“Yesterday I settled for rereading Boswell, starting halfway through, at the year 1772, when Johnson was sixty-three.”
One of the advantages of
returning to a familiar book, especially a “large, loose, baggy monster” like
the Life of Johnson, is the sensation of reentering at almost any point and
feeling at home. There’s no disorientation. When I’m between books, uncertain
what to read next, or just on a whim, I can pick up Boswell, Burton or Browne
and resume the conversation. I can even pretend I believe in bibliomancy. A few
novels, too, permit this – Moby-Dick, for instance.
The dabbler quoted above
is Alec Guinness in the fourth of his journal/memoirs, A Positively Final
Appearance: A Journal 1996-98 (1999). The man who played Henry Holland in The
Lavender Hill Mob, Professor Marcus in The Ladykillers and everyone
in Kind Hearts and Coronets was well-read, bemused and deeply civilized,
seldom stuffy. He reads George Herbert, Trollope, Henry James, R.S. Thomas and
Anthony Powell – even Charles Doughty. Here he continues the Boswell/Johnson
passage:
“Some of the letters
Boswell quotes are ponderous and slow things up, [Agreed: Boswell overdoes it
with letters. One suspects he was padding.] but there is so much wit, kindness
and John Bullish commonsense that one’s heart is constantly warmed.”
Which is one reason we
return to certain books – that human warmth.
“Except when it comes to
Johnson on corporal punishment, when he is quoted in conversation about his
firm conviction that complete submission
of the young must be beaten in to them: a chilling idea, like breaking
the spirit of horses or forcing wild animals in circuses to cowering obedience.”
Again, agreed. Johnson was
a man of his time. His understanding of human nature extended to children. Of
course, corporal punishment was still common in my public schools in the sixties.
In September, when I attended my fifty-first high school reunion, I spoke with
a phys. ed. teacher who once smacked me on the back of the head with a pair of
sneakers. No resumption of hostilities. This time he appeared sober. Guinness
continues:
“I read that Johnson piece
last night and today, shifting some books, opened Montaigne’s Essays at
a paragraph on ‘Affection of fathers for their children.’ It was probably
written about a hundred and ninety years before Johnson’s statement. Montaigne
says, ‘I have never seen caning achieve anything except making souls more
cowardly or maliciously stubborn.’”
Guinness observes “no great
moral advance discernible” between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries – or subsequently,
we might add.
ReplyDeleteWell done. This post made me think I could go to my little library and repeat the same dipping.