Documente Academic
Documente Profesional
Documente Cultură
469
D. H. LAWRENCE'S
DISCOVERY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE
A. BANERJEE
Lawrence believed that the distinctive quality of American literature was
not appreciated by the older English and European civilizations because
their readers were unable to respond to the native genius of the American
writer. According to him it expressed a new experience in an "alien" accent,
an accent which belonged to "the American continent and to nowhere else."
He discovered in American literature what even the Americans themselves
had missedthe "classic" quality which he thought had fled from his own
literature. He told Amy Lowell, "your classic American literature, I find to
my surprise, is older than our English. The tree did not become new, which
was transplanted. It only ran more swiftly into age, impersonal, non-human
almost. But how good these books are!"
Lawrence decided to write on this subject during the First World War
to provide a means of escape to America. He published eight articles on
American writers in Ford Madox Ford's English Review in 1917-18. He
failed to sell them to American periodicals, and he did not succeed in coming to America when the war ended. And when he eventually arrived in the
U.S. in September 1922 he decided to rewrite them. As he had previously
told his agent, J. B. Pinker, "I can't write for America here in England. I
must transfer myself." After "transferring" himself, he told his new American agent, Thomas Seltzer, that he was "doing Studies againAmericanising
them: much shorter." He fully revised the eight essays which he had been
working on and off for four years, wrote four new ones, and presented them
in book form. Studies in Classic American Literature was published in New
York in 1923 and in London the next year.
Lawrence's personal observations on life in America gave him a new and
more authentic perspective on the American people and their literature. He
had always believed that the positive vision of the writers had come to them
from their native American ancestors. In the opening chapter, "The Spirit of
Place," he explains that the content and the manner of a writer's work can
be directly related to the spirit of the place of his native birth and abode:
"Every continent has its ovra great spirit of place. Every people is polarized
in some particular locality, which is home, the homeland. Different places
on the face of the earth have different vital effluence, different vibration, different chemical exhalation, different polarity with different stars: call it what
you like. But the spirit of place is a great reality." Lawrence believed that the
spirit of the land instilled in the American writer a sense of "the unfulfilled.
2011 by A. Banerjee
470
unrealized purpose," and be set out to seek it. The "invisible winds" around
bim inspired him to look into bis innermost self, "tbe deepest whole self of
man," aud to "realize" this pui-pose. He could do so only in America where
he would enjoy the "liberty to do wbat bis deepest self like[d]."
Lawrence did not believe tbat the liberty tbat tbe Pilgrim fathers sought
was religious or political. Tbey simply wanted the freedom to get away from
their European selves and to divest themselves of tbeir European ancestry, ideas, and ideals. They created their own American democracy through
which tbey undermined the ideals and politics of the older continent, and
their writers like Hawthorne, Melville, and Whitman created their own distinctly American literature. Tbey saw life from a new perspective, one different from the European viewpoint, and this new vision turned out to be
of older vintage; it was elemental and viewed tbe human being as a natural spontaneous creature who was uninhibited by religious or rational constraints. Lawrence himself bad been nurturing sucb a vision, which may
at least partly explain bis fascination witb American literature; the studies
contained his "whole Weltanschauung," he said. He felt tbat tbe American
writers refiected tbe same vision tbat he himself bad been espousing, tbe
celebration of tbe older, natural, and spontaneous lifesomething similar
to wbat Montaigne had reported about the newly discovered life in Brazil,
which was marked by "original simplicity" and wbere the people were "governed by natural laws and were very little corrupted by our laws." In tbis
sense Lawrence the man and tbe writer is at the center of his evaluation of
American literature.
