- ’IQWQNU' O ."0 vii... .5‘ :fi :'I1"'(‘r full ' 1. SL411." } ‘ 3’ $ .39 31W ‘_ '3 “.41.“. ~ 3&4 3M} ng" ah 3&1?le “1;. ‘ ,' )- $5; ’4 In: H. ' t 1. I’ ‘ T 1 1,93% V 63.41.. tv 1.. )L‘Yriy‘31fiy144'11fifl: - ’:. . - 1 x 1 ‘ _- ‘ h. 1.9’ ' '1 '5. .4 ," ‘ I - 1.1‘1 ' 1. .1 | a, 1‘9 - . ‘ ”WI, FINE“. ., 4 1 E ' ‘fi. ' "1 .1... ‘1‘ 1"“ , . i " . .' . ,. 11" . ’1 I 1 ‘ Mk I ’ ‘ .5’1'1 ! .1- 11’ ’ ‘ 1 1. - ‘1 7“"! -- ~ ~ 1 .1 1 M111 1 J I '13:. " .1? :gu" .1 "U 0. MN". WW1”. fin. ".3111 1.11 1:?1 11‘ 1. . M" lH V l 1’1": "I11. N311.“ h. MN" '1‘ n"... lllllllllllllll \\ 3 1293 Will This is to certify that the dissertation entitled ALLEGORY: IRIS MURDOCH'S MODE 0F EXPRESSION A STUDY IN POST-MODERN STRUCTURES presented by Carol Hough Winters has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for Ph.D. degreein English Major professor Date May 2, 1984 MSU is an Affirmative Action/Equal Opportunity Institution 0-12771 MSU LIBRARIES -;:_. «0‘ . RETURNING MATERIALS: Place in book drop to remove this checkout from your record. FINES will be charged if book is returned after the date stamped below. 3 0 1 fun I 3 £3“ ti ALIEGORY: IRIS MURDOCH'S MODE OF EXPRESSION A STUDY IN POST-MODERN STRUCTURES by Carol Hough Winters A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Department of English 198k Copyright by CAROL HOUGH WINTERS 198h ABSTRACT ALLEGORY: IRIS MURDOCH'S MODE OF EXPRESSION A STUDY IN POST-MODERN STRUCTURES by Carol Hough Winters The term allegory is used all too often as a catch-all . phrase with no discrimination between the differences in meaning and function from pre-romantic to post-modern criticism. Iris Murdoch's works have been subjected to criticism that has not sought elucidation of the essential characteristics of her work but has used criteria developed from the romantics. This dissertation argues that Murdoch does indeed write allegory but an allegory that is funda- Inentally different from a romantic conception. To this end. it will be necessary in Chapter I to survey the development of allegorical theory seen against a romantic background and then to ascertain the main char- acteristics of a post-modernist conception of allegory. In Chapter II the established critical view of Murdoch lfiill be reviewed and its romantic tendancies of thematic 'treatment and symbolic notation will be shown to be an :inadequate base of judgment. Finally. Chapters III and IV vvill begin to fill the critical void by tracing the elements of allegory in selected novels. Since Murdoch jg; a professional philosopher. her prose writings concerning aesthetic questions are used wherever appropriate. not as after-thoughts for her fictional enterprises but as guiding forces. to my parents Roy and Pauline Hough ii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Thank you is too simple an expression to account for the complex interactions between a doctoral candidate and those who surround him. It does not indicate the depth of feeling nor the indebtness I owe to Dr. Roger Meiners who not only suggested the original connection between post-modern allegory and Iris Murdoch but who also patiently edited the first draft of the manuscript. Nor does a thank you adequately recognize Dr. William Johnsen's generosity in accepting the task of seeing the dissertation to completion. I have also appreciated the encouragement of Dr. Linda Wagner and Dr. Cathy Davidson whose suggestions have been valuable. I would be remiss not to include a thank you to Lorraine Hart, whose expertise in administrative matters has been especially helpful. Finally. a thank you does not express the feeling I have for the breadth of commitment from my husband and children. It has been Tom's steadfastness that has enabled me to complete the program. This is not a formal acknowledg- ment but an expression of truth. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS Chapter I Allegory: A Mode of Expression A. Traditional Definition 1 B. De-valuation 4 C. Re-valorization 31 Chapter II Iris Murdoch: The Critics' Assessment A. The Critics' Symbolic Approach 56 B. An Adaptation of That Symbolic Method 61 C. Criticism of the Symbolic Method 71 Chapter III Allegorical Structure in Representative Works: Part One A. Under the fig; 92 B. mg 911' 111 C. Bruno's Dream 129 Chapter IV Allegorical Structure in Representative Works: Part Two ‘ A. The Black Prince 15h B. Nuns and SoIdiers 180 C. The PhiIosopher's Pupil 198 Conclusion 223 iv Chapter I Allegory: A Mode of Expression To stand before an Iris Murdoch novel is an experience similar in kind to standing before an allegorical painting. The weight of significant detail paralyzes the imagination and sets the mind racing. Presented with the character of John Robert Rosanov in The Philosopher's 2322;. we don‘t know whether he is to be "read" as a personification of the rational man. a mysterious bewitcher of others. or a lecherous old man. Should the plot itself be cast in terms of realism. mystery. romance. allegory or journalism? All those elements are present and may be emphasized by simply turning attention in a specific direction. For instance. the story is realistic since its characters and their actions use the physical world. There is no magic. no miraculous intervention that saves them from the natural consequences of their actions. The story also presents a mystery both on the more banal level of a "who-dun-it" (Did George try to kill his wife?) and the esoteric level of philosophical speculation (Does George's intention or his action constitute proof of his attempt to kill Stella?). The story can also be viewed as a romantic interlude. delimiting the fine strings of influence that bring Hattie and Tom together. For that matter. romance's darker side is explored in the relationship between George and Stella. Another turn reveals the intellectual generalizations of r1- 2 allegory that are displayed in the broad implications of George's personification as the romantic man and his opposite John Robert as the rational man. The allegorical ”feel" can even be seen in detail: Tom's wanderings through the maze of pipework beneath the spa. mirror man's intellectual walk through successive philosophical systems. Further, the journalistic flavor of the entire book with its reliance on the narrative flow of life cannot be denied. ”N‘s” reporter status. his attention to factual detail can nowhere be ignored. The problem. then. in reading this kind of novel lies in the multitude of its meanings. The meaning is not constricted wherein the reader could follow intricate but seamless patterns of symbolic design. but it is expanded with a "jumble" of significant objects set before the reader. Objects that come already imbued with meaning are traditional hallmarks of allegory. For in that tradition emblems are made by men and passed on to other men in an effort to speak truth. And while the source of that truth changes with time. its outlines do not. It is difficult to know just where to begin1 in establishing the roots of the ideas that form the base of allegory. Perhaps if a passage from the Bible is examined. under its aegis we can encompass allegory's roots in religion. history. and rhetoric while seeing its basic techniques in action. A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path. and 3 the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places. where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly. because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up. the plants were scorched. and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns. which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil. where it produced a crop. a hundred. sixty or thirty times what was sown. . . . Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: when anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it. the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart. This is the seed sown along the path. What was sown on rocky places is the man who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since he has no root. he lasts only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word. he quickly falls away. What was sown among the thorns is the man who hears the word. but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke it. making it unfruitful. But what was sown on good soil is the man who hears the word and understands it. He produces a crop. yielding a hundred. sixty or thirty times what was sown. 2 . There are several allegorical characteristics that can be seen. First. the parable is told by one who claims to be God. so that the substantial truth of the utterance cannot be questioned. The fact that Jesus cannot point to something in the physical world as truth. but must instead use the natural world to tell his hearers what truth is like points to three things: truth requires divine intelligence to be discerned. it exists beyond the material world. and it is absent from the world. All of these are evidenced in the arbitrary choice of the seed as an example of the word of God; that is. there is no natural reason for the kingdom of God to be like a.seed. It could just as easily have been presented as a mustard seed. a leavening agent, a treasure in a field, 4 a pearl of great price. or a dragnet. as it is presented in the remaining parts of Matthew, thirteen. This arbitrary placement of meaning. indeed the attitude that invests any and all natural objects with meaning is seen as an allegorical attitude. one that is exclusive to the symbolic attitude. I am proposing in this study that Iris Murdoch writes a form of allegory. However. before pursuing that line of reasoning. the term allegory must itself be accounted for. as it is a word that comes to the twentieth century full of conflicting meanings. It is a truism that nearly all of modern thinking concerning allegory and the subsequent reprehension of it. at least until the re- assessment of the last several decades. stems from the fundamentals of the romantic critical movement. In the Anglo-American tradition. this usually means examining the thought of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. His influential devaluation of allegory may serve as a convenient place to open the discussion: . . . an Allegory is but a translation of abstract notions into a picture language which is itself nothing but an abstraction from objects of the senses: the principal being more worthless even than its phantom proxy. both alike unsubstantial and the former shapeless to boot. 3 In another passage. Coleridge writes. We may then safely define allegoric writing as the employment of one set of agents and images with actions and accompaniments correspondent. so as to convey while in disguise. either moral qualities or conceptions of the mind that are not in themselves objects of the senses. or other images. agents. actions. 5 fortunes and circumstances. so the difference is every-where presented to the eye or imagination while the likeness is suggested to the mind: and this connectedly so that the parts combine to form a consistent whole. Allegory becomes in his perspective a lifeless. devised pattern that attempts to portray only another devised pattern. The physical world is ignored while the life of the mind is elevated. Coleridge argues that the mind is too much involved in making allegories. that it patterns things that do not fit together. while the imagination alone sees the differences between objects. The tension outlined here is found illustrated in Coleridge's theories. . . specifically in the polarity of his primary imagination and secondary imagination. He illustrates their relation- ship with this schema: Reason Primary Imagination Imagination (positive) Understanding Understanding Secondary Imagination Fancy (negative) Sense Understanding in the primary imagination is an active and positive force. whereby man detaches himself from the flow of nature. objectifies what he has seen. and posits new opinions and actions. Understanding in the secondary imagination is a sensual activity. a trait shared with animals and is an intuitive apprehension «of the universe. Coleridge argues that to only pursue positive understanding will turn man into a mechanical 6 animal as its main thrust is a detachment from nature.5 This single-minded pursuit is analogous to allegory. for it ignores the physical necessity of the secondary imagination's understanding. To be aware of the sensual link to the physical maintains the primary imagination's unity. Thus. the tension between the primary and secondary imagination is not an exclusive one but is inclusive. whose reliance on its polar status everywhere reminds its reader of their interpenetration. Allegory becomes. on the other hand. a truncated action that disregards a vital ingredient. If the Statesmgn's Manual were open in front of us. we could not help seeing that Coleridge's prejudice against allegory is written so that his valorization of the symbol may be illuminated. The second half of the paragraph that contains his definition of allegory says t On the other hand. a Symbol is characterized by a Translucence of the Special in the individual or of the General in the Especial or of the Universal in the General. Above all by the translucence of the Eternal through and in the Temporal. It always partakes of the Reality which it renders intel- ligible; and while it ennunciates the whole. abides itself as a living part in that Unity. of which it is the representative. The symbol,then. is a real object that if meditated upon will yield up its connection to the spiritual world. Thus. the natural world corresponds to the supernatural *wdth those correspondances discoverable. A metaphysical 7 truth is being claimed for the symbol that is not claimed for allegory. In the symbol. the physical is not mean- ingless. but charged with meaning; whereas allegory admits that its objects are meaningless until they are assigned meaning.7 While Coleridge establishes this symbolic link between the natural and supernatural. he does not so clearly define the mind's workings. For it is the imagination that "gives birth to a system of symbols. harmonious in themselves. and consubstantial with the truths of which they are the conductors."8 Coleridge's "conductor" is not the same kind of independent creator that later romatics will describe. His imagination is a participatory one: ”The living power and prime agent of all human perception and as a repetition in the finite mind of the eternal act of creation in the infinite I.AM." 9 It does not create ex nihlo but discovers its correspondance to the divine. seen in this quote from Misses: A post ought not to pick nature's pocket: let him borrow. and so borrow as to repay by the very act of borrowing. Examine nature accurately. but write from recollection: and trust more to your imagination than to your memory. 10 What Coleridge means by "recollection" is this: Nothing affects me much at the moment it happens. It either stupifies me. and I perhaps look at a merry-make and dance-the-hay of flies. or listen entirely to the loud click of the great clock. or I am simply indifferent, not without some sense of philosophical self-complacency. For a thing at 8 the moment is but a thing of the moment: it must be taken up into the mind, diffuse itself through the whole multitude of shapes and thoughts. not , one of which it leaves untinged. between not one of which and it some new thought is not engendered. 11 His mind is not a passive receiver of truth but an active participant which moves from sensual perceptions to rational patterns. While he consistently builds man's role in the perception process, he never claims for that mind original knowledge. However. his articulation is appropriated and expanded by later romantics who do claim the mind's ability to create truth. While it is impossible to give an accurate brief representation of the diversity of the romantic tradition and its later developments. I propose to let the position of Benedetto Croce stand as the epitome of romantic think- ing in the very moment of transition into characteristically modern modes. Because of his historical position. Croce must win for intuition a place in man's thinking. And( in order to be convincing. intuition must be defined as the mind's first action. Croce proposes to demonstrate that in the world of art. as opposed to logic. intuition is primary. It is essential to note that while Croce deprecates his own action. carefully qualifying his position on intuition as an adjunct to reason. he is actually claiming intuition's superiority by privileging its position. While this should place him firmly in the Coleridgean tradition, it proposes some fundamental modifications. .I b H. 9 Since intuition manifests intself in the production of images. whereas logic manifests itself in the production of concepts. it will be instructive to examine images. Both true and false images are engaged in a dialectical struggle. As it is impossible in the physical world to have purity, truth is constantly engaged in a struggle to free itself from error. Thus. the identification of a true image entails several transformations. Croce begins the process by rehearsing Kant's theory of the origin of a concept. Kant maintains that a concept results from the unification of the intelligible with the unintelligible. This fusion occurs when the idea is articulated by its concrete form. Here is Croce's divergence from Kant. For Croce argues that the necessary duality of thought and image in Kant's system does not in fact exist. Rather. Croce contends that thought cannot exist without its image. nor can the image exist without thought. To believe that thought and image can be so separated is in fact to practice allegory. The insurmountable difficulties of allegory are well— known. so is its barren and anti-artistic character known and universally felt. Allegory is the extrinsic union. or the conventional and arbitrary juxtaposition of two spiritual facts-~a concept or thought and an image--whereby it is posited that Efli§ image must represent that concept. 12 He is arguing against the outside thought's imposition on an image for the same reason Coleridge resisted the combination. Both wish to establish an unbroken line between the physical and the spiritual. Further Croce [‘1 's ".11 10 argues that allegory's action is a deliberate juxtaposition of thought and image. Croce regards allegory seriously. as he must. because its form is a direct contradiction of his most basic axiom: art is intuition. His critics at one point tried to chide him on his reaction to allegory. claiming that it too was a mode of expression. To answer their charges and to garner authority for his own position. he reinforced his opinion by referring to examples from the nineteenth century German idealistic tradition and its predecessors. For instance. he reminded his critics that Hegel called allegory a "cold. squalid. product of the intellect. and not of concrete intuition and profound feeling of imagina- tion. . . ."13 Vischer too saw allegory as a dissolution of the original relation between idea and image. He called it an inorganic form surrounding itself with mystery but not being itself a mystery. Further. he used de Sanctis. Quintillian and Blair to warn against allegory. further denigrating it as cryptography. a practical art that makes a puzzle out of meaning. . . . either the poet forgets the world of ends for the world of imagination and abandons himself altogether to poetical inspiration. . . . or he is constantly introducing his world of ends into his imaginative world. thus breaking up the aesthetic coherence of the work and producing something that is not poetry. and possesses solely a cryptographic value. 1h Out of this false image of allegory. then. comes the true image. And for Croce the fusion of thought and image ' is manifested in the symbol. He defines it by using u. ‘1 .n‘ on ‘\ §§~ \ 11 Vischer's description of the symbol: the moment when the idea dissolves in the representation is mirrored in the way sugar dissolves in water. The idea can no longer be extracted from its representation; it exists only as a sign "of the yet to be discovered principle of unity of the artistic image."15 The insistence on the opposition of symbol and allegory is not. then. a quirky invention. It is a valorization of the philosophical position that prefers man as the creator of truth. The historicity of this position is traced by Hans Gadamer in 23232 ghg Method. and begins with Schelling's belief in the symbolic: For the demand of the absolute artistic representation is: representation with complete indifference. so that the universal is wholly the particular. and the particular at the same time wholly the universal and does not simply mean it. 16 Gadamer finds the same concept in Solger who argues that art is the existence of the idea. not the unformed idea. Therefore, the union of sensible and insensible seen in the symbol is not arbitrary but is the manifestation of a real coincidence. The resultant symbol of the romantics ought to be a rich presentation. one that celebrates the presence of the divine in the physical world. However. by the twentieth century. the symbol is noted for its paucity. How it came to that historical and philosophical position is analyzed by Iris Murdoch. The symbol's decline is figured by Kant's separation of the Sublime and the In LA. W C 'l s. 12 Beautifulgl7for it is only in the Beautiful that the symbol manifests itself. And in that position. no emotion or good or even thought is allowed. While it does have form. it is a conceptless one. a "self-contained object. strictly purposeless. yet with an air of purpose. ”18 What has been taken from existing for its own sake. the symbol can be seen best if Kant's counter notion of the Sublime is examined. Here it is that reason and morals and emotions reside. While no object can be Sublime by itself. its position as a thing to be contemplated by the mind is insured. For instance. if we look at the sky or mountains our minds try to satisfy their need for order. Because of nature's size and complexity. the mind cannot pattern what it sees. Thus. there isuboth a sense of distress at the failure and paradoxically a feeling of exhilaration at the mind's activity. This kind of mixed experience containing both the pain of thwarted imagination and the elation of the rational triumph brings Kant to propose that man's ideal state must be rational harmony among all things.19 His final movement necessitates the interaction of the Beautiful and the Sublime. so that it is only if one or the other notion is emphasized that distorted theories arise. And it is Murdoch's contention that the symbolists who are direct descendents of the romantic movement chose only to em- phasize the Beautiful. thus eliminating access to reason. morals and emotion. "What they wanted were small, clean 13 resonant and self-contained things of which the image or symbol was the type. What is beautiful must beseparate. conceived on the analogy of'a sensible object."20 Before considering the implications for art of this belief. let us consider the implications for man. In Coleridge man is dignified: he maintains a place in the divine order of things:- man:earth as God:heaven. In Croce man and his intuitive ability can understand the universe. Even in Kant the Sublime that man feels plus his intuitive appreciation of the Beautiful make it possible for him to exist with purpose. How then. have we moved from man bursting with his own potential to man surrounded by a void that is both menacing and meaningless? If Kant's conception of reason that rests on the substantial nature of truth is upheld. then man can be seen as rational, free. educable. able to know himself, superior. and responsible for his own actions. However. if his reason is stripped of its conception of truth. nothing transcends man and he is only what he does. Morals become tools and man emerges as a brave will ready To enact his sense of himself. Of course. this change did not occur quickly and Murdoch sketches the historical process. She begins. as indicated earlier. with the separation of the Sublime and the Beautiful. Later in Hegel's system. Kant's belief in reason is replaced with a belief in self-knowledge. Hegel's man no longer looks outside for confirmation of his knowledge and relies 1h for access to truth on his organic relationship to the divine. Later, Kierkegaard posits a man who is alone. at war with everyone including himself. and whose only contact with the outside is through religion. While outside truth is still acknowledged. the possibility of ever knowing that truth is slight. thus placing man in 21 Nor have recent trends a position of turning inward. in philosophy. existentialism and linguistic empiricism. been able to lift man out of himself. As an example of the kind of person that modernism praises. Murdoch uses the heroes of Jean Paul Sartre. ”The individual is the centre. but a solipistic centre. He has a dream of human companionship. but never the experience. He 22 This man is isolated touches others at the fingertips.” with no divine purpose. He no longer has Newtonian physics allowing Kant's a priori knowledge. and he no longer has Hegel's "dialectical surge” that allows a life-changing movement. There is always and only the self. seeking knowledge of itself that is partial and duplicitous. There is an analogy between this isolated individual and the isolated art object that is not random but is an axiom stated by Murdoch. It brings us to consider the implications of symbolism for art. The analogue is borne out in the analysis of Roquentin and his desire for an art object. The free. self—contained ego postulates the existence of the free. self-contained art object, 15 "the timeless whole with its significance completely contained within itself."23 This desired object has many characteristics. one being its anti-language bias. The symbol is not limited to the word and in fact its meaning does not work with language connections. Rather. its meaning is inherent in its being and depends on its physical presence. Further. even the perspective on language has changed from the past. When Coleridge talked about Reason. Understanding. Memory. Fancy. the words were thought to be connected with real forms that existed in the divine world.24 Now, rather than nouns representing these divine ideas. they have life only within a cultural and grammatical context. Therefore. any claims made for language as a point of access to the divine are negated. Language is viewed as a way of delimiting. interpreting. and predicting experience. agreeing with Wittgenstein. ”The limits of my language are the limits of my world."25 This introduces a relativity into language hitherto unknown. Further. there is a spatialized use of language that disconcerts traditional narrative expectations. Joseph Frank speaks to the problem. He contends that such writers as Eliot and Pound break the narrative law of literature by writing a spatialized poetry meant to be read in a moment of time. not sequentially. Pound's definition of the image. ”that which presents an 16 intellectual and emotional complex in an instant of time” is meant not as a narrative process but as a fusion of discrete ideas and emotions into a whole. This complex does not proceed discursively: rather. it strikes the reader's mind instantaneously. by frustrating the sequen- tial drive of narrative. Thus. the meaning is enveloped within the structure of the poem or novel and is complete only after the entire cluster of images is understood.26 All meaning is contained within the poem and is there- fore already present in the first word. Clifford Gay also sees this as a characteristic of the symbol: "The strength but also limitation of symbols is that they tend to be static with all the ramifications of meaning focused within the symbol."27 This spatialized use of language stops time and if time stops. process does too. The symbol's lack of movement is discerned by Frank also when he argues that Proust's time is Bergson's ”real time." In Proust the main character is not changed by time but I uses it to symbolize those moments in his life when transcendence was achieved. Proust can not be content to simply describe these moments. as he could not if he is to remain within the parameters of symbolic presentation. He recreates the moments. doing so by a sensual appeal to memory. The movement in such a presentation exists in a forced link between the mind of the character and the mind of the reader. These spatialized presentations are "powerful juxtapositions : n) ‘v N. (I) 'NI I) a! “e an (I) F'\‘ I‘. 