Strawson III? On a paradox concerning an anthology of literary theory


Author's name (parents' draft). Terence Rajivan Edward (now Doctor)
Dialogue on names (fictional): "Now why do you want a name?" So that my works can be identified - that is one reason. "You need a number really."
Author's name (my first draft). 0161__Rajivan
Abstract. This paper introduces a paradox: global audiences are larger in recent decades, so we predict more accessible texts; but the more recent entries in a literary theory anthology are often more difficult to understand, more obscure really. How much easier Hume is to understand than Derrida, Foucault, and Lacan: merely slightly old-fashioned language! I consider some solutions to the paradox. After drafting the paper, I rewrote it as an imitation of P.F. Strawson. Some readers may prefer this more elegant presentation.
Draft version: version  2 (29th September 2025 - P.F. Strawson style?; draft 1 28th September 2025) FINAL PARA NEEDS WORK!
PDF available at: https://philpapers.org/rec/EDWHOT-4

All the articles by her in-between
I confess I have not seen!
Tonight I shall read
And find out how consistent is this deed


1
We conceive of ourselves as human beings who come after earlier human beings and differ from these earlier human beings in this respect and other respects. But we also conceive of ourselves as sharing with earlier human beings a capacity for rationality and a set of concepts without which human beings could not make sense of themselves and their environment: concepts such as that of an event and of a spatial location. One of the tasks of philosophy is to describe this common core of concepts and the relations between them. But there are changes in society which are so profound that it is as if this core were available for revision. Here the philosopher may be asked to provide proposals as to what should take its place. He can say that the core itself is unchanging and this is what concerns him as philosopher, but this is likely to be judged an unhelpful response to the changes that have been experienced.

Changes are more likely to affect the aesthetic and the moral concepts which persons rely on than the metaphysical concepts: event and spatial location, material body and mind, remain as they ever were. A social transformation which has affected the evaluation of artworks is the expansion of the reading public. The arts of poetry and tragic and comic drama have been joined by the popular novel, some instances of which make a claim to have value as art as well. Here critics may turn to philosophers, asking can we even apply the concept of art in our current epoch, in which the artist must address a much wider audience, only some of whom have the experience in judgment which the artist hopes for from an observer? Reflection on aesthetic value is, however, not a central theme in the English-language tradition of philosophy, although it includes some of the finest prose writers in the language. French philosophy and literary criticism and its works of literature are more closely connected, but they also pose a problem for a critic who presupposes that the expansion of the reading public inevitably leads to artworks oriented towards immediate gratification. Moving from Aristotle to Hume to the French literary theorists of our own time, we find that the earlier philosophers are less obscure. The larger reading public of our time has not resulted in French literary theory which is easily intelligible to readers with little background in French philosophy and literature, and even poses difficulties for philosophers with considerable background in these. The situation has the quality of a paradox, which is of interest to philosophers although it is perhaps not a strictly philosophical paradox. On the one hand, we expect the widening of the reading public to produce a strong incentive to write works oriented towards the immediate gratification of novice readers. On the other hand, we find that the earlier works of literary theory are far less obscure than the recent works of French literary theory.


2
A solution to this paradox is to emphasize the movement from simple to complex, in literary theory or for that matter any field. The literary theorist in ancient times seeks to make a contribution to his field and also finds that the simplest tasks have yet to be done. He makes a contribution by pursuing one of these tasks, if not more. For example, he observes the arts of his day and amongst dramas, he identifies a subset as sharing qualities and refers to these as tragedies, identifying the qualities which define this kind of work. Other literary theorists pursue other simple tasks. As centuries pass, however, the simple tasks are done and all that is left for the literary theorist are more complex tasks. The doing of these does not produce easily readable texts and therefore the fact of a larger readership does not bring about the anticipated change.  The literary theorist of the present day faces a dilemma even: write something for many but which is not new and does not present a gain for his field, or write something new but it will then have to be complex, given that all the simple ideas have been presented, and many will not understand it. 

This solution is doubtful. One reason why is that there is no proof that all simple contributions to literary theory have been made. We can here rely on a crude account of simple and complex. Complex contributions feature complex concepts and a concept is more complex to the extent that it combines other concepts. Simpler concepts combine less, for example the concept of a tragedy is simpler than the concept of a tragicomedy. At best what supports the view that all possible simple contributions to literary theory have been made by now is the fact that no simple contributions have been made in recent years, or centuries even, and an inference that the best explanation for this state of affairs is that all possible simple contributions have been made. But this seems unsteady ground on which to base the conclusion.


3
I favour a different solution to the paradox. The reader of an anthology of literary theory will inevitably feel that the texts are becoming more difficult and obscure, and leaf back to accessible pieces, such as by Hume. But it is also necessary for our topic to observe that the number of texts it features increases as one approaches the present. This can partly be explained by reference to more researchers working on literary theory: seeking to provide a foundation of general propositions for commentaries on works of literature. But it must also be explained by reference to the omissions or ignorance of earlier contributions. As one looks back to previous epochs, what the anthology contains is what the processes of history have selected as the very best, for example contributions by Aristotle and Hume. A number of other authors have been omitted or else are not now known, and some of these other authors are sure to be difficult reading. What survives in literary theory over centuries is, for the most part, more universal in its manner of expression, as well as its content. The paradox we are considering has, as one of its components, a false proposition claiming increasing obscurity or difficulty, in contrast to the simplicity that is imagined to have existed centuries ago.

We can better appreciate the actual situation by considering the inclusions and omissions which are bound to occur for an anthology of moral philosophy from its inception to now. The maker of a moral anthology over the centuries will feel compelled to include utilitarianism, and Bentham and Mill will stand as representatives. Henry Sidgwick is counted the most important utilitarian of the late nineteenth century, but his texts have been rightly characterized as difficult to grasp in broad outline:
Sidgwick "incessantly refines, qualifies, raises objections, answers them, and then finds further objections to the answer. Each of these objections, rebuttals, rejoinders, and surrejoinders is in itself admirable, and does infinite credit to the acuteness and candour of the author. But the reader is apt to become impatient; to lose the thread of the argument; and to rise from his desk finding that he has read a great deal with constant admiration and now remembers little or nothing." (C.D. Broad, cited in Parfit 2011: xxxxix)
The maker of an anthology is overwhelmingly likely to omit Sidgwick, despite his importance to the field, and likewise difficult-to-read texts in literary theory from centuries ago have most probably been omitted.


4
We must when observing the change of earlier intelligibility to later obscurity recognize that current literary theorists are flesh and blood human beings who are in a position to appeal to kinds of readers whom earlier literary theorists perhaps could not: this is a likely effect of the expansion of the reading public. And instead of writing for all, as anticipated by one component of the paradox, literary theorists begin to address this specifically new reader. As readers of literature, we seek insight into literary works and also into the nature of literature in general. The feeling of insight is likely to cause some readers to struggle with obscure texts, in the hope that prolonged study will establish this feeling as sound.


References
Hume, D. 1757. Of the Standard of Taste. In Essays, Moral, Political, and Literary. Part 1. (1777 edition). Available at:
https://davidhume.org/texts/empl1/
Parfit, D. 2011. On What Matters. Volume 1. Oxford: Oxford University Press.