He begins discussing nineteenth-century American writers by claiming
that tbey took up "life wbere the Red Indian, the Aztecs, the Mayas and
tbe Incas had left off" They "touched and touched again, uncannily, unconsciously, blindfolded as it were" the spirit of tbe "dusky continent of the
Red Man." Lawrence's central thesis is that their writings embodied tlie
"aboriginal" Indian vision which combined the passional with the mental
in a single "whole." Though tbe writers imbibed such a view of life, tbey
were hindered from expressing it in their writings because of their mental
obeisance to tbeir European ancestors; tbeir Puritan background fmstrated
tbeir attempts to subscribe openly to the philosophy of the natives. Fortunately they could adopt the artistic strategy of indirect expression, wbicb
was, in Lawrence's words, "a sort of subterfuge." The artist says one thing
while be actually means something different: "The curious thing about art
speech is tbat it prevaricates so terribly, I mean it tells sucb lies. I suppose
because we always all tbe time tell ourselves lies. And out of a pattern of lies
art weaves the trutb." Tbe American writer adopted this artistic method,
and tbe danger was tbat tbe reader could easily miss the artist's real meaning. Therefore Lawrence's task in these studies is to save "the American
tale from tbe American artist, " to demonstrate the writer's "unconscious
471
genius." He thought that by doing so he was being "a midwife to the unborn
homunculus."
Lawrence's book does not purport to be academic criticism, nor is it written in a hterary style. It is a deeply subjective work and is largely confined
to novelists. But it was hailed as a pioneering book when it was first published. On its publication H. J. Seligman called it "the foundation for a new
American critical literature," and Stuart Pratt Sherman, the editor of the
first Cambridge History of American Literature (1917-21), frankly acknowledged Lawrence's role in the recognition of American literature by heading
his review "America is Discovered." In 1943 Edmund Wilson would include
the whole of Lawrence's Studies in The Shock of Recognition in which Wilson aims to chronicle "the progress of literature in the United States." He
praises Lawrence's Studies as "one of the few first-rate books that have ever
been written on tlie subject." American hterar)' critics, especially in the
1950s and 60s, regarded Lawrence's book as a seminal work from which
many of them derived their own ideas. For example Leslie Fiedler declares
that among all the critics who had written about "American books" Lawrence came "closest to the tmth." As late as 1971 Quentin Anderson claimed
that "the serious study of American literature began in D. H. Lawrence's
Studies in Classic American Literature. "
Lawrence's discussion of Hawthorne's "duplicitous art" in The Scarlet Letter, for example, has become the standard critical approach to the
novel. Lawrence demonstrates that despite Hawthorne's Puritan exterior
the writer in him struggled to express his deeper vision. He did this principally through Hester Prynne. Commenting on Hawthorne's description of
Hester's "rich voluptuous oriental characteristica taste for the gorgeously
beautiful," Lawrence says that "the aboriginal American principle [is] working in her, the Aztec principle." She is "the Mother of Maculate Conception," a worshipper of "Astarte, the Magna Mater, the mother of physical
fecundity." She falls in love with the saindy preacher Arthur Dimmesdale,
but she soon discovers that he is driven to hide his sensual self under the
guise of spirituality. So "the woman in Hester Prynne recoils, [and] turns
in rich lurid revenge" to destroy the "spiritual fornicator and liar" in her
lover. Lawrence believes that this vision of Hester and what she symbolized
grew out of Hawthorne's own personal torments: "Openly he stands for the
upper, spiritual, reasoned being. Secretly he lusts in the sensual imagination,
in bruising the heel of this spiritual self and laming it for ever." In Lawrence's opinion this is almost the exact paradigm of the novel too in which
Hawthorne's "art-speech" betrays his true self beneath his pious homage to
Puritanism. The reader therefore has to recognize and unravel "the duplicity" in Hawthorne's art. Few of his contemporary critics were equal to this
task, divided as they were about the moral content of the novel. Evert A.
Duyckinck declared that the "spirit of his old Puritan ancestors, to whom
472
473
474
the help of an intemational crew of the white, black, and brown races with
the single purpose of subduing the sensual beast. In this Lawrence finds the
symbol of man's fear of his sensual self. This leads to "the maniacal fanaticism of [the] white mental consciousness" that tries to destroy the "hotblooded sea-bom Moby-Dick." The beast becomes the object of' his fanatic
pursuit, but he and his crewmen are all "doomed, doomed."