17 of the ancient Renaissance. and modern worlds [which] reduce all three elements to an unhistorical miscellany. 28 There is no causal timeless and without origin.” progression. no historical depth--all is fused into a timeless whole. The symbol. then. makes several claims: it is the natural presentation of truth: its presence is real. and its status gives man access to divine truth. That the mind of man and the symbol work in conjunction with each other is an explicit tenet in symbolism from Coleridge onward. That the symbol no longer participates in a substantial truth is the fact for which existentialism is the evidence. Is it possible to demonstrate that the symbol is not the ultimate expression of man's artistic nature? To do so necessitates the reclamation of the substantial nature of truth. a tenet on which allegory is premised. And this reclamation cannot be a simple statement of allegory's superior status. For even the newer developments in criticism that specifically question . a symbolic bias toward literature are open to question. Critics like Paul de Man and Fredric Jameson may work out elaborate schemes of allegory in which literature is considered in its philosophical status as an object and it community relationships. but the phenomenom of Murdoch's writing demonstrated in the introduction remains un- accounted for. At best. it is considered a positive 18 gesture of inclusiveness. out of which the critic can choose placement of his attention. and at worst it is considered bad writing unworthy of attention. The second opinion displays a value judgment and will be dismissed on the grounds that it cannot be argued. The first opinion will be given careful consideration. For if its premises are logically construed. then literature is transformed into a ”mine” whose value and shape is mainly determined by the ”miner."29 This is not a naive statement of a complex problem. for it recognizes the significance of Murdoch's statement. "We are all structural- ists now."30 Rather. it is a testimony to the continuing symbolic relationship of the miner to his mine. This can be seen in the works of Paul de Man. For although he argues against the hold that the romantic symbol has maintained on the critical mind. his arguments concerning the nature of allegory do not release literature either. Let us begin with his critique of the romantic symbol. In ”The Rhetoric of Temporality" the problem is posed in terms of the opposition of symbol and allegory. Looking to their common purpose of transcending the physical world. he sees their strong lines of congruence. Further. he historicizes his position by examining Coleridge's symbol finding its behaviour more allegorical than symbolic. He argues that since Coleridge emphasized the symbol's organic base. it should express itself in increasingly physical terms. That it does not demonstrates 19 Coleridge's insistence that the invisible world is the more important one.31 De Man also questions the symbol's claim of free expression. He points out that language is not easily disentangled from past meanings; and while man would like to believe that he uses language. the fact is language uses him. Further de Man examines the symbol's claim to unify inner and outer truths. He uses a linguistic structure to do this. repeatedly breaking down binary oppositions. Although his many examples could be traced. the action can be representedly seen in his opposition of grammar and rhetoric. This is not a naive de-mystification on his part but is a deliberate reaction against the current practice from Barthes to Greimas of joining the two distinct structures. For it is his argument that such theorists ignore the question of what words mean and confine themselves to how words mean.32 It is with this background that de Man chooses to examine a rhetorical question since the theorists claim it stands as an example of how two structures conjoin. . . . asked by his wife whether he wants to have his bowling shoes laced over or laced under. Archie Bunker answers with a question: "What's the difference?" Being a reader of sublime simplicity. his wife replies by patiently explaining the difference between lacing over and lacing under. . . but provokes only ire. ”What's the difference” did not ask for difference but means instead. ”I don't give a damn what the difference is.” 33 De Man argues that the literal meaning of "What's the difference” is non-existent for it is denied by the 20 figurative meaning. Thus. the reader is faced with a structure that cannot be understood from a grammatical point of view. The question can be asked but its meaning is denied. This confusion is not a straightforward opposition of literal and figurative. There it could be decided which meaning the sentence called for. Here there is an extra-textual confusion that will take intervention to make the meaning clear. Nor is de Man content to argue alone but calls on several critics to support his argument. ‘Kenneth Burke is one. whose concept of "deflection" is de Man's example: "the rhetorical basis of language. . .operates within grammatical patterns." 3% Another is Charles Pierce whose insistence on a third party observer in order for the sign to have a meaning keeps de Man's distinction between grammar and rhetoric alive. Further. de Man uses this method throughout Allegories 93 Reading. interpreting Yeat's "Among School Children". Proust. Rilke. Nietzche. and Rousseau as writers who maintain distinctions. This insistence on the true dis-unity of subject and object is the first step in de Man's valorization of allegory. By de-mystifying the symbol. he intends to recreate a place for allegory. De Man defines the mechanism of allegory as a ”relationship between sign and its meaning [thai] is discontinuous. involving an extraneous principle that determines the point and 21 manner at and in which the relationship is articulated."35 This is a restatement of the traditional juxtaposition of subject and object in allegory. and he intends to use it to sketch the historical devaluation of allegory. De Man briefly returns to the medieval structure of allegory in order to display its formal outlines. He finds it characterized by its relationship to an outside truth: and while he would not dispute that historical fusion. he would dispute its metaphysical claims. For he demonstrates that it is history that caused a shift in belief from a substantial truth to a relative one. Now there are only false polarities set up by a mind able to control both subject and object. "priority has passed from the outside world entirely within the subject.”36 De Man argues that such a mind is Coleridge who claimed to turn to nature for inspiration but who used nature to image himself. De Man uses several arguments to counter this inward movement. One easily suggested is simply reversing Coleridge's position. While he may assert that man comes first and creates wholes. it could be equally asserted that nature comes first and creates wholes. The second argument suggested is man's temporal predicament. For although the romantic would like to believe that nature changes while he remains the same. his own aging body and changing perspective belie that statement.37 The third argument against the romantic 22 conception of self is its philosophical position. De Man uses Nietzsche's hill £2.22!2£' The self which was at first the center of language as its empirical referent now becomes the language _ of the center as fiction. as metaphor of the self. What was originally a simple referential text now becomes the text of a text. the figure of a figure. 38 This definition of man's cosmic position is de Man's preferred one. for he postulates that only by allegory can man make sense of the world. "Making sense" consists of two movements. First. the false symbolic base of the object must be uncovered. These may be found in three areas: nature, where the action of similitude between self and landscape is a proprietary moment: or a book. where the symbolic construction of images is unraveled: or another man. where it is recog- nized that first perceptions are figurations. The resultant self—conscious structure. consisting of the original figure together with its deconstruction. engenders a second moment. Here the self creates its own interpre- tation of the figure simultaneously aware that this construction is open to error. In fact. it can never be absolutely true because it proceeds from man's mind. These second degree "narratives" are de Man's allegories. Notice the negative aspect of this second moment. For when the self realizes its own subjectivity. it also realizes the text's subjectivity. . . the very statement by which we assert that the narrative is rooted in reality can be an 23 unreliable quotation: the very document, the manuscript. produced in evidence may point back. not to an actual event. but to an end- less chain of quotations reaching as far back as the ultimate transcendental signified God. none of which can lay claim to referential authority. 39 All becomes a text, so that any understanding is based on a subjective agreement concerning the text's referent. This agreement can be broken at will in order that the structure may question itself. Each questioning produces its own text. beginning the allegorical process again. De Man has effectively devalued the romantic symbol. but his valorization of allegory as a means of interpreting literature does not release the mind's hold. If anything. it accentuates the subjective nature of knowledge. And if we are only exchanging one word for another without a concurrent change of function. then a semantic game is being played. Given de Man's insistence that symbol and allegory's mechanizations are unimportant it is not surprising that he should come to such conclusions about literature. When it is remembered that symbol and allegory's functions specify a differing view of the nature of knowledge? then de Man's conclusions can be called into question. For instance. Coleridge's model of the difference between organic and inorganic form will demonstrate these two views. Coleridge argues the symbol's organic base. a physical relationship between the material and immaterial worlds that naturally emerges. Thus. it is possible for the ego to ascend from physical to spiritual truths. 24 Inorganic form. on the other hand. makes no such claim to natural fusion. so that the ego cannot transcend. Nor is Coleridge the only place to see this difference. It is one moment in a history of difference as the two words' etymologies will reveal. Allegory is a combination of ééiEE and agoria which means ”other speaking." Symbol is a combination of £22 and ballein which means a ”throwing together" of word and thing. Thus. there is an insistence on outside knowledge in allegory that is not found in symbol. The symbol presumes a natural progression from the physical to the divine that allegory denies.)+1 If the historical moment believes in an outside truth then allegory too can be a means to the divine: but if the age does not then it becomes a statement of the lack of knowledge. While de Man's allegories rest on an outside knowledge. it is man's: and his own insistence that man is forever implicated in subjectivity blurs any tra- ditional meaning of allegory. Is there any path out of the theoretical entanglement of the subjective? Any way in which Murdoch's structures may be allowed to stand allegorically? Fredric Jameson's "dialectical criticism" would seem to offer just such a divestment of self. For his theories are articulations of the manner in which the self can begin to transcend its limitations. And while he admits the unavoidable centrality of self. he postulates self-consciousness of that centrality as part of its cure. 25 His cure is dialectical criticism which moves in a series of moments. the first of which is a description of the problem in economic terms. After this initial description there comes a second moment when that level of thought is raised to another level. Here the very things that looked like drawbacks are seen to be advantages. and conversely what was thought to be the highest freedom turns into an "iron-clad” limitation. This is not a question of resolution but a re-orientation of vision. Although there is a tendancy to suppress this moment as it is a frightening one. if the new vision is accepted the reward is an objective perspective. All is change-- problems. theories. categories. even ourselves--are subject to change: ”the explanation. . . is inherent in the initial description of the event. just as the geometrical theorem is inherent in the initial definition."’+2 Not only is the object seen but also our own selves are observed working on that object. This brand of self-consciousness is an externalizing process. a placement in history which is distinguished from introspection.. The theory abstracted from the original details has come full circle and takes its place in an historical perspective. This final moment. Jameson calls an allegorical action};3 However. its movement is based on a symbolic definition not an allegorical one. In the introduction to Marxism ghg EQEE Jameson sees his method working in this manner: I have felt that the dialectical method can be acquired only by a cencrete working through of 26 detail. by a sympathetic internal experience of the gradual construction of a system according to its inner necessity. 4h Jameson's use of detail. then. is not an arbitrary allegorical one: rather. it is a symbolic one. moving from material to immaterial naturally. In The Political Unconscious Jameson carefully articulates the manner in which his criticism works. Because the mode of interpretation establishes its own object. it will be instructive to see if this. too. is symbolic. His interpretative process contains three moments: . . . which mark a widening out of the sense of the social ground of a text through the notions. first. of political history. in the narrow sense of punctual event and a chroniclelike sequence of‘ happenings in time: then of society. in the now already less diachronic and time-bound sense of a constitutive tension and struggle between social classes: and. ultimately. of history now conceived in the vastest sense of the sequence of the modes of production and the succession and destiny of the various human social formations. from pre- historic life to whatever far future history has in store for us. 45 The physical fact lies at the base of his process. and Jameson argues that it must be viewed in terms of its symbolic significance. That is. social classes are described and defined through the individual. This is not presented as an arbitrary union but a genuine one. several times making reference to "genuine? historical theories. Out of this union two things occur simultan- eously: the individual act is "transformed" into an example of class antagonism and the individual act retains its own historicity. In the final action the resultant 27 structure is transformed into its widest circle of meaning and then analyzed in historical terms. Lest the reader feel Jameson is verging on an arbitrary interpretative schema. he deals complexly with the issue of transformation proving to his satisfaction their natural relationships. For the first phase he uses Claude Levi-Strauss' work in myth to show the organic relationships among the external rites of primitive tribes. When Jameson moves into the second phase. the same kinds of natural connections are posited: The individual text retains its formal structure as a symbolic act: yet the value and character of such symbolic action are now significantly modified and enlarged. On this rewriting. the individual utterance or text is grasped as a symbolic move in an essentially polemic and strategic ideological confrontation between the classes. . . . This insistence that the transformation of particular into general is a symbolic act continues. The social classes and institutions are not objects that have arisen arbitrarily but are an outgrowth of the natural tendancy between the dominant and repressed classes to fight for a place in the society. Jameson carefully eases us from the concrete to the abstract by insisting that the line between them is an unbroken one. The third step of Jameson's interpretative process rests on the first two but also includes another dis- tancing step. The act of self—consciously placing the physical fact serves to point up its textual status. They are ggconstructions. representations that can be 28 made to yield their unified system. The important aspect of this movement for our purpose is the natural progression: and consequently. the necessity that the truth is inherent in the first event. In order to buttress these claims. Jameson traces his abstract theory of modes of production back to the individual event. This serves the two-fold purpose of saving the individual from being swallowed by history and demonstrating the living base of his system. Perhaps. this can be best exampled by examining one of Jameson's series of transformations. He proposes to analyze Frye's system of romance which he argues rests on the binary opposition of good and evil. It is his contention that the form of such an opposition carries physical residue from its original historical formulation. And if the reader agrees with this premise. then he must ultimately agree that Frye's final step carries that same historical element. History itself becomes the ultimate ground as well as the untranscendable limit of our understanding in general and our textual interpretations in particular. 47 Using this untranscendable ground. Jameson argues that good and evil are not natural opposites but solely found in language. To give credence to his statement he uses Derrida's theories on this subject. the main thrust of which is the necessarily privileged position of the first term. Thus. the resultant structure is not a natural one but is set up with specific values already in mind. Man 29 determines that good is better than evil and so puts it first. The action successfully marginalizes the devalued term. Derrida claims that such an action is the remainder of ”metaphysical thinking" but Jameson steps back from even that term to see its historical content. He attributes it to Nietzsche who postulated that the positive and negative terms of the binary opposition could be seen in terms of good and evil. Hence. Jameson argues. the origins of the_binary opposition rest on ethical considera— tions not metaphysical ones. This is a point that must be sorted out in material terms because the difference in vieWpoints reflects differing positions on truth. If good and evil are metaphysical terms. then they exist as essences beyond the physical world: if however. good and evil are ethical considerations. then they exist as contracts of behaviour. Jameson favors the ethical consideration and for this reason moves Nietzsche's thought back to its historical foundation. It is psychological in nature and he argues that man tends to consider evil that which is other than himself. 'Evil only characterizes whatever is radically different from the subject. Thus. Jameson proves the historical content in Frye's system.“8 However. what is the form that will complete Jameson's system of criticism? It is collective dialectic--that moment of transformation when the about to be dominant class recognizes its own historical placement. And just 30 as he dismantled Frye in order to show the misconception on which that system is based. so he dismantles the collective dialectic in order to show the truth on which his system is based. That truth is History. the empirically based system that is not to be interpreted within any hardened theory. Thus our thought no longer takes official problems at face value. but walks behind the screen to assess the very origin of the subject-object relationship in the first place. #9 This fusion of subject and object by the process of dialectical transformation is an example of symbolic thinking from Coleridge onward. No matter the "allegorically articulated" schemes. the end is always the symbolic whole. When finally. even the passions and values of a particular social formation find themselves placed in a new and seemingly relativized perspective by the ultimate horizon of human history as a whole. and by their respective positions in the whole complex sequence of the modes of production. both the individual text and its ideologemes know a final transformation. and must be read in terms of what ‘I will call the ideology hf form. that is. the symbolic messages transmitted to us by the coexistence of various sign systems which are themselves traces or anticipations of modes of production. 50 Allegory is only a moment in the interpretative process. that point. in which a text is systematically rewritten in terms of some fundamental master code. . . On this view. then. all ”interpretation" in the narrower sense demands the forcible or imper- ceptible transformation of a given text into an allegory of its particular master code. . . . 51 Is the best answer to the symbol's hold on the critical world going to be an exhausted assertion that there is 31 no way out of the linguistic tangle save a constantly renewed map of the convolutions of subjectivity or a reminder to account for subjectivity within a human system of interpretation? So long as it is maintained that truth is found within either the individual con— sciousness or its perception then the trap remains snapped shut. It will take a radical departure from the belief in the relativistic nature of truth as well as a recognition of the absence of truth in the physical world to be able to contest the effectiveness of the symbol. It will also make necessary a mode of expression capable of illustrating such a juxtaposition of objects. Iris Murdoch offers a beginning with her criticism of the Kantian tradition. But her critical moment suggests only negative commentary. What is needed is a positive moment for an alternative to the symbol to be expressed. Such a moment is my statement that Iris Murdoch writes a form of allegory. However. its implicit nature in her work necessitates an instrument that will force it to be explicit. Walter Benjamin. whose valorization of German Baroque Drama is not a local event but is the specific statement that can account for both the particular and general aspects of Murdoch's works. is such an instrument. Therefore. Walter Benjamin's position on 52will be explored allegory as a viable mode of expression and the lines of congruence between Iris Murdoch and him established. 32 Walter Benjamin writes in the introduction to his Illuminations: "It is not a matter of reducing distances but of keeping them."53 That he sees distinctions marks him as an unusual thinker. one who is consciously going against the mind's desire for unity. How he manages to retain the distance between appearance and essence can first be seen in his attack on the romantic symbol. It is necessary for him to specify the romantic symbol because he differentiates between it and the theological one. The latter names the true notion of the mysterious fusion of subject and object. something not given over to intellectual speculation but affirmed by faith. With that notion he has no argument. However. with the romantic symbol he has several arguments. whose historical base leads him to metaphysics. Benjamin's historical arguments point out the false unification of the symbol. While it tries to convince itself that the beautiful is naturally- connected to the divine. it cannot. And instead it must content itself with an emphasis on the objects' similarities not attending to their differences. Further. the men who praised the symbol (He specifies Goethe and Cruzer) neglected to examine allegory. thus privileging their own term and ignoring the other. Benjamin's metaphysical arguments challenge the symbol's claim to embody an idea. However. his challenge is not just a polarization in Coleridge's sense of the term. but Benjamin ”deconstructs it. radically challenging its 33 claim to perform the unitary act the Romantic critics held it capable of.”54 Not only does the symbol fail to unify subject and object. it also fails to be transcendent. By returning to Cruzer Benjamin demonstrates that his definition of symbol implies a relationship to the artistic symbol and that such a relationship is a fplastic" one. The significance here is that this rela- tionship holds the symbol in the human world. In the plastic symbol the essence does not strive for the extravagant. but. obedient to nature. adapts itself to natural forms. penetrates and animates them. That conflict between the infinite and the finite is therefore resolved by the former becoming limited and so human. 55 Further. the romantic symbol denies time: ”the measure of time for the experience of the symbol is the mystical instant in which the symbol assumes the meaning into its hidden. and if one might say so. wooded interior."56 The stress on the symbol's momentary quality takes it out of any progression and freezes it. To so ignore such a basic ingredient in life demonstrates that the symbol is not the all encompassing image it claims to be. Keeping distances is a worthy activity in Murdoch's thought also. It is only by recognizing the differences between objects that man can possibly peer out of his subjectiveness. For Murdoch the term "un-selfing"57 defines both what needs to be kept distinct and the action of doing do. First. self and other need to be kept separate. for only a conscious effort to see the other 34 person as he is will counter the ego's efforts to see all in terms of itself. Some of the difficulty of this movement can be seen in her modification of Plato's Allegory hf hhg ghzg. She adds a stage to the soul's ascent to the Good wherein the soul stops by the fire thinking he now resides in the light of the Good. But the fire is a picture of his own ego and while self- scrutiny can look like the Good. it is not.58 More of the difficulty of the ego's outward movement can be seen in the action of falling in love. When a person falls 59 in love. he attends perhaps for the first time to another person. But there is a strong pull from the ego to only take what it needs from the other person or to re-write him totally. Second. the action of unselfing occurs in a variety of ways. One of Murdoch's examples is the process of learning a language. The learner is confronted with a structure whose intricacy and size convinces him that not only will the task of learning be difficult he will also never finish. However. he attends to the subject and as he does so begins to acquire some knowledge of the language's reality.60 Not only does this move him out of himself. it also points him in the direction of truth. Another of Murdoch's examples is the process of changing an opinion. She uses a common-sense situation: a mother- in-law who dislikes her new daughter-in-law. Whatever the girl does is "silly" and "vulgar" and the mother-in-law 35 cannot stand the girl. However. the mother-in-law later proposes to look at the girl again. She does so and finds for love of her son that the girl is not "silly" but "gay". not "vulgar" but "spontaneous." The mother-in-law. in fact. reverses her opinion.61 The keeping of distances. then. requires not only conscious action but also a moral commitment. These actions of the mind are real for Murdoch and are used as preliminaries for her methods of keeping things distinct. These are best embodied in the terms prayer. attention. and contemplation. whose meanings intertwine. Prayer is an acknowledgment that truth exists outside of man and that his proper approach is the traditionally humble one. Attention. on the other hand. is the patient looking at the physical world. It is an attempt to see the outlines of stones and people. not in order to see what they might symbolize in the spiritual world. but to see them in their resplendent uniqueness. Contemplation is. then. meditating on the juxtaposition of the object of prayer and the object of attention. All of these arguments against unification are not just exercises in deconstruction. Benjamin makes them so that he may put forward his own mode of expression-- allegory. For it is allegory that will keep the distinctions alive. and it is an investigation into the form of allegory that yields structures able to hold meaning. 