A Literature of Meaninglessness

The post-structuralists, who have found a refuge and a home in American literary theory, and, indeed, in much of emerging American literature, embody philosophical virility.  They argue that we can’t really say anything meaningful about anything, but we must still say that in the most meaningful way possible.  Contrast this with the humanistic tradition that they reject:  philosophical fertility: the idea that philosophy can give birth to ideas, understanding, first principles, and the formation of the human conscience.  The implications for literature are clear: a literature of style without ideas; as opposed to a literature of ideas, hopefully with style as well.

Literature without ideas is a literature that can only entertain, shock, or puzzle.  This does not mean that it is not literature.  It simply means that it serves no greater purpose.

Many will argue that literature should not serve “a greater purpose,” that its only goal should be aesthetic.  But does this not lead to an art that—at least tacitly—supports the status quo (since it can be dismissed as irrelevant to the “real world.”)?  Should literature play some role in human progress?

Many will argue that human progress is a myth, and, as such, literature should simply ignore it.  What these writers fail to admit is that their own literacy, educational opportunities—not to mention the running water in their homes—and right to free speech are all products of human progress.

A global environmental catastrophe looms.  To loosely paraphrase Thomas Merton:  Meanwhile, writers continue to sit around defending their (a-historical, quid est veritas?, value-neutral) reputations.  Soon, there may be nothing to defend.