Lawrence beheved that Whitman also based his vision of the future on
the elemental principles of life. He was "the first white aboriginal," who was
aware of his complete undivided self, which repudiated the conventional
morality that separated mind from body. His morality was aimed at changing the blood rather than the mind. In this he differed from Hawthome and
others whose mental allegiance to the "old morality" crippled their sensual
selves. Whitman tried to strike a balance between Ijody and soul, and Lawrence described this process in his characteristic forthright manner:
Whitman was the first to break the mental allegiance. He was
the first to smash the old moral conception that the soul of man
is something "superior" and "above" the flesh. Even Emerson
still maintained this tiresome "superiority" of the soul. Even
Melville could not get over it. Whitman was the first heroic seer
to seize the soul by the scmff of her neck and plant her down
among the potsherds.
"There!" he said to the soul. "Stay there! Stay there. Stay in
the flesh. Stay in the limbs and lips and in the befly. Stay in the
breast and womb. Stay there, O soul, where you belong."
This being Whitman's faith, Lawrence says, "the whole soul speaks at once"
in his poetry. Lawrence believed that "Whitman's essential message was the
Open Road. The leaving of the soul free unto herself, the leaving of his
fate to her and to the loom of the open road. Which is the bravest doctrine
man has ever proposed to himself" Carefully avoiding the risk of personiJ
disintegration, he sets out on the open road where the soul can live "her
life along [its] incarnate mystery." But he felt that, like Cooper in his early
years. Whitman was beguiled by his country's democratic and ethical ideals.
Lawrence chastised Whitman for not "keeping to his open road," for talking of merging and charity. This was "Whitman's mistake," because merging
involved the obliteration of his own "integral single self," leading to disintegration and death.
As a writer Lawrence was greatly impressed by Whitman's poetry. He
generously acknowledged that "Whitman, the great poet, has meant so
much to me. Whitman, the one man breaking a way aliead. Whitman, the
one pioneer. And only Whitman. No English pioneers, no French." What
drew him to Whitman was his "aboriginal" vision. Other writers and critics
of his time thought otherwise. The Saturday Review, for instance, warned its
475
audience tbat if "tbe Leaves of Grass should come into anybody's possession,
our advice is to tbrow tbem instantly behind the fire." But before long more
thoughtful critics began to see positive things in Whitman's "primitivism."
D. H. Lawrence most forcefully argued tbat not only Whitman but several
other major American writers of tbe nineteenth century derived tbeir inspiration from native sources by responding to tbe "ultimate savage" within
them. Henry Seidel Canby was perhaps the first American critic to point out
this enduring element as early as 1936, and be praised Lawrence for bis prophetic insight: "Tbere was mucb laughter when years ago D. H. Lawrence
in bis 'Studies in Classic American Literature' described an Old Indian
Devil wbo was always plaguing tbe great Americans witb sudden fiushes of
paganism, great resurgence of sex, and obstinate adjustments between their
European souls and their unfenced continent. It is not so funny now, for
some devil, Indian, Marxian or psycho-analytic, has surely been torturing
tbe best American writers of our era. Tbey squirm, tbey lasb, they spit out
filth and imprecations, tbey wbine, they defy. Tbey are not at ease in this
Zion of our ancestors."
Canby is principally speaking of Thomas Wolfe (1900-38), but some
subsequent American writers, such as John Berryman, Robert Lowell, and
Allen Ginsberg, have shown clear symptoms of such haunting obsessions.
Perhaps Lawrence was also bebind tbe dichotomy between tbe "Paleface
and Redskin" in American literature tbat Philip Rahv saw in 1939.
Copyright of Sewanee Review is the property of University of the South and its content may not be copied or
emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission.
However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.