36 Allegory's form is marked by several features. one of which is the substantial nature of truth. Bainard Cowan says of Benjamin. The notion of truth intended by Benjamin is not the Aristotelian one of truth as an ade uatio existing in relation between sign and signified. but rather the Platonic conception of truth as a transcendent reality. . . . 62 His reliance on this premise is a subject which Benjamin "treats."63 He not only makes outright statements. "As essences. truth and idea acquire that supreme metaphysical significance expressly attributed to them in the Platonic system."6ubut he also writes opinions on the manner in which this Platonic truth comes to man. One is his discussion of the word concept. a term specially designed to carry a mediative meaning between man and the truth he desires. Since it is man who thinks the concept. it is not a pure form but is the only one available in which truth may be represented: "For ideas are not represented in themselves. but solely and exclusively in an arrange- ment of concrete elements in the concept: as the figuration of these elements."65 Another treatise is contained in an analogy: "Ideas are to objects as constellations are to stars."66 This means that just as stars have no natural relationship to the idea of a constellation. so ideas do not participate in the star's make-up. The two are independent of each other: they belong to fundamentally different worlds. 37 Equally so are Murdoch's arguments to be taken seriously. She does not name her mode of expression allegory but calls it the novel. However. it is within its structure that Benjamin's distinctions are maintained. For it is here that the otherness of truth is allowed existence in the form of people. "mutually independent centers of signifi- cance."67 Her Platonism. which insists on independent forms of truth is continually asserted in her novels. However. hers is not a naive Platonism. whose soul's ascent to the light of the Good is unhindered: rather. her Platonism accepts the same ambiguities that Plato displayed in the , Timmaeus. There the way to the Good was encumbered by distorted language forms. making knowledge partial. Her contemplation of Plato's opinions will reveal more of the obstacles. Plato's objection to writing is well—known: Writing spoils the direct relationship to truth in the present. Since truth (relation to the time- less) exists for incarnate beings only in the immediate consciousness. in live dialectic. writing is precisely a way of absenting oneself from truth and reality. Murdoch agrees with Plato. finding it impossible that man with his necessarily humble place in the universe could ever give correct form to the eternal forms. He uses language that can not rid itself of either its public meaning or entirely make known its private meaning. thus contenting himself with a mixture of the two. This ‘historical and subjective base of language makes true 38 presentation of truth impossible. However. Plato becomes her prime example of the artist who must use this dis— torted form to articulate his position. Both Murdoch and Benjamin have faith in the efficacy of writing. Cowan points out that "The conclusion of Benjamin's prologue in brief is that the form of philosophical writing is an allegory of truth."69 Writing is the place for the hgpresentation of truth. Murdoch says. "The care- ful responsible skillful use of words is our highest instrument of thought and one of our highest modes of being."70 These sorts of contradictory assertions lead one to ask how it is that truth is known at all? If man's concepts are subjective. if his ideas bear no natural relationship to an object. how is it that he knows truth? This is undeniably a complex transaction for Benjamin. as our intellectual ability. that area capable of understanding an idea. is inextricably bound to our subjective self. And that subjective self always has an intention. It is at this point that Benjamin makes a distinction between the approach to truth and knowledge. The latter presupposes an object. and in order to know that object (that is. to gain possession of it) man will falsely arrange the physical world or falsely arrange his own mind. ”Truth." on the other hand."is an intentionless state of being. made up of ideas."71 Approach to truth then is "a total.immersion and absorption in it."72 39 The pattern that is apprehended in a representation of truth comes not from the mind but from the idea itself. When the truth is even partially absorbed. the resultant structure will be a representation of truth. whose outlines will remain viable. As evidence of his conviction. Benjamin cites Plato's theory of Forms. Leibniz's Monadology. and Hegel's Dialectic. How truth can be absorbed can be seen in Benjamin's explanation of the part beauty plays in the action. He reasons with Plato that truth is the content of beauty. thus ascribing to beauty a functional role. While practicalities usually indicate an inferior position. in this case it does not. For ideas have no form apart from their existence in beauty: "This representational impulse in truth is the refuge of beauty. . . . Its brillance. . . provokes pursuit by the intellect. and it reveals its innocence only by taking refuge on the altar of-truth."73 Murdoch admires too the Platonic connection between beauty and truth. using the connection to secure a lasting place for the particulars of the physical world. Natural beauty if properly contemplated results in "self-forgetful pleasure in the sheer alien pointless independent existence "7“ which is a of animals. birds. stones. and trees. representation of truth. This insistence on an independent existence forces man to recognize his own small place in the world. This is not a devaluing of man. but an #0 acknowledgment of his appropriate place. Further. Murdoch includes art in her connection of beauty and truth. For she holds that great art can also be a point of access to truth. Admittedly art is fraught with dangers.75 but she argues that if Plato can himself use such forms as the Charioteer. and Demi—Urge. he does so in the same manner that all great artist's do--to illustrate not their own personalities but truth. While these arguments outline the philosophic base on which post-modern allegory rests. they do not outline the form of allegory itself. And if Benjamin is going to claim that allegory is a mode of expression. he must bring that form into sharp relief. He begins by re- claiming strength for language showing that historically language claims an access to truth. Benjamin delves into history and finds that allegory comes from the work of humanist scholars attempting to decipher hieroglyphs. They in turn are the Egyptian attempt to represent Adam's naming of God's creation--an act that claims perfect unification of subject and object. It is Benjamin's argument that Plato wrote his theories with these concepts in mind. Had he not believed in the "deification of the verbal concept" his theories would not have been possible. However. to use Adam and Plato as examples of linguistic purity has unavoidable consequences. The first is to admit the now fallen and thus imperfect view of man. 41 and the second is to acknowledge Plato's deep distrust of writing. Such an acknowledgment of the impurity of allegory's form necessitates certain conclusion on Benjamin's part. The disjunction of the physical and the natural worlds is assumed. Cowan in describing this aspect of the allegorical experience does so in negative terms. Whereas the symbol strives to convince of the fulness of the physical world. allegory argues for its emptiness. The most important problem then is how meaning will be assigned. For if the physical and spiritual conjunction is an arbitrary one. then the person coming to that combination years later has no certain point of access. Entire systems are inevitably forgotten. "Any person. any object. any relationship can mean absolutely any- thing else."77 While this multiplicity of meanings for allegory could be seen as a devastation. and de Man and Jameson do fall back on symbolic constructs. Benjamin transforms the various meanings into a strength. He argues that when man realizes the world is not inherently significant. he can let go of it and be transformed into the divine world. As he willingly sees the limits of the physical. so he. then comes to see the limitless divine. Thus. the image becomes not the plastic symbol of totality that the romantics would suggest but a ”rune" whose symbolic beauty "evaporates when the light of divine #2 learning falls upon it." 78 Nor is his choice of the :rune an accident. Its relationship to writing cannot be missed. so that his insistence that writing is both truthful and subjective is underlined. No total meaning is available in the rune: there is only ambiguity. Benjamin begins to sound like another orotund apology for subjectivity and even more so when he says. That is to say it (the object) is not quite incapable of emanating any meaning or significance of its own: such significances it has. it acquires from the allegorist. He places it within it and stands be- hind it: not in a psychological but in an ontological sense. 79 Benjamin argues that the very self—denying form of \ allegory stands as evidence of the objectivity of truth. making man's subjectivity an effect not a cause. To view allegory as a death's head is to see that all earthly things are effects and must collapse. for they end in death. But it is also to see a simultaneous salvational aspect. This action. Wolin calls the inversion ' of allegory.80 He argues that this salvational aspect can be seen in all systems of meaning: in Freud as a complete cure: in Christianity as the kingdom of heaven: in Marx as the concept of class consciousness--all of which are examples of an "Utopian impulse." In order to understand this impulse, Benjamin has moved into theological realms. He argues that to stay on aesthetic levels is to end in paradox. but a move to theology brings "an appreciation of the transcience of 43 things. and the concern to rescue them for eternity. . . . 81 For the system cannot be free unless man loses all and "wakeCsjup under the eyes of God."82 This divine is not a naive assumption but a metaphor that demonstrates the juxtaposition of subject and object. Unless this discussion continues to resemble a symbolic presentation. its formal inclusion of time will be demonstrated. It is Benjamin's assertion that nature does not display the ”idealized and the transfigured fact of nature" as the symbol does. but sees nature as a "facies hippocratia of history as a petrified. primordial landscape." To stand as an example of allegory's involve- :ent with time. the death's head is significant. Everything about history that. from the very beginning has been untimely. sorrowful. unsuccess- ful. is expressed in a face--or rather in a death's head. And although such a thing lacks all "symbolic" freedom of expression. . . . nevertheless this is the form in which man's subjection to nature is most obvious and it significantly gives rise not only to the enigmatic question of the nature of human existence as such. but also of the biographical historicity of the individual. 83 If this were a symbolic relationship it would claim to be a self-sufficient. self-contained structure. standing before its observer as the embodiment of the divine. Rather. the death's head claims to be a sign of the de- composition of life. one that cannot signify itself but must wait for completion from a source outside itself.8u It reveals the allegorical relationship between nature and God. For the natural action of the body becoming AM a corpse reveals the exiguousness of man's existence in the physical world. The utter lack of any means to stop the body's progression is seen as a sign that the profane world is robbed of its sensuous fulness. robbed of any inherent meaning it might possess.85 Murdoch's recognition of the necessity of including time comes in the negative form of commentary on Sartre's hero in.hh Nausea. Roquentin recognizes that he cannot give meaning to his life until it is over: that its meaning comes at its conclusion. However. Murdoch argues that the pattern Roquentin affixes to his life is subjective. He cannot wholly remove himself from society. thus his view of wholeness is contaminated by himself .86' Even language. that traditional bulwark of‘objective patterning. is stripped of its ability to say the truth. She. too. sketches the development of the language and argues that it is a movement away from an Adamic act of naming towards a circumscribing experience. Murdoch further examples her position by pointing out language's implication in time. She does recognize that it is possible to name things in terms of an "ordinary language”-—an empirical use where meanings are attached to things. But. she maintains. that such a material language will not work for the immaterial. While the word's meaning can remain stable. individual concepts of the meaning will inevitably change. Understanding then does not occur 45 by moving from a personal to an impersonal system. but it occurs by a recognition of the subjective nature of a word's meaning. Murdoch recognizes that Sartre's reaction to this claim is his internal monologue. but her answer comes back through Luckac's complaint that to so reduce the actual life of a man to a one dimensional presentation necessarily limits him. Allegory is then an effect that in the final analysis goes away "empty-handed." Benjamin's example of this final action is his speculation on the nature of evil. It exists as allegory. thus only as an object of the subjective. In the Bible. Satan promises Eve knowledge of good and evil, but God the creator of all is said to have looked at his creation and pronounced it good. ”Knowledge of evil therefore has no object. There is no evil in the world: it arises in man himself. with the desire for knowledge. . . . 87 Even the knowledge of good is in a secondary position. coming as it does through man and having no object for him. The knowledge of good and evil is therefore ”nonsense” in a Kierkegaardian sense. "This knowledge. the triumph of subjectivity and the onset of an arbitrary rule over things. is the origin 88 Thus. allegory exists of all allegorical contemplation." only in abstraction. making it a subjective relationship between the concrete thing and God. The allegorist may desire to restore ultimate meaning to the universe. but since he recognizes the subjective #6 bias of even that desire. he must satisfy himself with a "will to meaning." 89 Knowledge by itself cannot yield truth because of its implication in its own object. Because knowledge is illusory. because allegory is an action of the subjective mind. Benjamin's sort of allegory must content itself with g structure of meaning and not phg structure of meaning. Wolin's example of this action is the death of Christ. which perfectly portrays the hollowness of natural life. It is an entirely mechanical link between the physical and the divine: that is. it takes an outside action to complete its meaning. "In the unpredictability of its appearance which is to say its complete lack of 'motivation' by preceeding events and behavior. the miracle-ending. . sums up. . . the structure of allegory.90 Thus. allegory is not strictly dialectical in nature unless it is a metaphysical dialectic. Rather. allegory moves because whatever partial representation of truth existing~in it follows the dictates of its own essence. The mixed nature of allegory is seen everywhere in Murdoch. For her conviction that truth does exist and does make itself known in the physical world is evidenced in her belief in morality. in codes of justice. in the "spark" that makes a man give up a crust of bread in 91 a concentration camp. Equally is her conviction of man's insurmountable subjectivity in evidence. #7 Each of us lives and chooses within a partly private. partly fabricated world: and although any particular belief might be shown to be "merely fantastic" it is false to suggest that we could. even in principle. "purge” the world we confront of these personal elements. This is good. it makes us human. 92 Notice. though. the redeeming point of this subjectivity. It enables us to retain individuals. Their minds are the most particular things about them and to casually dismiss them or to ”write" them into a story is not an option. To so concern herself with the individual moves Murdoch's allegories into the realm of morality. For their concerns with form making always carry the moral weight of right and wrong. Wrong form making is a delusion of the ego that wishes to retain its central position. Against these tendancies there is the unique individual. Murdoch's valorization of the novel accomplishes this counter motion. For it is the novel. in the nineteenth-century sense of the word. that can accomodate both the real person and the form given to his life. Right form making comes from the desire to create art. Art for Murdoch. as philosophical representation for Benjamin. must have form because it is the means of truth's embodiment. NOTES 1Edward Said. Beginnings (New York: Basic Book Publishin . 1975). p. 36. "Any worker in discursive language Tnovelist. philosopher. critics. or historians) must use language to delimit the linguistic object he studies and deals with. During this primary delimitation the object is created. . . . The process of delimitation is what Saussure calls "establishing a viewpoint." 2Matthew 13:3-8. David Richter. Fable's Egg (Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1975). p. 19. poses a dichotomy between fable and allegory illustrated by the difference between the biblical parable of the weeds and the good samaritan. He expands this difference into a theory that prefers fable over allegory. I would suggest it is more instructive to emphasize both structures' need for an outside interpretant than to see the difference in representation. 3Samuel Taylor Coleridge. ghg Collected Worhg 2: Samuel Ta lor Coleridge. ed. R.J. White. vol.*6 : La Sermons (P¥inceton: Princeton University Press. 1972 . p. 30. 0.8. Lewis agrees with Coleridge in Alle or of Love (London: Oxford University Press. 1959). p. 437 He says. "The allegorist leaves the given--his own passions-- to talk of that which is confessedly less real. which is a fiction." “I.A. Richards. The Portable Coleridge (New York: The Viking Press. 195 ). p. 399. 5Cwen Barfield. What Colerid e Thou ht (Middletown. Conn.: Wesleyan University Press. 1973 . p. 101. 6Coleridge. p. 30. Edwin Honig. Dark Conceit (London: Faber and Faber. 1959). p. 1B.‘§p5££§‘direotly to Coleridge's polarity and finds it false. written to favor the symbol. 7Hans-Georg Gadamer. Truth and Method (New York: The Seabury Press. 1975). p. 66. 8Coleridge. p. 30. 9Barfield. Coleridge. p. 74. 1°Elizabeth Schneider. Samuel Taylor Coleridge (New Yerk: Holt. Rinehart and Winston. 1965). p. #73. 11Ibid. 48 #9 12Benedetto Croce. Guide pp Aesthetics. trans. Patrick Romanell (South Bend. Indiana: Regnery/Gateway Inc.. 1965). p. 22. 13Benedetto Croce. ”On the Nature of Allegory." The Criterion 3 (April. 1925): #05. 1”Ibid.. p. #10. 15Croce. Guide. p. 23. Jorge Luis Borges in Other In uisitions. trans. Ruth Simms (Austin: University of Texas PFess. 196#). p. 50. puts forward an interesting argument against Croce. Borges uses Chesterton's defense of allegory: "Man knows that there are in the soul tints more bewildering. more numberless. and more nameless than the colours of an autumn forest: . . . . Yet he seriously believes that these things can every one of them. in all their tones and semi-tones. in all their blends and unions. be accurately represented by an arbitrary system of grunts and squeals. He believes that an ordinary civilized stockbroker can really produce out of his own inside. noises which dennote all the mysteries .of memory and all the agonies of desire." Borges continues. ”Sometimes. then. language can correspond to this ungraspable reality and when it is done it is through allegories." However. his use of sometimes betrays his own symbolic base. 16Gadamer. p. 69. Owen Barfield. Savin phg Appearances (London: Faber and Faber. 1957). p. 15 . presents a theory of "participation" that looks as if refutes this position. But when its structure is examined it reveals its symbolic base. For instance. his use of imagination will demonstrate this base. For modern man. unable to return to innocence. a point of access is needed to the imagination and that point is memory. By this man.makes the outward appearance into inward experience. With participation we reclaim our natural relationship to the divine. Cyrus Hamlin. "The Conscience of Narrative: Toward a Hermenutics of Transcendance." hp! Literary Histor 13 (Winter. 1982). p. 218. also connects memory an t e internalization of outward experience. There he uses St. Augustine's con- fessions as his example of the process. Hamlin then steps back including the reader of any text. This reader must use his memory. thus subjectifying the relationship between himself and the text. ' 17Iris Murdoch. "The Sublime and The Good.” Chicago Review 13 (Autumn. 1959): #3. 50 18Iris Murdoch. "The Sublime and The Beautiful Revisited." Yale Review #9 (Winter. 1960): 2#9. 19Murdoch. "The Sublime and The Good.” pp. #3-5. 20Murdoch. ”Revisited." p. 259. 21Iris Murdoch. The Sovereignty 2; Good (New York: Schocken Books. 197177 p. 8. Here she porfrays modern man as the hero of almost all contemporary novelists: he knows at all times what he is doing: he aims for total knowledge of a situation: his thought is attached to the specific: his reality is not private but open to other persons: his will is isolated from belief. reason. feeling. and yet somehow remains at the center of his being. This man can also be found in her "The Sublime and The Good." pp. #9, 50. and ”Revisited." pp. 250-#2. 22Iris Murdoch. Sartre: The Romantic Rationalist (Cambridge: Bowes and Bowes. 1953). P. 25. 23Murdoch. "The Sublime and The Good." p.,51. 2I'iBarfield. Appegrancep. p. #8. 25Murdoch. Sartre. p. 29. 26Joseph Frank. The Widenin Gype (New Brunswick. New Jersey: Rutgers Ufiivers ty see. 1963). p. 1#. gives Flaubert's Madame Bovary as a specific example. In the country fair scene the action occurs on three levels: in the street among the speech-making officials. and between Emma and Rodolphe watching from the window. Flaubert disrupts the temporal sequence and fixes the reader's attention on the sets of relationships. It may be true that each level of action can be read as a complete unit. but to not see on the third level that Rodolphe is courting Emma at exactly the same time that the prize is being given for the best pig is to miss the passage's extended meaning. 27Gay Clifford. The Transformation of Allegory (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. 197#77 p. 11. 28Frankp p. 59. 29Rene Welleck. Conce ts p; Criticism (New Haven: Yale University Press. 1953). p. 57. "If there is any safe generalization in literary history it is this: that the desire for a certain kind of product does not neces- sarily beget the power to produce it. while it does tend to beget the illusion that it has been produced." > 51 3°Michael o. Bellamy. "An Interview with Iris Murdoch." Contemporary Literature 18 (Spring. 1977): 135- 31Paul de Man. "The Rhetoric of Temporality." in Interoretation: Theory and Practice. ed. Charles Singleton (Baltimore: The John Hopkins Press. 1967). pp- 176-79- Owen Barfield in The Rediscovery‘p;_Meanin and Other Essgys (Middletown. Conn.: es eyan nlverSlty ess. 1977). P- 103. argues a similar point. 32Iris Murdoch. "Metaphysics and Ethics." in.Th§ Nature 2; Meta h sics. ed. D.F. Pears (Londoni Macmillan and Co.. Ltd.. 1937). p. 100. traces the collapse of the distinction between what words mean and how they mean. Moore made a crucial distinction between what things are good and what the word good means. He claimed that the word was indefinable: and while he believed in good's external reality. he wanted philosophers to stop worrying over old questions and concern themselves with something they could hope to answer. This indicates the turn of thought that subsequent philosophers were to take. Old questions of truth and falsehood were replaced with descriptive instances in which good was defined behavioristically. 33Paul de Man. Alle cries p; Readihg (New Haven: Yale University Press. 1979). p; 9. He practices another such interpretation on Yeat's ”Among School Children." Traditionally. the last line. "How can we know the dancer from the dance?" has been interpreted to stand for the unity between form and matter. De Man points out that the image of the tree that comes before the image of the dancer makes a good parallel: to ask if the tree is its leaf or blossom or bole is similar to asking if the dancer is himself or the dance. However. if the last question is asked literally. then focus is placed on the arbitrary relationship between the dancer and the dance. Rather than seeing how well all respective differences are glossed. the literal question focuses on the difference and the juxtapositional nature of their relationship. Two things that are after all separate cannot be identified. This is not a choice between the literal and the figurative: "The two readings have to engage each other in direct confrontation for the one reading is precisely the error denounced by the other and has to be undone by it." 3I'lIbid” p. 8. 35de Man. "Rhetoric." p. 192. 36Ibid.. p. 180. De Man's post-structuralism is unexpectedly reinforced by some of William Empson's 52 arguments in Thg Structure of Com lex Words (Norfolk. Conn.: James LaughIin. 19317? p. 350, which demonstrates how widely these methods of thinking have permeated modern frames of reference. Empson begins with the equation A is B and is careful to point out that this is not a situation in which B is an adjective which would attach it to the noun. nor is it a term used to introduce a complex predicate. It is a grammatical form wherein A and B are two objects joined by is. To so identify A with B is a remnant of an earlier identity where each name had a privileged position. So that. he who sets the grammar sets the meaning. 37Ibid., p. 190. 38de Man. Allegorieg. p. 112. 39Ibid., p. 204. Stanley Fish in ”A Reply to John Reichert: or How to Stop Worrying and Learn to Love Interpretation.” Critical Inquiry 6 (Autumn. 1979)! 175. concurs: "The interpretation constrains the facts rather than the other way around and also constrains the kinds of meanings one can assign to those facts." uoE.H. Gombrich. Symbolic Images (London: Phaidon Press. 1972). p. 189. traces the "tradition in which the symbol is set up counter to mere discursive reason.” And while he everywhere keeps the distinction plain. he privileges the symbol. anonig. p. 15. This simple opposition does not illustrate the symbolic nature of Honig's work. While he traces the historical development of allegory and defines it as a viable method of expression he denies it full powers of representation. uzFredric Jameson. Marxism and Form (Princeton: Princeton University Press. 1971). p. 354. u31bid.. p. 328. He also on p. 399 addresses the problem: "For it is clear that class consciouness itself-- in those societies in which it exists as an existential fact—-is an allegorical mode of thought. . . .” “L‘Ibid” p. xi. uSFredric Jameson. The Political Unconscious (Ithaca. New Ybrk: Cornell UniverSlty Press. 1931). p. 75. “61bid., p. 85. “7Ibid.. p. 100. 53 uaIbid- 9 PP. 113-15 o u9Ibid.. p. 3#1. SOIbid.. p. 76. 511bid.. p. 58. 