C H A P T E R 5
Value
What is it that makes a work of literature good, bad or indifferent?
There have been many answers to this question over the centuries.
Depth of insight, truth- to- life, formal unity, universal appeal, moral
complexity, verbal inventiveness, imaginative vision: all of these
have been proposed at one time or another as marks of literary
greatness, not to speak of one or two more dubious criteria such
as giving voice to the indomitable spirit of the nation, or stepping
up the rate of steel production by portraying steel workers as
epic heroes.
For some critics, originality counts for a good deal. The more a
work can break with tradition and convention, inaugurating some-
thing genuinely new, the more likely we are to rate it highly. A
number of Romantic poets and philosophers held this view. A
moment’s reflection, however, is enough to cast doubt on it. Not
everything that is new is valuable. Chemical weapons are of recent
vintage, but not many people rejoice in them for this reason.
Neither is all tradition stuffy and staid. There is more to it than
bank managers donning chainmail and re- enacting the battle of
Hastings. There are honourable traditions, such as those of the
English suffragettes or the American civil rights movement. A