“If you want better books, cancel all awards, follow no leaders. Write as well as you can; never as others tell you.”
I grew up thinking writers
didn’t play well with others. They were by nature wayward, which is not always
a virtue. I intend it to mean herd-defying, sometimes self-damagingly indifferent
to the tyranny of fashion. Such writers may be wrong but often they are
interestingly wrong and are unlikely to seek your approval. What they have to
say is usually more important than that. Who am I describing? Good examples: Dr.
Johnson, Lamb, Hazlitt, Beerbohm, Mencken, Guy Davenport. None is merely eccentric
or an exhibitionist, and none could be mistaken for anyone else. It occurs to
me that all excelled at essay-writing, and perhaps that is a defining quality
of writers born to that form. Another member of the fraternity writes:
“What the essayist confronting a subject usually has to confess is that he or she is not quite like other men or women -- but then, it turns out, neither are most men and women like other men and women. That seems to me perhaps the chief value of personal essayists: by displaying their individuality, they remind readers of their own individuality.”
That would be Joseph
Epstein in his introduction to The Norton Book of Personal Essays
(1997). Now eighty-four, Epstein is our premiere living essayist and all-around man of
letters. Last December he triggered a national tantrum when, in a brief essay
for the Wall Street Journal, he gently chided the incoming First Lady
for her use of “Dr.” as a title, though she is not a medical doctor. It’s a common
academic vanity, worthy of a little mockery. Naturally, Epstein was accused of
misogyny, among
other crimes. More evidence that humorlessness is the true pandemic. I wrote
about the brouhaha here.
Only this week did I learn
that Epstein’s friend Frederic Raphael, author of the passage quoted at the top, addressed the silliness last March in “Public Enemy Number Whatever,” published in The Critic. Raphael is a Chicago-born
novelist and screenwriter who has lived in England for most of his life. Together, he and Epstein published
two collections of their email correspondence: Distant Intimacy: A Friendship
in the Age of the Internet (Yale University Press, 2013) and Where Were
We?: The Conversation Continues (St. Augustine’s Press, 2017). Both are
funny, learned, entertaining and eminently wayward.
Raphael defends a friend and
non-aligned writers in general. They, too, are an endangered species. He closes
his essay like this:
“Keep up with the going buzz-words, all you once-brave individualists, or prepare to live a life of tier-six isolation. Rochefoucauld said, smartly, that there is something about the misfortunes of our friends which does not entirely displease us. Fiche-moi la paix, monsieur le duc, innit? Joe Epstein’s experience disgusts me and gives me no pleasure whatsoever.”
3 comments:
Haha, I’m not sure if it was a note of irony (it seemed genuine) but it’s interesting Raphael would say that Epstein’s career was controversy free until this point. I believe Epstein has been eliciting controversy since the 70s & this article was certainly not the first of this century! But it’s only fair to add that virtually no good writer has had a controversy-free life.
Thank you for the quote at the top and the link to the rest of the Raphael piece. I was just thinking yesterday that I hadn't recently seen anything by Epstein.
I've read Joseph Epstein since the 1980s. If he hadn't named Jill Biden, Ed.D, in his squib about valueless doctorate degrees, it would have created little furor. My brother, a high school dropout, paid $50 for ordination by the Church of the Inner Springs without doing any coursework. The fictional Reverend Jeremiah H.W. Twiddle refused an honorary Doctorate of Divinity, which would have given him the title Jeremiah H.W. Twiddle, D.D.
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