52Walter Benjamin. The Origin 2: German Tragic Drama. trans. John Osborne (Thetford. Norfolk: Lowe and Brydone Printers Ltd.. 1977). p. 162. C.S. Lewis too calls . allegory a mode of expression. but his phrase means something quite different from Benjamin's. Lewis restricts allegory to a rhetorical method. 53Walter Benjamin. Illuminations. trans. Harry Zohn (New York: Harcourt Brace and WorId. 1955). xliii. suBainard Cowan. "Walter Benjamin's Theory of Allegory." New German Critique 22 (Winter. 1981). p. 111. 55Benjamin. Origin. p. 16#. 56Ibid.. p. 165. 57Murdoch. Soverei t . p. 6#. This same concept can be seen in her ghg Fire ghg The §hh: HEY Plato Banished the Artists (Oxford: Oxford Ufiiversity Press. 1977). P- 68: alsowin her "Against Dryness: A Polemical Sketch." Encounter 16 (January. 1961). p. 19. 58Murdoch. Sovereighpy. p. 9#. 59Ibid.. p. 3#. acknowledges her debt to Simone Well for the actual word attention. saying that she means it to be a term that will "express the idea of a just and loving gaze directed upon an individual reality. I believe this to be the characteristic and proper mark of the active moral agent." This link between attention and morality . is not casual: in fact. the task of reifying ethics as a proper concern for philosophy is one of Murdoch's major themes. It is her conviction that moral terminology constitutes a representation of truth and not just a practical valuing action. 6°Ibid.. pp. 17-23. 61Ibid.. p. 87. 62Cowan. p. 113. 63Benjamin. Origin, p. 28. The concept of the action of a treatise is important. Benjamin prefers this form of 5# discourse as it does not claim to be truth but merely to be a representation of truth. Therefore. there is not the temptation for closure than an argument presupposes. nor is there any false supposition that truth is inherent in the structure. 6“Ibid” p. 30. 65Ibid.. p. 3#. 66Ibid. 67Murdoch. "Revisited.” p. 257. 68Murdoch. Fire. p. 22. 69Cowan. p. 11#. 7QMurdoch. Fire. p. 87. 71Benjamin. Origin. p. 36. 72Ibid.. p. 32. 73Ibid.. p. 31. 7“Murdoch. Sovereignty. p. 85. 75Murdoch, Fire. p. 12#. points out that Plato distrusted art because it was a copy of a copy thus being open to considerable mis-use by an unscrupulous artist. 76Benjamin. Origin. p. 167( Angus Fletcher. Allegory: The Theory of a S bolic Mode Ithaca. New York: Cornell fUHiverslty‘PTess. 1965). p. 21. touches on this aspect when he says. "the oldest idea about allegory. that it is a human reconstitution of divinely inspired messages. a revealed transcendental language which tries to preserve the remoteness of a properly veiled godhead." Gombrich. too. points out allegory's divine background: the Egyptians "carved one picture for each thing in their temples. . . . Thus. each picture was a kind of under- standing and wisdom and substance. given all at once. and not discursive reasoning and deliberation.” p. 158. 77Benjamin. Origin. p. 175. 78Ibid.. 176. Benjamin extends this runic character- ization to the image also. finding in Ritter's work a direct statement that "every image is a form of writing." This leads Benjamin to conclude. "he gets to the very heart of the allegorical attitude. In the context of allegory the image is only a signature. only the monogram of essence. not the essence itself in a mask,” p. 21#. 55 79Ibid.. 18#. 80Richard Wolin. Walter Benjm min: An Aesthetic of Redemption (New York: Columbia UniverSlty Press. 1982). p. 70. 81Benjamin. Qpigih. p. 223. 82Ibid., 232. 83Ibid., p. 166. 8“Wolin. p. 67. 85Cowan. p. 119. 86Murdoch. ghhppp. p. 11. 87Benjamin. Qpigih. p. 233. éBIbid. 89Wolin. p. 72. 90Cowan. p. 118. 9zMurdoch. Sovereignty. p. 73. 92Iris Murdoch. ”The Darkness of Human Reason.” Encounter 27 (July. 1966), p. #9. Chapter II Iris Murdoch: The Critics' Assessment In the first chapter I have argued that the opposition between symbolism and allegory is not a mere polarity. They do not exist in a tension that invites resolution but are juxtaposed positions that exist with mutually exclusive principles. Therefore. to insist that allegory is a viable mode of expression necessitates an understanding of its structure and mechanics. This is Walter Benjamin's stated purpose and his writings stand as an articulation of the nature of allegory. This understanding of allegory is not so well understood by English and American criticism at it ought to be. Indeed. the term is used by Iris Murdoch herself with its traditional trappings. In an early article entitled. "Against Dryness: A Polemical Sketch." she argues that the twentieth-century novel is characterized by either a "journalistic" or "crystal- line" approach. The difference between them is the dif- ference between shapelessness and "quasi-allegory." She further assesses that the modern novel is closer to the eighteenth century rationalistic allegories and moral tales. than it is to her preferred nineteenth century novels.1 In another article. Murdoch answers Kermode's direct question about the nature of "crystalline" by saying. "There is a 56 57 tendency. . . to produce a closely-coiled. carefully constructed object wherein the story. . . is the import- ant thing and. . . suggests a particular. fairly clear moral."2 The similarity between this and Coleridge's definition of allegory is striking. Each shuns the abstract and lifeless quality of traditional allegory. It is no surprise. then. when Murdoch's critics use this same traditional definiton as a kind of weapon against her. A sampling of the critics will illustrate their general reaction to several of her works. Kemp call her "semi-allegorical”. a writer concerned not with people but themes. And while he finds those themes worthy of treatment. he argues that such an emphasis causes insufficient characterization. The resultant work is a highly patterned one: and although he calls it "aesthetically pleasing". it is condemned for its unreality.3 Slade says of hphpqhhg Soldiers that it is a story for "highbrows. . . whose intimations of Immanence allow you to take the romance allegorically.”u Reviewing the same novel. Lehmann-Haupt finds it ". . . a Christian allegory. which examines various courses of conduct in a world where God (Guy) is dead" and suggests that it would be wise to read Murdoch lightly. Any other attempt transforms her work into "religious clap-trap."5 Updike also complains that Nuns and Soldiers resembles an allegory. especially if Guy and his twelve relations are analyzed.6 Sage calls Murdoch's style a "loose form of allegory" 58 used to "express the provisional nature of one's world picture." The manner in which the writing is allegorical or provisional is not developed. and Sage is content to speculate on the abstract meaning of a few images. For instance. she postulates that the image of the London underground "demonstrates the fragility of mental space unsupported by the colours and perspectives of the art of material life."7 Raban calls Thg Sacred hhh Profane ‘hpyp Machine a series of "stately tableaux”. ”allegorical scenes" in which the characters behave self-consciously in the allegorical form.8 The perceived structuring element. a substitution of the real for the unreal is condemned as is the use of typed characters. Personification is an old trick of allegory and the complaints that Murdoch uses it are numerous. Kuehl finds only two categories of characters hng. and Thp unicorn: the enchanters. who are mysterious. magical and powerful creatures: and the enchanted. who are impotent. ignorant and powerless. These two groups are in constant conflict and stand as an allegory of the conflict between knowledge and illusion. Locked as they are in this ”metaphysical fantasy” the characters are consigned to acting out their types.9 When Sullivan examines Flight zppp the Enchanter and describes it as an "allegory of power" in which the "enslaved individuals" willingly give themselves to their enslavers, we have 59 the feeling that Sullivan is acting as a commentary on Kuehl not Murdoch.10 Van O'Connor exemplifies the complaint against personification by saying that Murdoch's "characters are interesting puppets and interesting symbols. and she can make them dance or place them erect 11 The critics do not see real in an eerie green light. people but only an intellectual action that privileges the idea. I This mechanistic judgment is extended to Murdoch's delineation of theme. Gindin postulates that her first four novels' titles parallel their themes. In ghggp phg hp: planned ways of life (logical patterns) are seen as nets that may entrap certain elements of reality but cannot contain all of reality. In Flight Epph php Enchanter the relationship between enchanter and his enchanted is explored: in Sandcastle the relationship between art and life is exhibited in the form of a middle-aged school teacher's affair with an artist: and in $22.22;; the material bell becomes a symbol of "the effort of humans 12 German too sums to construct their own salvation." up her themes: 'thpp p p hpp portrays Wittgenstein's search for precision of language: The Flightthgh php Enchanter traces the tragic paths of illusions: Sandcastle explores the relationship between the portrait and its live subject: and h Severed 323g discusses the nature of good manners.13 Even Scholes. an early defender of Murdoch as a "contemporary allegorist” who teaches her audience 60 to read allegorically. cannot conceal his traditional base. For while he defines her worlds as being full of "meanings but devoid of a meaning” he specifically describes Th2 Unicorn as a novel where "every scene. every character. and every event. . . contributes to the plot or the meaning--usually to both simultaneously.1u Iris Murdoch's fiction. then. seen in this circum- scribed fashion is traditionally allegorical. with all its attendant pejorative weight. It will be instructive to examine one of these mechanistic readings in order to demonstrate its typical process. Ann Grossman's interpretation of h Severed Head rests on the premise that it parallels Plato's Allegory pf phg ngg with a certain twist. While his allegory consists of both the illustration proper and its explanation. it is in the explanation that Plato interprets correctly his allegory: the cave is a figure of man's aspiration to knowledge consisting of two moments. In the first moment. man is pictured as being bound and chained in an underground pit with a fire behind and a wall in front. The images that the fire throws on the wall are thought to be true. In the second moment. man is freed and walks into the sunlight. seeing for the firSt time objects as they truly are. Plato completes his explanation with an explicit rendering of the figure's elements: the prison is the world of sight and the firelight is the sun.15 Grossman argues that if Murdoch's modification of Plato 61 is understood. a correct interpretation of h Severed hphg is ensured. She relates Murdoch's change in Plato. Out of his allegory. Murdoch draws three moments for the ascent to knowledge: worshipping the shadows while still chained: worshipping the fire when first released: and finally emerging into the light of the sun. Murdoch concentrates on the second moment. where she postulates that the fire stands for self and presents a temptation to the freed prisoner to stop and contemplate himself. The desire to be self-involved is exceedingly strong. while the desire to emerge into the hard light of the sun is felt by only a few.16 There is. then. a juxtaposition of the novel with its source that indicates a traditionally allegorical relationship. Its real elements. the characters and the setting. are locked inside a figuring structure that refuses to allow them any movement and instead consigns them to dull imitation. Rather than limiting this novel to a static re- write of Plato's allegory. perhaps if it is considered in a movement-oriented analysis. one based on the coming to consciousness of the characters in time. they can be rescued from their captivity. The recognition that time does not cease will not cancel the novel's obvious relationship to Plato. but it will enable the characters to exist in a world not already pre-drawn for them. In the opening of h Severed Head Martin Lynch-Gibbon and Georgie Hands are seen relaxing in front of a fiew 62 that is designed to recall the first stage in Plato's allegory. "The room had a glitter. . . as of some half- described treasure cavern." (SH. 7) The images that the fire throws on the wall are as mundane and innocuous as the pair of lovers in front of it. In the course of their conversation many ”truths” are uttered. but their existence in front of a fire sounds a warning. Like the false images that Plato's fire makes. so Martin's images are false. It is not a shock to discover that Martin is not unhappily married as he claimed with Georgie but is quite happy in his position between two women. Martin is shown next in front of another fire. a . "bright fire of coal and wood. . . glowing and murmmering in the grate and intermittent lamps lit with a soft gold the long room. . . ." (SH. 27) This attractive fire burns at Martin's home where he lives with his wife Antonia. Because of the parallel to the first stage's fire. we are led to speculate about the possibility of more lies. The narrative reveals that the suspicions are justified. for Antonia tells Martin that she's having an affair with her analyst. Palmer. Her statement "see what things are like hpfl" stands as a challenge to Martin to rouse him— self toward an understanding of the situation. That this is a first step of consciousness can be seen in Murdoch's addition of the lamp light. Martin is no longer only seeing images on the wall but can now see the fire itself. "The familiar world of ways and objects within which I had lived 63 for so long received me no more." (SH. #1) This fire of the ego is a resting point only. Thus. when Antonia suggests a menage de trdis and Martin submits. the arrangement can only be thought of as temporary. Following the form of the allegory. the prisoner's next step is into the light of the sun. so that whomever .Martin sees away from the fire and in an outside light will be analogous to the sun. "Great orange flares at Hyde Park Corner showed us the way into Knightsbridge. and by their light I stole a glance at my companion." (SH. 71) His companion is a woman. the only fact that this dim light reveals. And if it were not for the meaning con- ferred by Plato. the hint of her significance might be missed. What cannot be ignored is Martin's slow emergence into consciousness. His knowledge of Antonia's affair forces him to take a new look at all his surroundings. However. in the next scene Martin returns again to the fire. the "drawing room was full of golden fire- light" and just as the prisoner in the cave not only ascended to new levels but also sometimes returned to previously known levels. so Martin is returning to familiar places. The motive for such behavior is simple: it is painful to stand in the sunlight. There objects are revealed as they are not as they are desired to be. In this golden room are Antonia and Palmer. and here Martin stays. In this state of willed ignorance. Martin describes Honor Klein. the woman seen in the outside light. "like some insolent 6# and powerful captain. returning booted and spurred from a field of triumph. the dust of battle yet upon him. confronting the sovereign power who he was now ready if need be to bend to his will." (SH. 72) The highly poetic form of his impression of Honor yields interesting speculations. Why is such an ornate simile used in a false situation. whereas such plain language is used in the real situation? Perhaps. Murdoch is demonstrating Plato's feelings about art. His distrust of art and the artist are well known as is his insistence that truth does not dwell in written language. While the language may be accounted for by suggesting that it materializes his distrust. more subtly is the possibility that Murdoch is mirroring Plato's practice. He may say that language begets false- hood but he must use language to do so. His writings. too. contain very ornate similes and metaphors. whose only purpose is not to beautify the presentation but to attempt to represent truth. Martin is also attempting to embody Honor. and however much the truth of her may be clouded by his imagination. his attempt remains. Further. Martin has not tried this kind of representation before. so that his new knowledge of the outlines of his life is linked to his articulation. Consciousness brings a desire to see the true forms of the objects facing it. The narrative moves to the light of another fire where Martin's mistress meets his wife. ?The interview (A) C) 65 took place in Palmer's drawing room. the purple velvet curtains were drawn now upon the evening. . . lit by a dancing firelight. surrounded us like a wicked forest." (SH. 107) However. this fire is no longer comfortable: Martin's knowledge presents another obstacle. causing him frustration and despair. a condition that will continue as long as he remains in the firelight. Later. in a scene that intensifies the untenability of Martin's position. he is again in front of a fire. ”The fire was burning brightly but there was no one there.” (SH. 116) This time he is alone. and perhaps he will. as he contemplates the images of the fire with his new knowledge come to an understanding of his position. He says. "I shook myself out of these dreams." (SH. 116) rightfully identifying his life up to this point. He then moves to the dining room where. "Candles were burning still in the silver candlesticks on the long table. making of the room a cave of warm dim luminosity. . . ." (SH. 116) Notice that the light does not change. but Honor is there: and since Martin's first experience of her was a perception of truth, each time she appears. a further glimpse of truth should be expected. As in the ornate simile. she is seen in an artistic light. sitting at the dining room table with a Japanese Samuri sword in front of her. When Martin attempts to question her motives for telling Antonia and Palmer about his mistress. he only received a cryptic comment on justice. This is an idea that cannot be 66 discussed in the cave: it requires the light of the sun. The single possible approach to justice in these circum- stances is art and Martin's request that Honor "demonstrate" the sword's capacity gives evidence to the serious intent of art to outline truth. Honor declines to merely Show the sword. insisting that its use must always by done with a purpose. the "use of them is not merely an art but a spiritual exercise.” (SH. 120) Therefore. when she slices the sword through Palmer and Antonia's napkins. her intent to indict their behaviour can not be ignored. Juxtaposed to this artistic revelation is another and equally important one: The light from the candlesticks shon upon her [Antonié] golden head and his [Palmer soft silver one. They watched me. smiling. she infinitely soft and tender. he candid. confident. brilliant..Across the white bed their shoulders leaned together. and they glanced at me out of a centre of white and golden light. I closed the door on them as one closes the door of some rich reliquary or glorious triptych. The light was left within. (SH. 135) Martin's perception of Antonia and Palmer as religious figures tempts him to worship them and it looks as if a mysterious revelation has been effected. However. if this scene is considered with the set of controls used on other parts of the novel. it will be seen that it cannot be a revelation. No outside light has shone upon the twosome. so that none of the three has moved from the cave. Further. the suggestion that Antonia and Palmer can be viewed in religious terms displays the kind of false transcendence that Murdoch constantly 67 rejects. The scene is presented as if all differences have been smoothed over. as if Antonia and Palmer can be considered religious symbols. And this position could be maintained if Martin would choose to stay with them and forget the feeling that their relationship is not right. However. he does not so choose nor can he forget and his movement forces him to meet Honor again. this time in ”the bleak musty cavern that was Palmer's cellar." (SH. 136) Here. Honor talks to Martin poetically. calling him. '"The knight of infinite humiliation." 'Art effects its claim for revelation as these words cause Martin to partially recognize the truth. He literally fights with Honor. and it will be from both this physical contact and her outline of truth that he will begin his final ascent to full consciousness. Up to this point. Martin has been wholly self- involved. not even seeing others. He has been content to contemplate only his reactions to them. a use of people that Murdoch abhors. Now he apprehends the otherness of Honor. and in so doing falls in love with her. In Murdochian terms falling in love can be an avenue to truth. as it concentrates on the other person. admits of his unique existence. and so creates a space for the mind to perceive the absolute otherness of truth. Love allows Martin to pass the fire of his own ego: now he is ready to see things as they truly are. 68 However. these "things" are not pleasant. I crossed the room and opened a door. . . .I came out into the hall. A little light from the street lamp in front. coming through the open door of one of the front rooms. showed me the stairs. I began to mount the stairs. . . .Once on the upper landing I could see the line of light under the door of Honor's room. I hesitated only a moment. I advanced to the door and knocked. After so much breathless silence the sound of the knock seemed thunderous . .I opened the door. For a moment the light dazzled me. I saw opposite to me a large double divan bed. The room was brightly lit. Sitting up in this bed and staring straight at me was Honor. She was sitting sideways with the sheet over her legs. Upwards she was as tawny and as naked as a ship's figurehead. . . .Beside the bed a naked man has hastily engaged in pulling on a dressing gown. It was immediately and indubitably apparent that I had interrupted a scene of lovers. The man was Palmer. (SH. 159) Movement toward truth is painful: consoling images melt away. and Martin is faced with an absolute otherness that does not consider his ego at all. Martin has the choice to descend again to the comforts of the cave or to continue his path toward truth. There is no sunlight yet. Martin has left both the cave and the fire and is seeing true forms. but they are not yet illuminated by sunlight. This suffering becomes too intense and Martin descends again. "It had been raining for days. A bright fire was burning and the lamps were all on." (SH. 189) He and Antonia are together seeking a return to innocence. However. Martin has knowledge that he didn't possess at the beginning. making a return to innocence impossible. Thus. Martin seeks out Honor and this time finds her in the full light of the sun. "The bright sun made the 69 sombre room seem bleak and soulless. . . ." (SH. 190) However. sunlight is not comfortable. It does not placate the ego: it does not offer any false hope: and while Martin tells Honor he loves her. there is no romantic embrace. Honor replies instead: Ybur love doesn't live in the real world. I'm an object of fascination a severed head such as primitive tribes and alchemists used to use. annointing it with oil putting a morsel of gold upon its tongue to make it utter prophecies. (SH. 22#) Notice that art continues its ability to outline truth even in the light of the sun. Honor reveals to Martin his false opinion of her. Perhaps trying to properly respond or else acting in the only way he knows. Martin falls down to worship Honor. While this might be a correct response to truth. it is not a correct response to another human being. Although Honor has been consistently pre- sented as an instrument of truth. she is not its embodi- ment. Murdoch will not allow that. That would strip Honor of her humanity and turn her into an object. a false whole assuming a oneness with truth that cannot occur on a human level. Thus. Honor's response is appropriate. "You are living on dreams." (SH. 226) The choice that now faces Martin is identical to the one that has repeatedly presented itself: he may return to the cave or he may remain in the sunlight. Actually. the choice is not so cleanly offered. He cannot return to ignorance. as Antonia's next revelation demonstrates. She confesses as affair with Martin's brother asking 70 Martin to accept this "fact" as he did her relationship to Palmer. She argues. "After all you were unconsciously living it before. Perhaps we were all a little in a dream. Now it has come fully to consciousness. and things will be all right.” (SH. 229) However. things cannot be all right. Martin possesses knowledge and has had experiences which have changed him. He can wilfully return to the cave. but it will be stripped of his comfortable past and pretty illusions. Or he can stand alone in the sunlight attempting to see what is truly there. He chooses to stand and in this condition Honor returns to him. He says. "We have lived together in a dream up to now. When we awake will we find each other still?" (SH. 252) In equal acknowledgment of their precarious situation. Honor replies. "Well. we must hold hands tightly and hope that we can keep hold of each other through the dream and out into the waking world." (SH. 252) Each knows that the waking world is not warm and comfortable but cold and hard and in- habited by only a few people. The necessity of their movement to reach these heights is established as is the preservation of the form of reaching that goal. It is the ability to act in two directions simultaneously that has traditionally marked allegory's distinctive form. There is a surface action that spins through episodes so ordered as to mark a deeper action in the spiritual world. 71 Perhaps the critics' claim that Murdoch writes allegories is well-taken. For although I argued in the beginning of this interpretation that it is a movement- oriented one. and indeed Martin's progress is marked by his coming to consciousness. the stages he attains are mechanical ones that explicitly parallel Plato's allegory. The major difference between my interpretation and Ann Grossman's is that I chose to emphasize the particular working out of Martin's ascent to knowledge rather than the scheme itself. However. the coercive influence of the scheme is everywhere evident, marking out significant objects and insisting that they be assigned meaning in a particular manner. The form tends to gloss differences in the novel. It does not explain the spark of attraction between.Martin and Honor: or how it is possible that Martin chooses to love the person most painful to his own ego: or how it is that he chooses the path of good at all. The same complaint can be registered against those critics who interpret h Severed hphg in terms of Freud. If this most "myth ridden" novel. one that Murdoch herself 17 were wholly declares is an example of giving into myth. examined. it would be seen that although it would be easier to subsume all the novel's parts under a Freudian analysis. some significant pieces of the story line simply would not cooperate. Instead of being able to explain the significance of the work in terms of traditional 72 allegory. the novel shows itself to be larger than its explanation. And however exacting those tracings of influence are. they do not suffice as adequate descriptions of either Murdoch's structure or its meaning. We come away from reading her novels with a sense of frustration at the jumble of mythical objects. not knowing which one to pursue in order to produce the "right" interpreta- tion. We are annoyed at Murdoch with what appears to be a deliberately ambiguous series of choices. We rail along with the critic who opened Nphp ghg Soldiers. read its opening line. "Wittgenstein.” and said. "I am rather crossly aware that this must be an important clue that I could only follow up by reading Wittgenstein."18 On this level. the critic usually comes to Murdoch's novels with a pro-conceived theory from which meanings are created. And whatever the point of view is. dominated by language theory. patterns of imagery. archetypal motifs. psychology. history or sociology. the critic uses it to tame her multi-faceted surface. Even the systems of Jameson and de Man collapse into this category of complaint. For although theirs are sophisticated theories which illuminate the working of subjectivity. they remain as spokesmen for the visual horizon of man's knowledge. No where is this more succinctly stated than in Leonard Kriegel's propsed indictment of Murdoch: "We were. . .expecting something more. some synthesis of myth and contemporaneity that will do what great 73 art alone can do. fuse past and present and future into a vital crystallization of our world."19 Walter Benjamin names this variety of criticism. ”self-absorbed fantasizing. seeking to insinuate itself into the place of the creator. . . .a subjective criticism that eats everything alive."20 It is this voracious aspect of interpretation that impels Murdoch to say. "I'm against the intrusion into literary criticism of jargonistic theories. I don't think it helps. One has to keep a very open mind about literature and just look and respond to the work with one's whole self."21 Murdoch is not alone in her suspicion of theories. There are several critics when faced with her prodigious detail and mythical objects. who reveal genuine frustration concerning the manner in which an approach may best be accomplished. One such critic. Elizabeth Dipple. will illustrate my point. On one hand. Dipple postulates that Murdoch's objects acknowledge the "realist paradox of formless form. . .by her careful decisions to distract and crowd the forefront with the pleasures and confusions of 22 She argues that the explosion of detail contingent life." is a moral commitment of Murdoch's to the novel form. whose form-making action wills order out of chaos. But once having said this. Dipple does not recognize the logical necessity of accounting for the motives of such an action. 