of public affairs, he comes out with a book orpamphlet, published as other books are. But this is not because we lacknewspapers and magazines, or that they lack the most absolute freedom.The newspaper press is organized so as to be a more perfect expressionof public opinion than it possibly could be in your day, when privatecapital controlled and managed it primarily as a money-making business,and secondarily only as a mouthpiece for the people."

  "But," said I, "if the government prints the papers at the publicexpense, how can it fail to control their policy? Who appoints theeditors, if not the government?"

  "The government does not pay the expense of the papers, nor appointtheir editors, nor in any way exert the slightest influence on theirpolicy," replied Dr. Leete. "The people who take the paper pay theexpense of its publication, choose its editor, and remove him whenunsatisfactory. You will scarcely say, I think, that such a newspaperpress is not a free organ of popular opinion."

  "Decidedly I shall not," I replied, "but how is it practicable?"

  "Nothing could be simpler. Supposing some of my neighbors or myselfthink we ought to have a newspaper reflecting our opinions, and devotedespecially to our locality, trade, or profession. We go about among thepeople till we get the names of such a number that their annualsubscriptions will meet the cost of the paper, which is little or bigaccording to the largeness of its constituency. The amount of thesubscriptions marked off the credits of the citizens guarantees thenation against loss in publishing the paper, its business, youunderstand, being that of a publisher purely, with no option to refusethe duty required. The subscribers to the paper now elect somebody aseditor, who, if he accepts the office, is discharged from other serviceduring his incumbency. Instead of paying a salary to him, as in yourday, the subscribers pay the nation an indemnity equal to the cost ofhis support for taking him away from the general service. He managesthe paper just as one of your editors did, except that he has nocounting-room to obey, or interests of private capital as against thepublic good to defend. At the end of the first year, the subscribersfor the next either re-elect the former editor or choose any one elseto his place. An able editor, of course, keeps his place indefinitely.As the subscription list enlarges, the funds of the paper increase, andit is improved by the securing of more and better contributors, just asyour papers were."

  "How is the staff of contributors recompensed, since they cannot bepaid in money?"

  "The editor settles with them the price of their wares. The amount istransferred to their individual credit from the guarantee credit of thepaper, and a remission of service is granted the contributor for alength of time corresponding to the amount credited him, just as toother authors. As to magazines, the system is the same. Thoseinterested in the prospectus of a new periodical pledge enoughsubscriptions to run it for a year; select their editor, whorecompenses his contributors just as in the other case, the printingbureau furnishing the necessary force and material for publication, asa matter of course. When an editor's services are no longer desired, ifhe cannot earn the right to his time by other literary work, he simplyresumes his place in the industrial army. I should add that, thoughordinarily the editor is elected only at the end of the year, and as arule is continued in office for a term of years, in case of any suddenchange he should give to the tone of the paper, provision is made fortaking the sense of the subscribers as to his removal at any time."

  "However earnestly a man may long for leisure for purposes of study ormeditation," I remarked, "he cannot get out of the harness, if Iunderstand you rightly, except in these two ways you have mentioned. Hemust either by literary, artistic, or inventive productivenessindemnify the nation for the loss of his services, or must get asufficient number of other people to contribute to such an indemnity."

  "It is most certain," replied Dr. Leete, "that no able-bodied mannowadays can evade his share of work and live on the toil of others,whether he calls himself by the fine name of student or confesses tobeing simply lazy. At the same time our system is elastic enough togive free play to every instinct of human nature which does not aim atdominating others or living on the fruit of others' labor. There is notonly the remission by indemnification but the remission by abnegation.Any man in his thirty-third year, his term of service being then halfdone, can obtain an honorable discharge from the army, provided heaccepts for the rest of his life one half the rate of maintenance othercitizens receive. It is quite possible to live on this amount, thoughone must forego the luxuries and elegancies of life, with some,perhaps, of its comforts."

  When the ladies retired that evening, Edith brought me a book and said:

  "If you should be wakeful to-night, Mr. West, you might be interestedin looking over this story by Berrian. It is considered hismasterpiece, and will at least give you an idea what the storiesnowadays are like."

  I sat up in my room that night reading "Penthesilia" till it grew grayin the east, and did not lay it down till I had finished it. And yetlet no admirer of the great romancer of the twentieth century resent mysaying that at the first reading what most impressed me was not so muchwhat was in the book as what was left out of it. The story-writers ofmy day would have deemed the making of bricks without straw a lighttask compared with the construction of a romance from which should beexcluded all effects drawn from the contrasts of wealth and poverty,education and ignorance, coarseness and refinement, high and low, allmotives drawn from social pride and ambition, the desire of beingricher or the fear of being poorer, together with sordid anxieties ofany sort for one's self or others; a romance in which there should,indeed, be love galore, but love unfretted by artificial barrierscreated by differences of station or possessions, owning no other lawbut that of the heart. The reading of "Penthesilia" was of more valuethan almost any amount of explanation would have been in giving mesomething like a general impression of the social aspect of thetwentieth century. The information Dr. Leete had imparted was indeedextensive as to facts, but they had affected my mind as so manyseparate impressions, which I had as yet succeeded but imperfectly inmaking cohere. Berrian put them together for me in a picture.

  [1] I cannot sufficiently celebrate the glorious liberty that reigns inthe public libraries of the twentieth century as compared with theintolerable management of those of the nineteenth century, in which thebooks were jealously railed away from the people, and obtainable onlyat an expenditure of time and red tape calculated to discourage anyordinary taste for literature.