7# For when Dipple describes the novels proper. she does so in mythical terms. tending to read them as Coleridgean allegories. Thus. the cast of characters in‘h Fairly Honorable Defegp are transformed: Tallis becomes Jesus Christ: Julius King. Satan: Morgan. the human soul: and Leonard. God the Father. While it is true that this formulation originates from Murdoch and is perhaps the reason why Dipple so confidently presents it. if its context is understood. the reader can see that Murdoch is not suggesting a final interpretative scheme for the novel but is enjoying a game with her interviewer: Q. Would it be valid to say that thairly Honorable Defeat is a fable about the failure of the artist (JuIius King) to control his artwork without the interference of the saint (Tallis Browne)? Julius King's dramatic demonstration of Rupert Foster's hypocrisy results in Rupert's death: in fact. chaos reigns until the saint steps in and restores order-- a chore which Julius. as the artist. was supposed to perform. Is there any connection between this allegory and the relationship between the ethical and the aesthetic ideas which Tallis and Julius seem to represent? Does the book imply that art is properly a function of morality? Murdoch: A. Of course. that book is a theological myth. I think hardly anybody notices this. but it doesn't matter: it's just something in the background. Julius King is. of course. Satan. and Tallis is a Christ figure. and Tallis' father (Leonard Browne) is God the Father. who finds that it's all gone wrong. Q. Yes. I was struck by Julius' demonic nature as well as the crucifixion image of Tallis pushing his empty pushcart up the road in Notting Hill. A. And then Morgan (Tallis' estranged wife and Julius' former mistress) is the human soul. for which the two protagonists are battling. When Julius recognizes who Tallis is. he can't help loving him. But obviously the 75 story has to stand up without this kind of structure being too evident. Q. Julius is a sort of Old Testament "instrument of justice”. as he calls himself. and his real Jewish name is Kahn. Is there any significance to this? A. Yes. this stuff about being an "instrument of justice" is a kind of double-talk. but there's something in it. too. 23 Throughout the interview Murdoch points out the dangers 'of such reductions. She makes distinctions between ”critics' talk” and novelists' work. between the form that poetry needs and the superior formlessness of the novel. between the temptation to impose form and the moral- ity not to. Indeed. formlessness plays a requisite part in her entire aesthetic. Therefore. it would be incon- sistent with the rest of her thought to consider her scheme of h Fairly Honorable Defeat binding. This short presentation of Dipple's approach may give the impression that she is blindly practicing symbolistic criticism and to an extent that is true. But her explanation of Thp Unicorn will demonstrate explicitly her implicit unease at such theoretical breakdowns of Murdoch. The beginning of the explanation doesn't sound too promising: "this is the first large allegory in which a character interprets and enacts the role of God."2u Dipple argues that an understanding of Hannah Crean—Smith will ensure a correct understanding of the novel. Hannah is presented as a type of Christ. whose sacrificial role in the novel parallels the spirit of Christ's life. However. 76 Dipple immediately expands her interpretation: Hannah is also Platonic Good and love. Each of these explanations is skillfully executed. resting on evidence from the novel itself. They lack. and their number bears this out any finality of position. Dipple is aware of this problem and repeatedly reminds herself that Murdoch resists interpretation. that indeed it is impossible to be content with searching out sources and expanding them into a theory. But she does not expand her theoretical horizons to include any rationale for Murdoch's peculiar structures. Another critic who reveals the same limitation is Frank Baldanza. He takes up the question of classifying Murdoch's novels by disagreeing specifically with a current term used to describe them. "philosophical novelist." He feels that this term only limits Murdoch and argues that she is a realist. However. her brand of realism is unusual and forces Baldanza to invent a new term. "transcendental realism." This he intends will include both her use of physical detail and myth. He argues that Murdoch uses realistic settings. plots. and characters but in such a manner that the devices catapult the characters into mythic situations. For example. Martin's mundane walk'to the basement for wine "erupts" into a confrontation with a goddess. ”This eruption of the unexpected is a testimony to the richness 0f reality, and it is not an anti-real element."25 77 How is it that Baldanza maintains his definition of wrestling with a goddess as realism is not pursued. so that the rationale behind its structure is ignored. Rather than discussing why Murdoch uses myth to portray people. Baldanza limits himself to the mythic situations themselves. For instance. he interprets Uhggp phg fig: as a presentation of two contrasting visions of life: the artist (Jake) and the saint (Hugo). The saint. who practices the contemplative life. attains a vision that is incommunicable: whereas the artist. who creates physical things. can not attain a vision. His sole concern is the problem of representing the saint's vision. Thus. the saint moves beyond the concrete world to the spiritual. while the artist remains tied to the concrete. Again. in discussing another novel. I§§.§2ll Baldanza presents his interpretation in mythical terms. He casts each character in terms of his or her spirituality. the plot in terms of struggle to religious consciousness. and the setting in terms of a "latter day garden."26 The tension that exists between Baldanza's term and its application is a result of his desire to classify Murdoch. He wants to reconcile the opposing tendencies in her work and tries to organize them on an hierarchial scale. When she resists such neat classification. rather than turning to the impetus behind the work and speculating on its nature. Baldanza uses his terminology as a judgmental tool. With it he finds Murdoch too "crystalline." 78 writing a "self-contained. fabulistic allegory."27 I would suggest that rather than the work not being able to "suppress" a I"natural tendency" toward allegory. Baldanza cannot suppress his need to classify. This is not to cast an aspersion on his fine commentary. For his artist/Saint metaphor. as well as his alien/god metaphor do open up aspects of Murdoch's structures. but the point is made in order to demonstrate the critical habit of expanding parts into wholes. Another critic who feels the pressure to reduce Murdoch works to patterns and her resistence to that. is William Hall. In the opening of his article on Bruno's pppgh. he confidently proposes two patterns with which to group all her novels: form (male) and female (contingency). However. he too backs away from the application of his own pattern. I am not suggesting here that each of Miss Murdoch's novels exists in a crude allegorical structure and that once the key is discovered the doors of perception fly open. . . .I am merely suggesting that there are times . . . .when the existence of a "master reference" controls and even dictates the particular view of two worlds in the specific novel where it occurs. 28 Who decides the ”master reference" and its appropriate application Hall leaves unexplained. In A.S. Byatt's Degpees pi Freedom the same kinds of ' tensions come to the fore. Initially Byatt sets herself the task of examining characters and judging their varying degrees of freedom. I want to describe a Byatt rendering of one of Murdoch's novels. so that the kinds of problems 79 Byatt encounters begin to emerge. Her interpretation discusses The Unicorn and begins with Murdoch's own acknowledgment that the novel draws on LeFanu's definition of a good ghost story: that is. a story in which the protagonist's own guilt pursues him. Byatt concentrates on the psychological ramifications of this kind of guilt in strict Freudian terms. The resultant explanation of the characters' motivations and of the relationships among them in terms of neurosis and taboo is illuminating. From this viewpoint. Effingham's love of Hannah can be spoken of in Oedipal terms and her suffering can be viewed as an "obsessional neurotic fantasy."29 However. an unexplained phenomenon occurs. Rather than closing the discussion. Byatt continues it within the parameters of another structure. a religious one. Here Hannah is interpreted as a type of Christ: Riders. the Platonic perspective on life: Gaze. the Christian view: Gerald. the avenger: Denis. the Ideal Christian: and Violet. the Calvinist. This is a traditionally allegorical reading and indeed Byatt senses an "allegorical feeling” in the novel.30 Why is she irresistibly drawn to include such an interpretation? As in the case of Baldanza's criticism. Byatt is experiencing difficulty in classification. For Thp Unicorn is unmistakeably moral in its concerns. The world it creates may be partially explained by its inhabitants' psychological motivations. but it cannot be totally explained in that manner. Byatt's slide from psychology to religious 80 terminology is a just recognition of the nature of the novel. However. there is yet the difficulty of describing that world. For to read Murdoch in a purely Christian or Platonic perspective is as limiting as to read her works in a purely Freudian manner. Byatt grapples with the problem when she speculates on the nature of Murdoch's structures. In them she sees two levels of meaning: the concrete and the mythical. She argues that the author uses her characters to present her own ideas. thus writing a ”philosophic myth.”31 Using this term as a tool. the author again turns to ghp Unicorn and finds that the novel contains too much myth. Ate and her attendant meanings over-ride the concrete events. making it impossible to believe in Hannah's suffering. .I would suggest that Byatt's own term is heavily weighted in favor of finding only mythical structures. While she maintains that Murdoch's work is her base. she is actually working from a premise that can only find myth. An attitude is needed that would allow Byatt to discuss the manner in which Murdoch uses the myth of Ate. uses Plato. uses Christianity to create a fictional world for her characters: and if this attitude could be invoked then the structural uses of these metaphors would be made plain. It could be seen that structurally it is impossible to believe in Hannah's suffering. for Murdoch carefully undercuts the Christ image my making Hannah selfish and imperfect. 81 In fact. Murdoch undercuts all myths including her own favored one. the truth-giving nature of death. by making a minor character the recipient of that vision. Not only does Effingham have his great vision ”Love is all" while trapped in a bog. but he also promptly forgets that vision when he is rescued. What is needed then is not another theory with which to reduce a writer's world to a symbolic statement but an attitude that will recognize the necessity for clearly understanding the author's theoretical base. This attitude would result in a critic who is sensitive to the nuances in a work. seeking to uncover the author's connections. Donna Gerstenberger is such a critic but even she doesn't wholly concentrate on the interrelationships between Murdoch's fictive enterprise and her theoretical base. Perhaps. the fault lies with the choice of novels to interpret. For Gerstenberger examines Thg Unicorn: and since this is a novel that the critics consistently reduce to philosophic statements. it is difficult to see its individual merits. Gerstenberger finds the usual elements of Feudal Christianity. classical virtue. and Gothic setting that most critics find. Certainly these mythic elements exist. but it doesn't seem useful to argue which set of outside paraphenalia to place over the work as a grid marking lines of congruence. Rather. it is more useful to meditate as Gerstenberger suggests on what the author means when she says Hannah was to have been a type of Christ who became ”unsuitable” for the role.32 82 When that quote is followed to its source. it becomes an ironic commentary on the difficulty of seeing anything directly. For the source is an interview between Murdoch and Ruth Heyd. However. their actual conversation is not reproduced. Heyd writes only a "reasonably accurate representation” after the fact.33 . . .Miss Murdoch spoke of Hannah Crean-Smith of Thp Unicorn. and how she eluded the pattern laid down by her creator. . . .Hannah became involved in falsehood and guilt herself. Her personality took unforeseen paths of development until she became an unsuitable image of redemption. 3# In attempting to reach the source. I wrote Murdoch a letter asking if Hannah's "unsuitibility" was the result of a human. a dogmatic. or a novelistic limitation. She replied. "Hannah's limitations. her highly ambiguous obsessions. are her own. not those of the novel. or the author. (As I see it)"35 Thinking about this kind of statement forces a return to the novel. Murdoch offers no other avenue. For her purposeful limitation of per- spective requires a sensitive reading of the work itself. If there is agreement between the critic and the author's pronouncement on her work, then the appropriate path is an elucidatory one delimiting Hannah's unsuitibility: or if the critic disagrees there must be an equal attempt to make clear the area of disagreement. The point becomes. then. not to prove if the world of Gaze can be construed as analogous to Yeat's ”Calvary" but to demonstrate how it is such an implication either adds to or detracts 83 from Hannah's perceived role. Another example of the criticism being suggested is Rubin Rabinovitz's disquisition of the significance of the bell in the novel of the same name. That bell has been the subject of much speculation. and it will be instructive to digress a moment in order to see the many interpretations assigned to it. Kaehele sees ”opposing standards of morality” in the two bells: the medieval bell stands for the ”ethics of love" and the modern one "36 For Gindin. the stands for the ”ethics of judgment. bell is a ”postulant". a hopeful symbol of man's effort to construct his own way of salvation.37 Baldanza views the bell as a complex of meaning that includes religious and sexual meanings.38 Byatt adopts Fraser's contention that the bell stands for lost order and faith.39 Are there. then. as many meanings for the bell as there are critics to read the work? If the critic insists on his own interpretation. the answer is yes: if however the critic judges it proper to stay within the confines of the novelistic world. the answer is no. But this negative response has a curious twist. For it does not mean that there is a single correct interpretation of the bell's meaning-~that would result in traditional allegory. Rather. and this is the point that Rabinovitz illuminates. the bell's significance is to be found in its differing mean- ing to each of the novel's characters. 8# The bell becomes not an object with one meaning but an object given meaning by its several observers. Each meaning is the "correct" one and stands as a summary of that speaker's value system.uo The same relationship could be said to exist between the various critics and their several interpretations of the bell. Their comments serve to show their own value systems. The critic who would apply outside theories to a work of art is betraying his position in an earlier and more naive world or worse betraying his own proprietary interest in literature. Simply becoming self-conscious about the value system being applied is not sufficient nor is it possible to see objectivily what the text is doing on its own. that implies a Jamesonian relationship to the work that ignores its own base in subjectivity. Murdoch's structures demand a recognition of both the text's subjectivity and the reader's subjectivity. Rabinovitz's discussion of the bell not only uncovers the subjectivity of the bell's meaning but also elucidates that meaning in terms of the reader's subjectivity. Thus. “1 and each character the bell becomes the ”voice of love”. who speaks about the bell shows his or her incapacity for perfect love. His analysis is not an imposition of his will. rather it is a revelation based on the text and its relationship to both character and reader. There is an implicit acknowledgment that in order not sink into ”self-absorbed fantasizing" the critic must attend both 85 to the totality of the author‘s fictive world and the reader's relationship to it. Apart from a certain attractiveness of spirit is there any reason for such a tolerant gesture? Heyd's commendation of this ”mature” attitude is not sufficient. noris her argument that the position figures Murdoch's moral commitment to see others.)+2 If the argument is restricted to a Murdochian world than either reason would be adequate as they form the base of her perspective. However. to advance them as aesthetic arguments does not credit their local beginnings. It is only when Heyd joins these two reasons to Murdoch's "commitment to formlessness" that she touches an area of aesthetic inquiry deserving examination. A "commitment to formlessness" is exclusive of a commitment to form. which is simply another mode of expressing the opposition of allegory and symbolism. In "The Sublime and The Beautiful Revisited." Murdoch examines the symbolist's position and delineates its inadequacies. Hers is not a cursory analysis but is a carefully constructed counter-argument which expresses her suspicion of Kantian aesthetics. Nor is her opposition limited to this single article. Versions of it can be found as early as her first book on Sartre (fiartre: The Romantic Rationalist. 1953) and her current book on Plato (Thp Fire and The Sun. 1981) The main opposition centers around Kant's distinction between the sublime and the beautiful. The beautiful 86 he defines as "the conceptless harmony between the imagination and the understanding.“+3 and here he places art. stripping it of reason and emotion. The symbolists appropriated Kant's concept and turned art into a kind of ”quasi-thing". a symbol that can be understood only by intuition and limited to a small. visible object. Here is the base of Murdoch's argument against the ”crystalline” novel. Its solipsistic nature is anti- thetical to her perspective. In order to give weight to her argument she traces the use of Kant through Hegel from whom the symbol gathered "the self locked in struggle with itself to Kierkegaard who closed the #4 Turning to even more modern system of self-interest. descendents of Kant. Murdoch briefly describes two trends:‘ existentialism and linguistic empiricism. whose self- centeredness and dream of precision mark them as Kantian. She is necessarily compressing intricate subjects as I am in order to force into relief their common ground. Her purpose is to indicate the symbol's function in modern literature and to set the background for her work. This literalness of the symbol is precisely the argument that Walter Benjamin uses against the modern symbol. He argues that the mis-conceived use of the symbol as a vehicle which claims to combine the material with the transcendent results not in a true union but in a "plastic" symbol that contents itself with a human union of disparate parts.“5 87 The reminder that symbolism is presenting an impossible wholeness of vision is not merely a space-making activity for the philosopher's own theory but is a radical indica— tion that to hold the symbolist's view is to espouse a certain metaphysic. That metaphysic is the adequacy of human knowledge. discussed in the first chapter and shown by Murdoch to be a direct result of Kantian aesthetics. He believes that we define ourselves by our ability to reason. Thus. to place art in the camp of non-reason relegates it to a pleasant but unnecessary role. As it is incapable of telling the truth or even allowing emotion it becomes mere ego-play. Murdoch sets herself the task of redefining art's position in life and in so doing sets forth her own metaphysic. It is her contention that Kant's theory of the sublime can be made. with certain modifications. into a theory of art. In the sublime. Kant recognizes two things: the formless nature of the world and an emotional reaction to that understanding. Whereas Kant retreats into "defiant pride in the free power of his reason.”6 feeling his superiority to all around him. Murdoch sees other people. thus coming to a recognition that his ego is not alone nor is it most important. By shifting her line of vision from the natural world to other men. Murdoch elevates the other person to primacy and the emotions as a necessary road to that discovery. This she does in full recognition of the difficulty of 88 such a move. Not only does the ego militate against such a re-orientation but it also dislikes the discipline involved in seeing the other person. Such a vantage point necessitates the tolerance. respect. love and freedom spoken of in chapter one. It also commands that chapter's recognition of the Kantian formlessness of the world. Murdoch speaks to this subject: And. somehow. we live in a literary atmosphere. When we tell stories or when we write letters. we are making a form out of something which might be formless. and this is one of the deep motives for literature. or for art of any sort: that one is defeating the formlessness of the world. . . by giving form to something which is perhaps alarmingly formless in its original condition-- a sort of rubble. It is as if we live in a kind of rubble World. and we are always making forms.#7 The desire to impose form and the moral commitment not to is the telling distinction of Murdoch's aesthetic. It is easy enough to claim the formlessness of the world. but it is difficult to practice in the realm of art. For the basic difference between art and life is that art requires a form while life does not. Thus. to create art requires a continual compromise between constriction and expansion. In the life of the artist. this dialectic exists as allegory: in the world of the critic. it exists as methodology. How is it that the critic can be said to truly see the other work? That is. how does the author's world find just explication in the critic's commentary. That subject forms the base of chapter three. where a methodology and its implementation in three of Murdoch's novels are presented. NOTES 1Murdoch. ”Against Dryness." p. 18. 2Frank Kermode. ”House of Fiction: Interviews with Iris Murdoch." Partisan Review 30 (1963): 63. 3Peter Kemp. "The Flight Against Fantasy: Iris Murdoch's The Red and The Green.” Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 'T969TT'#OBT"'-‘T"_' TTTTTT'T'TT'T” “George Slade. "A Romance for Highbrows.” New York Times Book Review (January #. 1981): 1#. 5Christopher Lehmann-Haupt. "Books of 'The Times': Nuns and Soldiers." New York Times (January 6. 1981): 20. 6John Updike. "Worlds and Worlds." The New Yorker 57 (March 23, 1981): 150. —"—"—" 7Lorna Sage. "The Pursuit of Imperfection." Critical Quarterly 17 Summer. 1977): 67. 8Jonathan Raban. "Iris Murdoch." Encounter 72 (July. 1979): 74. 9Linda Kuehl. "Iris Murdoch: The Novelist as Magician/ The Novelist as Artist." Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 1969): 3#8. 10Zohreh Sullivan. "The Contracting Universe of Iris Murdoch's Gothic Novels." Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 1969): 562. 11William Van O'Connor. "Iris Murdoch and The Formal and The Contingent." in his hp! University Wits and Thgqhhg pf Modernism (Champlain: Southern IllanlS UniveFEIty Press, 196;): p. 7 a 12James Gindin. "Images of Illusion in the Work of Iris Murdoch.” Texas Studies ih Language and Literature 2 (Summer. 1960): 178-95. 13Howard German. ”Allusions in the Early Novels of Iris Murdoch." Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 1969): 368. 368. 376. 1“Robert Scholes. The Fabulators (New York: Oxford University Press. 1967). p.‘107. 15Ann Grossman. ”Icon and Idols in Murdoch's h Severed Head." Studies ih Modern Fiction 18 (1977): 96. 89 9O 16Murdoch. Sovereignty. p. 96. 17Kermode. "House of Fiction.” p. 6#. 18Rosemary Dinnage. "Inside. Outside.” The Times Literary Supplement (September 15. 1980): 951. 19Leonard Kriegel. "Iris Murdoch: Everybody Through the Looking-Glass.” quoted in Charles Shapiro. Contem orar British Novelists (Carbondale: Southern IllanlS University Press, 1%5fi P. 63.. 20Benjamin. Origin. p. 53. 21Bellamy. p. 137. 22Elizabeth Dipple. Iris Murdoch. Work for the Spirit (Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1982). p. 69. 23Bellamy. pp. 136-7. 2“Dipple. p. 69. 25Frank Baldanza. Iris Murdoch (New York: Twayne Publishers. Inc.. 197#). p. 72. 26Ibid. 271bid.. p. 174. 28William Hall, "Bruno's Dream: Technique and Meaning in the Novels of Iris Murdoch." Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 1969): #33. 29A.s. Byatt. De see 9; Freedom (London: Barnes and Neble. Inc.. 1965). p. 1 8. 30Ibid.. p. 159. 31Ibid.. p. 186. 32Donna Gerstenber er. Iris Murdoch (Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press. 1975 . p. #1. 33Ruth Heyd. ”An Interview with Iris Murdoch." University 9; Windsor Review 1 (Spring. 1965): 139. 3”Ibid” p. 1#2. 35Letter from Iris Murdoch. October 19. 1983. 91 36Sharon Kaehele and Howard German. ”The Discovery of Reality in Iris Murdoch's The Bell.” Publications of the Modern Language Association 82 (December. 1967): 557. 37Cindin. p. 180. 38 Baldanza. p. 73. 39Byatt. p. 76. uoRubin Rabinovitz. Iris Murdoch (New York: Columbia University Press. 1968). P- 27- ulIbid. #zHeyd. pp. 139-40. :BMurdoch. ”The Sublime and The Beautiful Revisited." p. 2 8. ““Ibid.. p. 250. usBenjamin. Origin. p. 16#. #6Murdoch. "Revisited." p. 268. 47Dipple. p. 277. Chapter III Allegorical Structure in Representative Works: Part One In an early book review, Iris Murdoch poses some important critical questions that serve a dual purpose: they disclose her allegorical view of knowledge as well as suggest the critic's attitude toward structure. How does one judge a large-scale theory of this sort? Clearly there is no point in just saying impatiently, well is it true or not? The question is. how much will it explain. how much light will it throw. what will it connect with what? 1 Answering these questions necessitates a concentration on the work itself. a patient. quiet looking at the structure in order to determine its parameters. pecularities and laws of existence. The fact that such boundaries are not aimed at defining a unified structure is one of the allegorical principles of Murdoch's criticism. It is a principle that carries with it a recognition that while the human mind seeks unity it must settle for contingency. She finds the Canetti "book. . .full of starting points. embyro theories. sudden independent illuminations."2 These observations are not condemnatory. rather they remind the reader that not only is form the imposition of the writer but also that all knowledge is partial and impure. Structure for Murdoch consists of a series of open- ended events or thoughts that continually question 92 93 their right of existence by a double movement: first. in a centrifugal manner. and second. in a centripetal one. These are displayed in the action of a Murdochian plot. Here discrete actions are so ordered as to form a pattern. However. hers is not an unbroken symbolic design: rather. it admits the interruption of the irrational into both mental and physical worlds. These bits do not conform to the pattern and indeed impel the entire design into a new configuration. much like the workings of a kaleidescope. The entirely unforeseen developments or thoughts act as mirrors of the disjunctive allegorical movement of the world. just as the old and new patterns encourage speculation as to their uses. This is. fundamentally. the attitude of the allegorist. For the allegorist understands what is at stake in deliberately patterning events. Thus. the ”stops and starts" are not seen as flaws in what could be a perfect structure if only it were refined: rather these fragments become a "rune" in the fullest sense of Walter Benjamin's term.3 They act as contemplative signposts by which both reader and writer can partially reclaim or forge new knowledge. This is the allegorical attitude. a stance that cannot be slipped on and off as it proves itself useful. This is an approach to the nature of the self. its relationship to the world. and the constitutive power of language. 9# For Murdoch's mode of allegory. it is in prose that language recognizes contingency. She describes prose as the "word which is lived."u suggesting that here is the place for the formlessness of the physical world to be introduced to the form—making nature of the word. In prose there is an openness to contingency that poetry dispels. There is a lack of closure that allows the writer to work in the centrifugal mode while acknowledg- ing the existence of the centripetal. Perhaps. this paradox can best be understood in terms of the meanings and interrelationships of two words: grammar and thought. Grammar is the set of patterned conventions that provides the vehicle for the writer's thought to exist. It is based on a community agreement about the constitution of appropriate meaning and is everywhere bound by history. Thought. on the other hand. is the private use of grammar. Man's mind is not limited to typical operations nor is it restrained by history. For example. consider the term. repentence. There are a number of public conventions that make up the word's meaning. Otherwise. it would not be,this particular word that would fit a person's situation. However. the use that the individual makes of the word will be entirely his own.5 The manner in which grammar modifies and prescribes thought. and the reciprocal action of thought changing what grammar will allow to be said is an example of the tension inherent in allegorical structure. When we move 95 from a consideration of the abstract nature of that structure to a specific description of it. the practical question of how to describe such an action presents itself. I would like to suggest a schema that will allow such a description to move in the two already stated directions of allegory. directions that are not opposed to one another but modify each other's form. One direction will take the reader inside the work. It will be mainly a descriptive act. whose object is to understand the world presented to it. No judgment will be involved. rather a rummaging hand and a curious gaze will be employed so that the kind of world presented can be known. Its various inhabitants will be named as well as the design that their lives take. Benjamin's instruction to immerse ourselves if truth is our goal 6 Thus clothed in the specific will be taken seriously. characters and events we will be prepared to begin the second movement of the schema. This centripetal action will hinge on the question that asks the purpose of these various worlds. That is best answered with the term allegorical structure. whose purpose I am arguing is to "edify. explain. and provoke reflection."7 These allegorical structures will be incomplete. necessarily so. based as they are on an allegorical theory of knowledge. They are meant to educate in Benjamin's sense of that word. That is. they are not designed to dictate any behaviour or 96 attitude or belief but to isolate. explore and display something that is sometimes true. sometimes not but a something that has never been so presented before.8 This will allow the object to fully occupy its own place.' Further. these allegorical structures are moral in that they are personal expressions designed to not explore the self but to explore the other. They exist to treat subjects. subjects whose common concern is the human condition. To think and write about the human condition is Murdoch's desire: to choose the novel-form to do so is appropriate.9 For it is in this open form that the individual can truly meet others. She will illustrate several themes: love with its various mani- festation and infestations. the necessary in life. random causes and their effects. good and its limitations. pain as a teacher. death without consolation. and the virtuous life as the good life. This list certainly does not exhaust all of Murdoch's subjects. but it does indicate the major concerns of her writings. In using these subjects as larger indicators of various novels' meanings. there is an obvious danger of petrifying those meanings into symbolic images. It will be necessary. then. to remember that allegory is subjective. While it is premised on the otherness of truth. it is formed by the mind and as such is in error. Therefore. conscious effort must be made to move from a position before it becomes rigid. 97 This chapter and the following one will study the structures of representative works from Murdoch's prolific writings. I will examine both early and late novels. loosely following a chronological order. However. chronology is not the measuring stick: representation is. For it is one of the major contentions of this dissertation that allegory is everywhere expressed in Murdoch. Therefore. just as any work could have been chosen to represent her allegorical structures. so it is that the following six have been chosen: Under the Net (195#). Bruno's Dream (1969). '_I'_h_e_ Else}. Prince (1973). Eggs _a_n_d_ Soldiers (1980) and .222 Philosopher's Pppii (1983). I will also adopt the conventional mode of beginning with her first paragraphs mainly to establish a familiar pattern for the reader. This mode is not without danger given Murdoch's conviction that any choice of beginning involves an imposition of form that necessarily conflicts with the formless universe. However. keeping in mind that form may be imposed by "sorting out and emphasizing and attending to harmonious patterns which are already 10 we will begin. latent in the universe" Iris Murdoch's first novel thpp php up; was the public beginning of her career as a novelist. She had written and destroyed five novels. so she knows some- thing of the difficulties of beginnings. Her reception by the critics equally reflects a difficulty of beginning. For they tried to include her in the "Angry Young Man" 98 school and pointed to her main character as evidence. Jake is a liberal. who detests the establishment. scorns rent payments or profitable work. generally making a lot 11 of noise but not.possessing much power. However. Jake is not so easily categorized. For instance. his politics are practiced for expediency. his social behaviour is simply inattention. and his personality is lackadaisical. Before being caught up in rebuttals. it would be best to take Jake's advice. "Starting a novel is opening a door on a misty landscape: you can still see very little but you can smell the earth and feel the wind blowing." (UN. 277) When I saw Finn waiting for me at the corner of the street I knew at once that something had gone wrong. Finn usually waits for me in bed. or lean- ing up against the side of the door with his eyes closed. Moreover. I had been delayed by the strike. I hate the journey back to England anyway: and until I have been able to bury my head so deep in dear London. that I can forget that I have ever been away I am inconsolable. . . .On this occasion too the bottles of cognac which I always smuggle had been taken from me by Customs. so that when closing time came I was utterly abandoned to the torments of a morbid self- scrutiny. . . .Trains are bad for the nerves at the best of times. What did people have nightmares about before there were trains? So all being con- sidered. it was an odd thing that Finn should be waiting for me in the road. (UN. 7) Two people are introduced in this opening paragraph. the narrator and Finn. Although no physical descriptions occur several facts can be deduced: Jake habitually D associates with Finn, who fulfills a purely functional role: Jake has just returned from a trip having had a bad day: he has a few quirks: and generally he prefers his own thoughts. While the outlines of Jake's world 99 are barely sketched. the fact that it is the narrator's world is firmly presented. Both the first-person point of view. surely a most coercive viewpoint. and the past tense corroborate this fact. There is no attempt to maintain an illusion of fictive immediacy. The narrator's subjectivity manifests itself as the novel proceeds. Jake tosses out a few facts: name. age. height. hobbies. occupation as if those could be used for taking his measure. The usefulness of this kind of information is limited: and it is only when Jake tells the reader that the most important fact about him is his "shattered nerves" that anything like self-revelation occurs. He refuses to discuss the origin of those shattered nerves. saying. "That's another story. and I'm not telling you the whole story of my life.” (UN. 23) What is interesting about this statement is not only Jake's unwillingness to expose all aspects of himself but also his insistence that story-makingcan conceal. In an early visit to Mrs. Tinckham's shop Jake says. But I gritted my teeth against speech. I wanted to wait until I could present my story in a more dramatic way. The thing had possibilities. but as yet it lacked form. If I spoke now there was always the danger of my telling the truth: when caught unawares I usually tell the truth and what' s duller than that? (UN, 20) Truth. according to Jake. lacks form and drama. two things he prizes. It also makes its appearances in a dialogue setting: and while he can recognize it. he does not welcome it. At one point Jake talks about his 100 dislike of Finn in similiar terms. Finn is capable of making "objective statements when these are the last things that one wants. like a bright light on one's headache.” (UN. 9) Jake uses prose. then. to obfuscate truth. His introduction of Hugo best examples this practice. The novel has progressed sixty pages before Jake introduces Hugo: "I omitted to mention earlier that I am acquainted with Belfounder.“ (UN. 60) The belated placement and its casual tone deliberately belie the importance of their relationship. Hugo is Jake's antagonist and his narration is seen not so much as the traditional exposition of character but as a screening device that high-lights and shadows at will. Each episode presented is suspiéiously read. so that the reader asks not so much what has happened as what it is that the author is trying to conceal. What is hidden in Hugo's introduction is the narrator's relationship to Hugo and other characters: an allegorical structure of morality is being built. not simply a chronicle of events. There are relatively few characters in number (the measure being the abundance of persons in later Murdochian novels) and what is known about them is limited. Since Jake can turn his attention where he wills. the amount of space he gives to himself and to other people reflects his value system. The first paragraph gives an indication of the novel's center of interest and it is Jake. He finds himself enormously interesting 101 allowing others an existence when they relate to him. For instance. his friend Finn could be a very interesting character. He is Irish. truthful. humble. a drinker. and a philosopher. However. Jake Shows no curiousity about these facts or about their possible arrangement that might result in a true outline of Finn. They are only revealed because they relate to Jake. Dave Gellman could also be a very interesting character. He is a philosophy teacher with all sorts of different friends. However. Jake doesn't explore Dave's life but only allows him an existence as it relates to himself. This deliberate rejection of the reality of another person is the pattern of Jake's treatment of other people. This is true also of the crucial relationship with Hugo. He has been called by critics. a saint. Vulcan. a mythical father. the philosopher of silence. and Wittgenstein himself. There is at least some truth in such reactions. but they do.not do justice to Hugo nor do they express the basic problem that Murdoch sets herself to solve. Traditionally the outline of character is ascertained by an examination of the character's words. his actions. and others' reactions to him. Because ghhpp‘phg‘hgp is written in the first person. only the third kind of knowledge is possible. Therefore. any true outline of Hugo is impossible. Jake's carefully selected picture is intended to dazzle the reader by using massive amounts of deatil to build an impenetrable 102 personage. Any counter motion must begin with the discrete elements of the picture presented. An allegorical structure for all its form of subjectivity is based on the substantial nature of truth. Thus. some true bits and pieces of Hugo should emerge. Jake begins with an historical description of Hugo. All these ”facts" bring a measure of satisfaction. but one that does not bear close scrutiny. For if we ask what .we really know about Hugo. the answer is nothing yet. lInstead of illuminating the real Hugo. the historical sketch only serves to screen him. (This is a favorite device of Murdoch's.) It is only when Hugo's feelings about the making of set pieces in fireworks are disclosed that any portion of his real self is revealed. The peculiar problems of the set piece delighted Hugo and inspired him: the trigger-like relation of the parts. the contrasting appeal of explosion and colour. the blending of pyrotechnical styles. the methods for combining eclat with duration. the perennial question of the coda. . . .I think what pleased him most about them was their impermanence. I remember his holding forth to me once about what an honest thing a firework was. It was so patently just an ephemeral spurt of beauty of which in a moment nothing more was left. (UN. 61) Hugo's position to the concrete is manifested. He enjoys the set pieces because they involve all his senses not because they present a pleasing form. He does not have a structure that he is trying to articulate: he has only the discrete workings of the concrete elements. However. this is not a simple reversal of attention. for Hugo does use the parts to form a whole. There is 103 a sorting out that cannot be denied. but it is a pattern- making that allows theSe bits of detail to be wholly themselves while simultaneously being part of a whole. The conflict between the organizing mind and the un- organized flux stands in highest relief in this section: and it is a conflict unresolved. While Hugo is uncertain of the manner in which the detail and the whole come together. he is certain that theory is not the answer. . . .the newspapers began to talk. and to refer , to them as works of art. and to classify them into styles. This so much disgusted Hugo that it parae lysed his work. (UN. 61) The passage from which this quote is taken invites further speculation. What is Jake's influence on it? He does not pretend to be writing a faithful reproduction of a particular episode but has melded several incidents together. Thus. when he blatantly theorizes. ”I think what pleased him most about them was their impermanence." the untruthfulness of the statement can be assumed. Hugo's intention to become a watch-maker. a trade in which the permanent relationship of parts is its important feature. proves that Jake is just theorizing. A blend of objective fact and personal fantasy are being offered as character description. 'How much the two can or cannot be separated will become clearer if Hugo's character development is followed. Jake first met Hugo in a cold-cure hospital. That meeting does not dissolve into a romantic recognition of 10# kindred souls. Jake is quite hostile toward Hugo. and he responds with silence. It is during this initial phase that Jake physically describes Hugo. so that it is hardly surprising when the description doesn't add any knowledge. And while Jake repeats that the two of them discussed art. politics. literature. religion. history. science. society. and sex. the lack of any kind of account makes it impossible for those objects to add anything either. What is reported is a combination of the philosophical discussions between Jake and Hugo. But this account must be approached with caution for Jake's relationship to philosophy is suspect. Jake reconstructs their discussions in terms of an opposition: the man with the vision who cannot speak versus the man without the vision who can speak. ”I have never met a man more destitute than Hugo of anything which could be called a metaphysic or general Weltanschauung." (UN. 65) The problems of de— scribing the indescribable are worked out under the eyes of the reader. Jake's feeling that he is forced into such a theoretical construction is the actualization of his narrative position. It is hip story and he will tell it as he wishes. However. he is blocked by Hugo's reliance on detail. his abhorence of general theories. and his distrust of the ability to say anything correctly.. They stand at opposing poles best exemplified by their differing uses of the word. dramatic. Jake wants to make a drama of everything and 105 indeed he will not speak until he does. Hugo. on the other hand. complains that drama is used not convey anything accurately but to impress. to persuade. to cause a certain effect on.the hearer. He further argues that language carries this descriptive element. that it is its nature to carry both speaker and hearer away from truth. To push this conviction to its logical conclusion is to opt for silence. And Jake does place Hugo among those whose ideal is pregnant silence. What is too often glossed in explanations of ghhpp phg HE! is the implication of holding such a position. Silence can not be the conclusion of artistic endeavor. for that results in non-existence. which is ignorance and lack. not knowledge and fulness. In an interview almost ten years after writing this novel. Murdoch says of her intention: It plays with a philosophical idea. The problem which is mentioned in the title is the problem of how far conceptualizing and theorizing. which from one point of view are absolutely essential. in fact divide you from the thing that is the object of theoretical attention. 12 The traditional use of this bit of first-hand theorizing is to polarize silence and speech. to turn Hugo into a Wittgensteinian figure. That interpretation may indeed work. but it does not allow an alternative. And there is an alternative suggested. From one point of view conceptualizing and theorizing are necessary. as they are the vehicle through which the detail exists. Silence 106 becomes. then. not the ideal where the thing can be viewed with a steady eye. but a signal of frustration. the mark of defeat. Form. under these terms. becomes the constant attempt to say what is true. In other words. it becomes allegory. However. Jake's use of form does not follow this alternative. In early conversations between Hugo and him. Jake reports that Hugo does look at each thing: indeed. that he does not wish to stand silent before the concrete but constantly describes in order to understand it. However. later Jake ignores Hugo's attempts at description and generalizes him as the philosopher of silence. Further— more Jake has written this account long after the meetings I and has even produced a book based on them. so that to even pretend to present the original discussion is impossible. The action of imposing form has occured too many times. its habit too ingrained. Most importantly, form tends to remove reality from itself. concentrating as it must on the abstract qualities in a situation. This determining nature of form can be seen in the following passage: I can picture him now. as I so often saw him during those conversations. leaning far forward in his chair biting his knuckles as he picked up some hot-headed remark of mine. . . ."You mean? . . . he would say. and then he would rephrase what I had said in some completely simple and concrete way. which sometimes illuminated it enormously. and sometimes made nonsense of it entirely. (UN. 6#) Jake’s reconstruction uses its detail deceptively. The picture of an intense Hugo biting his nails and ponderously 107 thinking through a remark is an end in itself. There is no corresponding presentation of an actual statement made by Jake and its subsequent treatment by Hugo. There is no illumination or exposure: there is only Jake's picture of Hugo. His existence as a separate person has vanished. Jake has invested Hugo with a viewpoint and rigorously denies the real Hugo any chance of changing that perspective. Further. Jake insists that Hugo must be angry with him since he stole his ideas and put them in a book. The ensuing plot complication turns on this conception. Jake's adventures in pubs and movie sets all occur with the thought to regain Hugo's good opinion. They are climaxed in a final conversation between Hugo and Jake. However. this time there is a marked difference in Jake and his conception of himself. I was waiting for the sun to set. I had been back at Goldhawk Road now for several days. The sun- light moved very slowly on the white wall of the Hospital. casting a long shadow from a ledge halfway up the wall. . . .The wall was glaring white at mid-day. but toward evening the glare was withdrawn and a softer light glowed as if from within the concrete. showing up little irregularities in the stone. Occasionally a bird flew along between the windows and the wall. but looking always more like a false bird on a string than a real bird that would fly away somewhere else when it has passed the Hospital and go perhaps and perch upon a tree. Nothing grew upon the wall of the Hospital. . . .and even in imagination the wall would resist me and remain smooth and white. (UN, 221) If this descriptive passage is compared with the opening paragraph of the novel. several startling changes can be seen. While the form is still first person. this 108 person is struggling to describe something other than itself. There is more attention to detail-~the sun and its glare. the wall and its whiteness. the bird and its appearance. The style is flat-~subject. verb. object. And there is little attempt at varying the length or structure of the sentences. Along with the new attention to detail. there is also a resistence to the imagination's greening. The description offers no drama. no color. only an attempt to empty self from the description. Several events have occured that are causing Jake to take this new outward direction. Their resolution hinges on Jake's knowledge that he has completely mis-read a previous situation. For instance. not only is Hugo not angry with Jake. but he doesn't recognize the book's ideas as his own. Anna's conception of the mime theater is hers. not Hugo's: Jean Pierre can write a prize winner. not junk: Sadie loves Jake. not Hugo: and Jake's reply to these revelations is. ”I didn't realize all. . . . I might have behaved differently.” (UN. 256) He has based his actions and beliefs on erroneous interpretations: and those actions have culminated in a tangle. Jake. who has lived his life based on the premise that he is a free creature. has come face to face with a world that will not bend to him. Neither the situations nor the people involved will be subsumed under his control. They continually escape his under- standing and manipulation. The world that Murdoch 109 creates is an ambiguous one. There is conflict between the mind that would order and the thing that resists such placement. The novel's conclusion demonstrates Jake's new conception of the nature of the world. All work and all love. the search for wealth and fame. the search for truth. life itself. are made‘ up of moments which pass and become nothing. . . So we live: a spirit that broods and hovers over the continual death of time. the lost meaning. the unrecaptured moment. the unremembered face. until the final chop chop that ends all our moments and plunges that spirit back into the void from which it came. (UN. 275) If this version of ”All is vanity" can stand as a summary of life. what belief can prompt continuation? After considering the options and at the promptings of his own inner self. Jake elects the truth-saying possibility of art. It is during his last conversation with Hugo that this option emerges distinctly. Hugo urges Jake to pursue his trade of writing. just as he intends to pursue his of watch-making. Jake responds.” And what about the truth?. . . .What about the search for God?” (UN. 258) elicits this answer from Hugo. ”What more do you want?. . . .God is a task: God is detail. It all lies close to your hand." (UN. 258) Rather than the mysterious search for a truth that lies beyond. Hugo is suggesting that all that can be known of truth is here and now and .is to be found by a patient sorting out of the concrete whether in watches or words. The tension is not between the artist and the saint. that pre-supposes the anterior symbolic richness of the saint's vision. The tension 110 is between the saying power of the word and the distorting power of that same word. And the structure of the novel. moving from writing for concealment to writing for revelation bears out this tension's existence as well as man's proper response. However. it is a response noted for its barely perceptible movement. After all. Jake's attempt to follow Hugo's injunction is this novel and its imperfections and deficiencies have been well noted. Jake's nerves are not just shattered this once. but have been shattered before. And since there is no record of a previous cure. there is no assurance that he didn't affect one in a similar manner. However tenuous. though. Jake has taken the first step toward making art. In a Murdochian world this is a moral decision to turn from inward to out- ward contemplation and to commit it to writing. It places highest value on the other person and in Jake's case can be seen in his new attitude toward Anna. He no longer has a "picture of Anna". now ”Anna really existed as a separate being and not as a part of myself.” (UN. 268) Jake began the novel living only for himself: he ends the novel able to recognize his mistakes. The novel's ending does not consist of neat solutions: it does not offer platitudes about the virtuousness of the artistic life: it does not propose a pattern of living that others should follow. Rather it is marked by Jake's recognition of the difficulty in seeing the other. Therefore. the tiniest detail. truly 111 seen. contains value and is worthy of exploration. His change is slow and victory is not secure. What can be sought is some small approach to the other that will describe it as it is. That this exploration is hampered by man's limited knowledge is axiomatic in allegorical structures. .Detail is the base of Jake's new appreciation for the world. Through it he hopes to find truth. and through it Murdoch establishes her hold on the physical world. For only an aesthetic that places faith in the otherness of truth can dare to place faith in the reality of the other person. To move. then. with this emphasis to $22.22;; will make its choice as the second novel to be examined less mystifying. For it is the novel considered by the critics to be Murdoch's most naturalistic one.13 Whatever naturalistic may mean in other contexts. in criticism it generally means that the critic feels the writer has taken an objective stance toward his subject. endeavored to be free of formal structures. and presents the subject in minute. observeable detail. Further. by its explicit reliance on the physical. naturalism is opposed to any spiritual. intellectual or fictitious theories of meaning. To place Th2 2gp; in the camp of naturalism. then. is not just to recognize its reliance on the concrete. but it is to assign to it a deterministic view of man's life and actions, However, within the confines of the same criticism. there is an opposite pull.. While recognizing the naturalistic 112 bent of IQ§.§2llv there is a simultaneous recognition of its idealistic element. This may cause frustration for the naturalists but for the allegorist it is the paradoxical expression of allegory's form. How this paradox manifests itself can be seen in the opening paragraphs. Dora Greenfield left her husband because she was . afraid of him. She decided six months later to return to him for the same reason. The absent Paul. haunting her with letters and telephone bells and imagined footsteps on the stairs had begun to be the greater torment. Dora suffered from guilt. and with guilt came fear. She decided at last that the persecution of his presence was to be preferred to the persecu- tion of his absence. Dora was still very young. though she vaguely thought of herself as past her prime. She came of a lower middle-class London family. Her father had died when she was nine years old. and her mother. with whom she had never got on very well. had married again. When Dora was eighteen she entered the Slade school of art with a scholar- ship. and had been there two years when she encountered Paul. The role of an art student . suited Dora. It was indeed the only role she had ever been able whole-heartedly to play. . . . she had been happy. (TB. 7) In these opening paragraphs. Murdoch introduces the first of several main characters by allowing the reader to see both Dora's thinking and her external appearance. _This melding of outside and inside. Simultaneously claims a third person narrational objectivity and demonstrates the mind's effect on objects. To so yoke these divergent perspectives is to forge a technique that recognizes the mind's use of detail for idealistic purposes. Dora's mind is more emotional than rational. as seen in her reaction to her image in a mirror: 113 . . .she looked good. She had a round well-formed face and a large mouth that liked to smile. Her eyes were a dark slaty blue and rather long and large. . . This was attractive. Her figure was by no means what it had been. (TB. 16 The minute details. natural progression and tone all indicate an objective description. However. the next paragraph presents a different picture: . Feeling fat and hot. . .Dora squeezed herself in . . .Her skirt was tight. Her high- heeled shoes were tight too. She could feel her own perspiration and. . .that of others. (TB. 16) Which description is the real one? Which set of facts can be held up as a true description of Dora? Both are products of her mind. Both relate "facts" about her appearance and are used in a positive and negative manner. Depending on the state of mind that observes. the facts are made to fit either description. In this instance. the mind is influenced by a change in the physical surroundings. The hot day is affecting Dora's outlook. A reverse transformation occurs when Dora sits down in her seat and finds herself being shamed into giving it up for an older woman. Dora does not wish to give up her seat but does so anyway. This time the mind triumphs over the physical. However. the mind's action has a distinctly different nature than the physical act. The exact distinction can be seen in Dora's reaction to two male traveling companions. She flirts with the younger one and begins to feel a reciprocal appreciation. However. one of his remarks in the continuing conversation be- tween the two men suddenly turn a physical event into a ‘ 11# mental one. The two have been discussing the importance of a particular bell. The older man says. ”We hope to have a lot of you young people visiting us at Imber." (TB, 21) That single place name has a violent effect on Dora. and she is faced with the peculiar demands of a mental event. Just as the question of whether to give up a seat to an elderly person causes a moral problem. so the question of flirting with an incoming member to a religious lay coMmunity causes one too. Natural reasons do not suffice as a rationale for Dora's reaction. There is an ethical element in the mental event that refuses to be contained in the environment: a moral cast that in- habits the mind's working: A sort of tension between naturalism and idealism is developing. Dora's mind is ”working" on all the facts. re-writing them to resemble her own fears and mis-givings. This will not diminish as the novel progresses but will show itself in larger forms. For while Dora is certainly one of the novel's important story lines. she is not the main one. That has to do with the existence of Imber Court. a country estate that has been transformed into an Anglican lay community attached to Imber Abbey. The persons in- volved in this lay community all face. in varying degrees of intensity. the same paradox presented in the opening paragraphs: the interrelationship of the natural and the ideal. 115 Why is Dora allowed to introduce Imber Court? Why not save that description for a more sympathetic character. One of the most interesting on-going laws of the Murdochian world is that other people and other things have an independent existence. While their perceptions cannot be controlled. their unalterable existence can be insisted upon. To use a hostile viewppint to describe an object or person is an act of faith in the potency of the other. No where is this faith better rewarded than in Dora's. description of Imber Court and Abbey. . .Dora gave a gasp of surprise. A large house faced them. from a considerable distance away. down an avenue of trees. The avenue was dark. but the house stood beyond it with the declining sun slanting across its front. It was a very pale grey. and with a colorless sky of evening light behind it. it had the washed brilliance of a print. In the centre of the facade a high pediment supported by four pillars rose over the line of the roof. A green copper dome curved above. At the first floor level the pillars ended at a balustrade. and from there a pair of stone staircases swept in two great curves to the ground. (TB. 27) This intense concentration on detail is concerned with line. color. and arrangement in the object it confronts. The analogy between the house and a painting is not a casual one but is written to display the manner in which Murdoch judges that emotion may be purged from a situation. Dora is able to move beyond her usual emotional response by considering the aesthetic value of the scene. Later in the novel. when Dora's life is so complicated and sub- jective that she no longer feels as if even Imber Court 116 has a life. she goes to the National Gallery for the same purging action. This habit of minute observation continues into Dora's decription of landscape so completely that a drawing can be made. AUEFH "Utiér L—-J ”a Qmflywsoua 3E::] ///,,’r”/ ‘Sfives m ¢ '/ and MTV 0“ fr ~n bndqu; Lola; ~ lunks !_ H “' F' .EII 1 I ll 1: :_33. : I: l This landscape is no fantasy. It has a physical reality that will wet anyone's feet if a wrong turn is taken and bump anyone's head if the location of a tree is forgotten. Dora also introduces the bell of the title. There are actually two bells in the novel: the new one. whose coming was discussed on the train. and a medieval one. whose disappearance is a focal point of legend. The opposition of naturalism and idealism surfaces in the two theories associated with the medieval bell. One side believes that the the time of convent dissolution. the bell had been thrown into the lake to save it from being melted down. 117 The other side believes: . . .that one of the nuns had a lover. . . . It was not known who the nun was. The young man was seen climbing the wall once or twice and ended up by falling and breaking his neck. The Abbess called on the guilty nun to confess. but no one came forward. Then the Bishop. . .also demanded that the guilty one should confess. When there was still no response he put a curse on the Abbey. and as the chronicler puts it. the great bell "flew like a bird out of the tower and fell into the lake." The guilty nun was so overwhelmed by this demonstration that she forthwith ran out of the Abbey gates and drowned herself in the lake. (TB. #2) The first explanation is the natural one. clearly stating its causal relationship: the second explanation is the idealistic one. depending on the mind's imaginative leaps. Dora attaches herself to the second explanation which sets up crosscurrents of influence that resemble earlier alternations. For although the idealistic story does capture Dora's interest. the portion of it that interests her is not the "miracle” but the nun. It is the natural element that her mind fixes one. Chapter four introduces the second center of conscious- ness. Toby Gashe. He espouses a brand of idealism that is completely at odds with the world. He is the young. the naive. the satisfied. the ”happy” man. His is the cloistered virtue whose expression is a confident summation of others. Thus. Toby pronounces James Tayper Pace ”manly”. Michael Meade ”weedy”. Catherine Fawley ”beautiful". Dora "mischievous”. and Nick Fawley ”a drunk.” This self- confident attitude will be tested as the novel unfolds 118 but essentially Toby maintains a naive outlook. He wrestles with but refuses to recognize the ambiguity of existence. The world according to Toby can easily be divided into right and wrong. It may seem as if Toby's idealism should belong to the leader of a religious community. but it is only when we are introduced to Michael that we understand idealism. too. has its complexities depending on which epistemological system it attaches itself to. In chapter six. Murdoch opens Michael's mind for inspection. a mind that finds it difficult to determine the difference between dream and reality. so that the symbol's desire to subsume all is pictured. When.Michael dreams he thinks himself awake and in this state believes he sees the nuns standing on the shore of Imber Lake. pulling a body from it. But this scene is a dream. The only reality is the "overwhelming sense of evil" (TB 80) which Michael is convinced comes from inside himself. The tension between idealism and naturalism is not in the polar expression of dreaming and waking or in the traditional idealistic refusal to dwell on the natural but in the more complex act of the natural and hence symbolic expression of idealism. Michael's spiritual beliefs assign a place for the natural working out of either good or evil. His founding principle for the community best exemplifies this process: there are people "hunted by God" who need a half-way place to live and 119 work out their relationship to God. Idealism. then. is not a simple choice of earth or heaven: it is the invest- ment of the natural with a spiritual significance. If Michael's idealism is set against Dora's character another of its characteristics is revealed. She acts on feeling while Michael acts on thought. He willfully turns from the dream to his tasks for the day. These tasks are then presented with bits of historical detail in order to objectify them. Michael's view of these duties is encased in an interesting metaphor-~soldiering. "The metier of soldiering. with its absolute requirements and its ideals of exactness and devotion had caught his. imagination." (TB. 88) Soldiering demands a replacement of self as the ultimate measure with an outside standard. There are attitudes. definitions. and actions that have their base in a structure external to the self. Certain actions are judged right. others wrong: so that soldiering becomes a moral action. There are. however. two kinds of soldiers: those who do not question the hierarchy and those who do. The two sermons by Michael and James Tayper Pace will act as examples of their opposing perspectives. James first defines the good life in terms of living. "without any image of oneself." (TB. 132) Conversely. Michael defines that same good life as having. "some conception of one's capacities." (TB. 201) James moves into a diatribe against the study of personality which suggests 120 that the measure of all things is internal rather than external. Knowledge of God's law and strict adherence to it is James' argument for living the good life. He says. The good man does what seems right. what the rule enjoins. without considering the consequences. without calculation or prevarication. knowing that God will make all for the best. . . .He does the best thing. breaking through the complexities of situations. and knows that God will make the best fruitful. (TB. 133) Michael. on the other hand. proposes that knowledge of self makes possible positive action. A person could then estimate his spiritual strength and expend it judiciously. We must not. for instance. perform an act because abstractly it seems to be a good act if in fact it is so contrary to our instinctive apprehensions of spirit- ual reality that we cannot carry it through. that is. cannot really perform it. . . .We must not arrogate to ourselves actions which belong to those whose spiritual vision is higher or other than ours. (TB. 205) To close his sermon. James uses the bell as an image of good. whose voice cannot help but be used. "A bell is made to speak out. What would be the value of a bell which was never rung? It rings out clearly. . . ."(TB 136) James grounds the image by linking his bell with both Imber Court's new bell and Catherine Fawley. who will make her entrance into the nunnery. For James. a soldier dutifully carries out those orders handed to him. His idealism is an abstract one. divorced from the physical world. It espouses an interest in humanity but is actually anti- human. desiring to move beyond the world and join itself to the perfect other. Murdoch makes this point in her prose writings. arguing that the symbolists may have believed 121 in an external truth. but it led them to institutions and dogmas. not people. Dogmas admit no imperfection.1u Surely. the definition of idealism that would strip it of any human connection makes it unintelligible. Michael. too. uses the image of the bell for the close of his sermon but toward a very different end. The bell is subject to the force of gravity. The swing that takes it down must also take it up. We too must learn to understand the mechanism of our spiritual energy. and find out where. for us. are the hiding places of our strength. . . .We must work. from inside outwards. through our strength. and by understanding and using exactly that energy which we have. acquire more. . . .This is the. struggle. . . . (TB 205) His bell is not an abstraction but a real one subject to physical laws. Its working mirrors those of the spiritual laws: that is. spirituality must be expressed through a particular physical being. Thus. Michael's form of soldiering is a mixture of self and outside authority. While he does not negate God's law. he subjects it to affirmation by the individual. Thus. perfectibility may be the goal but it is an impossible one. James' and Michael's resemblance to the two forms of allegory can hardly be ignored. James with his insis- tence on substituting the unreal for the real. on the external nature of truth. and man's perscribed path to that truth mirrors traditional allegory. All of its desire to purify the human is shown as is the bloodless result. Michael. conversely. figures post-modern allegory. While he retains a conception of external truth. he recognizes 122 that it is forever implicated in subjectivity. This allegory is a structure that must question itself. but there is also the undeniable element of truth. For Michael there is a self-serving motive behind this mixture. If the reader is unacquainted with Th2 hp}; it may come as a shock to find that Michael is a homosexual involved earlier with Nick and currently attracted to Toby. If the reader is acquainted with Thg hgii. Michael's sermon on man's imperfection may bring a sly remark as to his powers of ratiocination or it may move the conflict to more abstract levels. But that would miss the paradox on which Michael and Murdoch insist. When Murdoch locates the origins of homosexual love within the very nature of man and further sets it against his spiritual nature. she is suggesting the outline of the paradox. Here is no dogmatic pronouncement on the sin of sodomy: rather it is a careful probing of the moral problems that arise from a practice of homosexuality. The moral weight placed on Michael's shoulders after the in- cidents with Nick and Toby is a real one. The motives and intentions that Michael displays are not simply wrong: they are mixtures of right and wrong. And they reveal the nature of moral questions. Thus. not only is the Platonic chain from appearance to reality that begins itself in erotic love conjured but also the goodness. the rightness of the movement is raised. Perhaps. then. homosexual love can be. at the very least. a beginning 123 point of knowledge: and while man cannot claim to have knowledge of the way in which the transformation from imperfect to perfect love occurs. he can be certain that it does. When Michael denies Nick any human con- tact in the poignant moment when they salute each other across the lake. we reflect not only on the difficulty of perfected love. but also its necessity. Finally. Michael recognizes that James' injunction against self-study has merit: . . .that if one departs from a simple apprehension of certain definite commandments one may become absorbed in the excitement of a spiritual drama for its own sake. (TB. 207) Excitement and drama are emotional words that summon the imagination. an element that Michael considers part of his soldiering. Consistently in Murdoch. the imagina- .tion is presented as untrustworthy. Just as Jake's imagination leads him into constant illusionary story- making so Michael's imagination does the same. The mental event is being proffered as superior to the physical event. If we follow Dora's development. the same superiorty is seen. For it is only when she counters her emotions and thinks that she moves toward the good. For instance. her stay at Imber becomes such a subjective experience that her mind. "had eaten up its surroundings. that everything was now subjective." (TB. 183) Out of fear Dora flees to London where her flight to the National Gallery acts as a recurrent 12# version of Murdoch's idealism. Dora's consciousness can not devour the pictures. They have their own presence. their own authority. their own dignity. and their own unalterable existence. These structures not only refuse subservience to Dora's mind. but they also act as intima- tions of a reality that exists beyond the physical .the great light spaces of Italian pictures. more vast and southern than any real South. the angels of Botticelli. radiant as birds. delighted as gods. and curling like the tendrils of a vine. the glorious carnal presence of Susanna Fourment. the tragic presence of Margarethe Trip. the solemn world of Piero della Francesca with its early- morning colours. the enclosed and gilded world of Crivelli. (TB. 191) Renewed by this contact. Dora returns to Imber. However. her idealistic vision lasts only a few hours. Moreover. when Dora attempts to turn the community into a picture she fails. Coming upon the group silently Dora does not reveal herself but instead studies them much as She studied the pictures in the Gallery. She notes the lighting. the composition of the figures. their differing expressions and physical characteristics. But the community is not a picture. Its individual parts are not so much paint and paper: they are human beings who act on their own. who can change their relationship to other parts of the picture and who may get up and walk out of the arrangement altogether. Michael. too. does not long privilege the idealistic. Although he presents a picture of self-control to the Abbess. it is a picture that is not true. Nor does the 125 pattern he imposed on Catherine or Toby or Nick remain true. Each one violently rejects the place that Michael has given him. Catherine is not a devoted accolyte: Toby is not a homosexual partner: and Nick's surface cynicism masks despair. The pattern which he had seen in his life had .existed only in his own romantic imagination. At the human level there was no pattern. (TB. 312) No where is this lack of pattern more evident then in Nick's last act. He commits suicide and this act forces Michael to face the inadequacies of his idealism. He has arrogated to himself the making of significant patterns while ignoring their implication in subjectivity. Michael no longer prays or soldiers. The remaining emblem of his idealistic life is the Mass. . . .not consoling. not uplifting. but in some way factual. It contained for him no assurance that all would be made well that was not well. It simply existed as a kind of pure reality separate from the weaving of his own thoughts. . . .the Mass existed and Michael existed beside it. (TB. 313) The term emblem in order to describe the nature of the Mass and its relation to life serves to illuminate one of Murdoch's allegorical structures-~man's place in the universe. Emblem has a literal base that means "an in- sertion". to ”throw in." In this specific case. the central mystery of the Mass is the insertion of God into the world. If Michael's perspective of the Mass is examined. it is seen not as a symbolic expression of the fulness of any divine/human union. but rather as an allegorical lack of fulness. Its existence is certain. but its meaning 126 is not. The Mass becomes one of Walter Benjamin's signs. That is. it is only a Sign. only a signature. only a fragment of the truth it originally presented.15 It is not a palpable expression of truth. but a rune. Indeed. Michael comes away from the celebration of the Mass not with a strengthened belief in the existence of God but with only a tenuous indication that something external does exist. He must also faCe in this allegorical struCture that life may be meaningless. one wholly given to wrong patterning. When Michael says. "He thought of those against whom he had offended. and gathered them about him in this perhaps endless and perhaps meaningless attention." (TB. 31#) he is not making an existential cry against the meaninglessness of the universe. For that to be true. he would have to retain a conception of the centrality of his own self. Nor is he making a plea for the essentially idealistic character of life. For that to be true. he would have to retain a sense of the spiritual nature of reality. He is coming to the recognition that he can never know the other who proclaims sins. timetables. and significances and who does so from a position Michael cannot find and with a scale he cannot discern. However. the purpose of the novel is not only to illuminate our sense of lack. it is also to suggest the power of language. Language has forced Michael's recog- nition of his inadequate idealism. It has revealed his 127 love of Nick and Toby and his beliefs about the Mass. While his silence before the Abbess felt perfect. it was not. His position required the truth that only language could convey. Examples of the falseness of silence are multiple and lead to the same conclusion: the fulness of the symbol must give way to the rune of allegory.1'6 Only the recognition that truth is represented by lan- guage will allow man to begin a movement toward truth. For while the rune can claim to give only a partial view. it does so truthfully. ' One such truth that Murdoch writes is pain's ability . to teach. Early in Michael's life the pain of Nick's betrayal discloses the outside world's judgment of their relationship. Michael agrees with that judgment. practicing what he considers a vice. Here. he could have learned that vices are not easily discarded: indeed their pressures tend to become more subtle. But he does not. instead learning to hide pain. This turn inward becomes deeper in his relationship with Toby and re-acquaintance with Nick. There Michael's ego uses the young man for his own purpose. Though he loves Nick. too. he makes no effort to see the situation from Nick's viewpoint. In fact. that perspective is repressed completely. Thus. - when Nick commits suicide it is a surprise. That act is , is so incomprehensible. its ramifications so unknowable. that Michael must reflect on it before any sense can be made of it. He must tediously separate himself from Nick 128 thus separating emotion from fact. Just as the rune demands the "divine light of learning" for it to make sense. so this fragmentary action can only command Michael's interpretation. The suicide's real meaning is denied. for Nick cannot come back and give an account of his motives. Such a recognition questions our entire conception of reality. It is neither solely subjective nor objective. but an imperfect mixture of the two. existing under the aegis of extreme pain. Pain teaches a hard lesson. one that is unconsoling to the ego and brutal in its judgment. Under it Michael reassesses his past and is forced to admit his failure with Nick. MiChael cannot begin again but must carry the burden of his failure forever. There is only a small mitigating element in this knowledge. Although time cannot be reversed. distance will allow survival. This distance can lead in a negative fashion providing the ego space to re-clothe itself. Michael sees this danger. "The first agony passed and Michael found himself still living and thinking. Having at first feared to suffer too much. he later feared to suffer too little. or not in the right way." (TB. 311) However. the distance can also confirm his original recognition that the self is small. its actions imperfect and its salvation unintel- libible. The intense feeling will certainly pass. but the truth doesn't need to. Thus. the survival of the self ' can take on virtuous external dimensions. 129 For Michael that means a continuing involvement in Catherine's life. Whether or not that selfless action can continue indefinitely. Murdoch leaves open. Throughout the novel. Michael has begun his life again. and at each turn those beginnings have failed. Why does Murdoch tell a story that is skeptical of its own conclusions? Why present a main character whose self-knowledge is faulty and whose idealism is destructive? One of the tenets of post-modern allegory is its subjective nature. And while it is the single form that admits the necessity of external truth. it equally admits its involvement in subjectivity. Murdoch recognizes this: Each of us lives and chooses within a partly private. partly fabricated world. and although any particular belief might be shown to be "merely fantastic" it is false to suggest that we could. even in principle. ”purge" the world we confront of these personal elements. 17 The fabricated particularity of human experience is again taken up in Bruno's Dream. However. the detail of this novel is continually informed by mortality and this knowledge will further reveal allegory's ability to express truth. The sense of urgency that death engenders is seen in the novel's first paragraph. Bruno was waking up. The room seemed to be dark. He held his breath. testing the quality of the darkness. wondering if it was night or day. morn- ing or afternoon. If it was night that was bad and might be terrible. Afternoon could be terrible too if he woke up too early. The drama of sleeping and waking had become preoccupying and fearful now that consciousness itself could be so heavy a burden. One had to be cunning. He never let himself doze in the mornings for fear of not being able to fall 130 asleep after lunch. The television had been banished with its false sadnesses and its images of war. Perhaps he had nodded off over his book. He had had that dream again. about Janie and Maureen and the hatpin. He felt about him and began to push himself up a little on his pillows. his stockinged feet scrabbling inside the metal cage which lifted the weight of the blankets off them. Tight bedclothes are a major cause of bad feet. Not that Bruno's feet minded much at this stage. (BD. 3) Bruno's mind is working and judging the time of day and itself. both sleeping and waking. The outside world intrudes but its presence is not so important as Bruno's mind. After all. it only "seems" dark to Bruno: it could be either night or day. Further. the one making the observation that. "Tight bedclothes are a major cause of bad feet." also pronounces a judgment on Bruno. "Not that Bruno's feet minded much at this stage.” In this first paragraph three elements compete and will continue to compete throughout the novel: Bruno's mind. physical reality and the author's mind. In the first chapter Bruno predominates and the strength of his«mind is presented vividly. He rehearSes the move- ment of his day. repeating it as a litany to ward off the deeper workings of his mind. That is not altogether successful as the physical parts of his day call to mind people who in turn trigger images. These images sometimes are mere sense apparitions but usually reflect his judgment on the people he knows. For the reader these musings act as an introduction to the novel's other characters and exemplify the fabrications of the human 131 mind. For instance. Bruno relegates Adelaide to the place of only a servant. Nigel. who treats him with kindness. brings sweeter but no less selfish thoughts to mind. and his son-in-law. Danby. is rejected as a fool. Bruno hasn't seen his son Miles for ten years. but he denigrates Miles anyway. Bruno is convinced that Miles dislikes him because of an affair that Bruno had. While there is no logical connection between the two subjects. conjuring his affair allows Bruno to think about the two central persons in his life--his wife. Janie. and his mistress. Maureen. Thoughts about them always cause Bruno's emotions to surge. inevitably bring? ing him the image of Janie's death bed. Bruno cannot. face the fact that he refused to go to her. "How well he knew this particular rat-run of his mind. He must not, must not become so upset or he would not sleep at night and sleepless nights were torture." (BD. 16) Bruno's pitiless summing up of others together with his self-protective ego emerge in the first chapter. His body is dying. but his consciousness is as alive as ever and it purrs along saving Bruno from facing things he doesn't wish to. subsuming the irritating things by simply turning away from them. Each subject is introduced in this manner. If Bruno's mind touches some unresolved hurt. it skitters away and onto a new subject. The relationships. which are in the first chapter so summarily handled. are expanded in succeeding chapters. In fact. the break between chapters one and two is so 132 complete and so contradictory that the author must be vying for attention. Chapter one closes with Bruno crying for himself and his lost opportunities. From the general tone of the chapter and the promise of the novel's title the same kind of inwardness is expected to continue for the novel's duration. However. chapter two presents an entirely new mind. ’Danby Odell's interpretation of facts casts doubt on Bruno's preceeding interpretations. Adelaide is not just a maid. she is Danby's mistress. And neither is Danby simply a fool. The distance between Bruno's judgment and the truth of Danby's character is best exemplified by examining the "comical" aspect of his wife's death. Bruno had been appalled that any hus- band could find his wife's death comical. Gwen had jumped off a bridge to save a child that had fallen in. It turned out that the child could swim and so swam to shore while Gwen had had a heart attack and drowned. It was just like Gwen. he [Danby told himself. . . . It was just the sort of lunatic hing she would do. It was typical. Comic really. (BD. 26) Bruno's mis-understanding of comic is a serious indication of his habit of mind. It'is also a prelude to Danby's statement. "We all live in a private dream world most of the time." (BD. 25) and will be repeatedly proven to be true. Connections between people are like the connections between chapters one and two. Although the personnel may stay the same. the meaning changes from person to person. Bruno's first chapter summation of 133 all the characters is then seen not as the confused mis-statements of an old and sick man but as a pro- prietary act. In Chapter three we are introduced to Nigel. who is not performing Bruno's nursing duties. but is acting in an unusual manner. Nigel does not exist solely to plump pillows and rub cramps out of old men's feet: he is a mystic who practices the intricacies of his religion with seriousness. Nigel in black shirt. black tights. rotates. with out-stretched arms. . . .Nigel turns and turns. thin as a needle. thin as a straight line. narrow as a slitlet through which a steely blinding light attempts to issue forth into the fuzzy world. Concentric universe. Faster and faster now sphere within sphere revolves and sings. . . .the speck of dust the invisible slit in the skin through which it all sinks down and runs away. Two indistinct and terrible angels encircle the earth. embracing. enlacing. tumbling through cir- cular space. both oned and oneing in magnetic joy. Love and Death. pursuing and pursued. The sounds diminish and in the empty pallid azure the golden quoit spins away. At last. it has become a spot of radiance. a stain of gold. a fading. flash- ing laser beam. a single blinding point of light which absorbs all light unto itself. Nigel clutches his heart. He gasps. he groans. he reels. The presence is agony. punishment. stripes. the extended being tortured into a single point. Annilhilation. All.i§ 222- (BD. 27.8) Compare this vision with Bruno's from the first chapter: What had happened to him and what was it all about and did it matter now that it was practically all over. he wondered. It's all a dream. he thought. one goes through life in a dream. it's all too hard. Death refutes induction. There is not "it" for it to be all about. There is just the dream. its tex- ture. its essence. and in our last things we subsist only in the dream of another. a shade within a shade. fading. fading, fading. (BD. 9) 131+ The striking point of difference between these visions is the vantage point. Nigel looks outside himself and sees wonderful mysteries: Bruno looks inside himself and sees nothing but illusions. Death presents the only avenue for Bruno to move outside himself. Thus. it is appropriate to ask in what sense he means. "Death refutes induction." There is the logical interpretation that death is the mortal severance between the particular and the general. On this definition. Bruno can see no general truth nor can he imagine the reality of death. Its presence means more than logic can define. Further if death did succumb to deduction. it would pre-suppose an intelligible world. In Murdochian terms. that premise is seriously questioned. For Bruno standing in death's way and still mis-understanding those around him is a particular example of the unintelligibility of the world. ,There is. however. another definition of the sentence. The verb refute carries the physical residue of beating back or checking something: and the noun induction carries within it a physical act of initiation into a previously mysterious thing. Thus. the sentence may be understood as. "Death beats back an initiation into its mysteries." While the first definition rests on a belief in the subjective nature of death. this definition rests on a belief in its objective nature. Nigel's vision is exemplary of this possibility and his placement of the union of love and death outside consciousness clearly 135 brings him into conflict with Bruno's mind and its dreaming. This conflict between minds is a constantly underscored theme in Bruno's gaggm. for it mirrors the conflict between symbolic and allegorical modes of expression. When we are given access to Miles' mind in chapter six. we see that the poetry that Bruno dismissed as nonsense is the very core of Miles' life. The chapter begins with a quotation from his Notebook 2; Particulars. 32;. j. a journal that occupies his mind. Certainly his father doesn't fill his thoughts. The ten year estrange- ment has made it possible for Miles to pass judgment on his father just as Bruno has done on Miles. He has frozen his father in an instant of time and then carried that image with him._ It will take a shock for his judg- ment to be altered. a shock which comes in the form of 'a letter from Danby asking Miles to visit his father. The reaction is pure Milesian: He did not want this now. He did not want emotions and memories and scenes and unmanageable unforsee- able situations. He did not want to go through the rigmarole of forgiving and being forgiven. It would all be play-acting. It would be something hopelessly impure. And it might delay. it might offend. it might preclude forever the precious imminent visitation of the god. (BD. 69) Miles' personality stands in vivid relief herel.8 He dislikes the messy real world. preferring instead a carefully ordered existence centered around himself. His selfishness is tremendous. For his only thought about his father is the effect a meeting will have on himself. 136 There is no indication of any attention given to Bruno's sickness or feelings. Miles‘ solipsism perfectly mirrors Bruno's. He. too. in imagining his meeting with Miles. does not think about Miles. He is discussed in terms of an object to which Bruno can confess and purge his conscience. This desire for forgiveness and reconciliation exists only on the level of subjectivity. It is important to realize that this kind of attitude can only be handled in the manner that Miles suggest, by a "rigmarole". an illusionary act of forgiveness. To suggest that man can re-channel his feelings by an act of will is not possible. Just as Bruno has no control over the feelings that ”surge" when certain subjects are touched on. so Miles has no control. There is another possibility for forgiveness and reconciliation. an alternative view as to their nature and function. Both terms can be viewed from a legal rather than an emotional perspective. Forgiveness thus becomes an act of will in which the person who has a right to demand vengeance instead surrenders his claim. Reconciliation seen from this angle becomes an action done with the purpose of restoring communication. While feelings still exist. they are not given credence. The action taken becomes the important fact. However. this is possible only if both forgiveness and reconciliation exist independently. That is. the terms contain an unalterable standard of their own. Neither man can 137 accept these conditions. Miles rejects the definition as too idealistic. hence impossible. and Bruno can not see beyond himself far enough to admit anything else might exist. ' However. others do exist and Miles' second wife. Diana. also enters into the novel's fundamental rela- tionships. She describes her first meeting with Miles in these terms and in so doing describes herself: . . .it was. in some extraordinary way. the perfect working out of a dream. She had been searching for Miles. She recognized him at once. . .she had dreamed of a separated man. a sad austere secluded man. a man with a great sorrow. an ascetic. (BD. 63) Diana is an orderly person and Murdoch describes in detail the manner in which Diana passes time: embroidery. flower arranging. cooking. gardening. reading. playing records-- each carefully controlled. In fact. when Diana's sister _ Lisa needs a place to live. Diana and Miles are apprehen- sive about an interruption of their smooth life. But more importantly Diana's bland version of order does not even disturb Bruno's dreaming. She has no place in Bruno's mind at all. He insists on treating others as if. ”They are a part of my life-dream. . . .they are immersed in my consciousness like specimens in formalin." (BD. 10) And the author exhibits the same attitude. Her placement of persons in separate chapters and her insistence that the person thinking be allowed to turn others into objects. all point to the separateness of individuals. the 138 impossibility of knowing another person. Can this be the only purpose behind the allegorical structure of the novel? Are we to agree with Danby that, "We all live in a private dream world most of the time?” I don't think so. for the reality of other persons asserts it- self throughout the novel. Just as the rune asserts it rights of existence. so other people assert their individé uality. And as Bruno attempts to place others in his life. those others attempt to place him and each other in their lives. Consequently, there is high-speed mixing of persons; and since gaggm is the operative word. I will trace its movement in Diana's and Bruno's lives. . . Diana lives "her dream picture of herself" but is shocked toward reality when she discovers that Miles and Lisa are in love. Nigel is the informer and he_ says. "Let them trample over you in their own way." (BD. 238) forcing her to consider a version of reality that exists outside her. She wants to turn away. but Nigel won't let her. A human being hardly ever thinks about other people. He contemplates fantasms which resemble them and which he has decked out for his own purposes. Miles' thoughts cannot touch you. His thoughts are about . - Miles. This too you must see and forgive. (BD. 238-9) Still Diana resists the movement into reality. "It's all so mean. . . .It all seems like a dream now. a nightmare. with nothing clear." (BD. 239) Nigel counters. "It is mostly a dream. Diana. Only little pieces are clear and 139 they don't necessarily fit together." (ED. 239) To which Diana responds. "You've just talked nonsense to me." (BD. ZHO) The word nonsense bears examination. On the surface Diana is accusing Nigel of being silly and absurd. He agrees. "Of course. of course. I am the nonsense priest of the nonsense god." But there is a Kierkegaardian sense of this word which is at least in part adopted by Walter Benjamin and is appropriate for Nigel's description. Nonsense occurs when language is used to describe someé thing that is not an empirical fact. For instance. if someone says. "God became man." the sentence does not function logically. The words are grammatical but incom- mensurable with conceptual reality. Since the statement breaks the rules of language description. it may either be a correct description or an incorrect one. If it is neither. it is nonsense. However. Kierkegaard postulates a fourth possibility for language description. one that does not depend on logic. Language may not describe a verifiable fact but it still may serve to identify a fact. This is the way religious language "works." While "God became man" does not identify an empirical fact. in religious terms it offers a saying of the central mystery of Christ- 19 Diana's reply to Nigel transforms him into a symbol. ianity. one incapable of being grasped by the intellect alone. Just as Jesus Christ becomes a symbol of the mysterious 1#0 union of the natural and the divine. so Nigel becomes a symbol of the same union. In this perspective. Nigel changes from an odd bit of mechanical play to an attempt on Murdoch's part to insert God into the story. Chapter three is our introduction to Nigel. The present tense in which he is consistently presented throughout the novel is an authorian reminder of the eternal quality that God's nature demands and of those claims made for Nigel. Further. the metaphoric language gives evidence of the artist's attempt to describe the indescribable. Murdoch cannot say. "He is this." and point to an object, so she is forced into metaphor. Nigel's creative activity in the novel is a reflection of that activity of God's which according to major traditions must confound logic. In another passage. Nigel's godlikeness is under- scored. He listens to a philosophical conversation between Miles and Lisa; ”If by eternity is understood not endless temporal duration but timelessness. he lives eternally who lives in the present.” "Not how the world is but that it is is the mystical." "Whereof we cannot speak. " "Thereof we must be silent." (BD. 88) The utter indescribability of the eternal makes meaningful speech impossible. thus raising the spectre of distortion. The endpoint of symbolic knowledge is after all silence. However. Nigel is not God; he is merely God's representa- tive. Murdoch must make this distinction if she is to retain allegorical structure. And she does so by demonstrating 141 Nigel's humanity in two places: a conversation between Nigel and Bruno and a drama between Nigel and his brother. Nigel and Bruno frequently have conversations about God. Nigel does not have all the.answers: his temporal existence precludes omniscience. Thus. when he claims that death is something beautiful. something that he could be in love with. he is admonished by an older Bruno. "You're young. Nigel. You can't see death." Nigel's understanding of death is. than. not a mystical vision but a limited understanding. Similarly by its subject matter and past tense the drama between Nigel and Will displays Nigel's limitations. In this scene Nigel has emotions and desires with a will to carry them out. Nigel sneaks into Will's room and sets up an ingenious "machine" (This word Murdoch uses to connote cause and effect in the empirical and emotional worlds.) which pins Will against opposite ends of the bed. Unable to move. Nigel works his will upon his brother. It is within this human framework that Nigel tells Diana Lisa and Miles are in love. His divine advice comes from a very human source. Nigel explains his double role this way: May be this is how God appears now in the world. a little unregarded crazy person whom everyone pushes aside and knocks down and steps on. Or it can be that I am the false god. . . .The false god is the true God. Up any religion a man may climb. (BD. 23?) Nigel's implication in the human world with all its ambiguities have made it impossible to insist on a 142 theological status. Murdoch allows him to fade from the scene. finally moving completely off stage. However. the reality of his helping Bruno and Diana begin to see the relationship of love and death remains. This isn't hopeless confusion on Murdoch's part; rather. it is an articulation of the ambiguous nature of allegorical structures. Nigel cannot be a theological symbol; he is a man. There is yet one more element necessary before a final consideration of the structure of love and death can be made. and that is Bruno's movement from dream to reality. Chapter one establishes his movement, best explained as a gathering of attention toward death. His continuing subjectivity can best be seen in his own attitude toward God. I will quote the passage extensively as it covers Bruno's life-time. When I was very young. . . .I thought of God as a great blank thing. rather like the sky, in fact perhaps He was the sky. all friendliness and pro- tectiveness— and fondness for little children. . . I have never thought much about Jesus Christ. I suppose I took him for granted. It was the great big blank egg of the sky that I loved and felt so safe and happy with. . . .Later it was different. it was when I first started to look at spiders. . . I don' t know that I imagined God as having thought it all out. but somehow He was connected with the pattern. He was the pattern. He was those spiders which I watched in the light of— my electric torch on summer nights. There was wonderfulness. a separateness. it was the divine to see those spiders living their ex- traordinary lives. Later in adolescence it allbbe- came confused with emotion. I thought that God was Love. a big sloppy love that drenched the world with big wet kisses and made everything all right. I felt touched by myself. I loved God. . . Afterwards He became less. He got drier and pettier 1&3 and more like an official who made rules. . . . There was no innocence and no radiance then. I stopped loving Him and began to find Him de- pressing. Then He receded altogether. He became something the women did. . .I met Him again. most often in country churches. . . .He was something rather lost and pathetic. a little crazed perhaps. and small. I felt sorry for Him. if I had been able to take Him by the hand it would have been like leading a little child. . . .Later on again He was simply gone. He was nothing but an intellectual fiction. an old hypothesis. a piece of literature. (BD. 100) Bruno's first thoughts of God are tied to family and self. God does not exist as a separate entity and. indeed. the Old Testament concept of sin that gave a measure of the distance between God and man is missing. Bruno's nineteenth century patronization of God shines forth: and since he has no objective set of measure- ments. he keeps his muzzy feelings. The next stage. too. retains this emotional attachment. While Bruno's discussion of pattern looks as if he is turning outward. he is not. The suggestion of an early American typology made between spiders and God lacks that era's insistence on God's utter otherness. Unlike Job who met God and was moved to worship the unseen. Bruno meets God and is moved to worship the seen and his ability to see it. The next stage is full of Bruno's personal reactions. He emphasizes the "I"--"I thought". "I felt". "I experienced". "I was”. and culminating in "I was deeply touched by myself." This final statement shows a romantic consciousness in the full flavor of its self-confidence. In Murdoch's world. it is true that adolescence and a certain kind of 14a unsconscious middle-age have this feeling of confidence and well-being. God's role is to applaud man's successes and understand his failures. Bruno is in possession of his very attractive self. Yet again. Bruno's conception of God shifts. Now the self must face its tendency to judge. Innocence yields to knowledge which admits the concept of judgment. But the concurrent knowledge of God as other is lacking. and the statement. "I stopped loving him.” expresses the attitude of a still triumphant self. Bruno continues to ignore any conception of an external God. Although he endeavors to belittle God. his existence is still presumed. Finally, Bruno expunges even God's existence. God has not just died; that is. he wasn't a force in history who because of ineffectiveness decided to absent himself. Bruno argues that God never existed.. It is as if all the other stages were false ones written to soothe a conscious- ness that does not wish to face its own solipsism. The absolute voraciousness of the self is established. If Bruno's final view of God is correct. then Bruno's own existence is in question. _When he dies and is forgotten by others. it will be as if he never existed either. Since this is intolerable to his ego. it is the ego that initiates a true looking outside itself to death. Bruno : He stared at his old red dressing gown hanging on the door. a big shrouded thing in the dim light. Why had it somehow become the symbol of his death? 1#5 The old dressing gown would still be there when they returned with relief from the funeral and began to get out the bottles. and then someone would say. ”Bruno's gone. but there's his poor old dressing gown still hanging on the door." (BD. 17) This image of death is an unusual one and warrants questioning. The dressing gown's irrefutable and par- ticular existence as "Bruno's gown" makes it the vehicle for displaying Bruno's existence. There will be a dividing time between Bruno's existence and non-existence. While this can be interpreted as a source of comfort. it can also be interpreted as a source of disquiet. If Bruno is not a dream. then what can his death mean? "Do you know what I think?" said Bruno. staring hard at the dressing gown in the dim light. "I think God is death. That's it. God is death." (BD. 102) Facing death in Murdochian terms causes either a return to the character's dream world or a step into reality. That is. it either admits the triumph of subjectivity of the personality or its objectivity. The final chapter displays all of the characters in varying attitudes towards death. Only Bruno and Diana take the step into reality. .That reality for both of them is the otherness of death. How is it that they face death without consolation. for it is necessary that they do to avoid utter subjectivity. While the opening sentence of chapter thirty-two mirrors chapter one, "Bruno was waking up." his concerns are now altered. Waking up was different now. It was a kind of entry into pain which was like a very slow quiet entry into warm water. The pain was not physical pain. . . . 1#6 There were sudden wrenches with a sense of some- thing inward griping and collapsing. . . .This other pain was of the mind. or somehow of the whole being as if in the doomed animal mind and body were fusing into almost diaphanous ectoplasm. . . . .The return from sleep into this ectoplasmic consciousness was always misery. I am still here. he thought. (BD. 298) Although there are no longer dreams or worries about daily existence. there remains Bruno's consciousness. an object that no longer function in familiar patterns: He felt as if the centre of his mind was occupied by a huge black box which took up nearly all the space and round which he had to edge his way. Names not only of people but of things eluded him. (BD. 299) His mind can now discern abstractions. such as the passage of time. It is a visible movement to him. so that the parade of bedpan. soup. visitor. reading. and moaning are not apprehended as fragments of his whole day but savored for their unique individuality. Bruno is no longer "writing" persons and things into his pattern. This new perception of time and things extends to his Past as well. Those personal pictures no longer cause a surge of emotion. They have become incredibly detailed images of past events. Bruno does not wish to re-make them; he is content to view them as a catalog of discrete events. Bruno thinks. "I am dying. . .but what is it like? (BD. 300) In describing the nature of his death. he locates it in the present. "the whimpering fraility of his being which so dreaded extinction." He is fearful and recognizes that this fear staves off the destruction of the "structure of his personality." He attempts to 1&7 marshal his dignity. "some old habit of uprightness." that will help him. But he is convinced that dignity isn't enough, "There is another important thing." (BD. 301) He wishes desparately for a belief in God which would fulfil that function; equally he turns to thoughts of the women in his life hoping they will fulfil the same function. As he pictures ‘Maureen. his memory fixes on something else. Instead of seeing her only in relation to himself. he looks carefully and notices that her hat matches her chessmen. Had she done that on purpose? For the first time. Maureen has an independent existence. The other thing that Bruno must see is other people. But this is not an easy task. His mind races. I am at the centre of the great orb of my life. thought Bruno. until some blind hand snaps the thread. I have lived for nearly ninety years and I know nothing. . . .And if there is some- thing that matters now at the end it must be the only thing that matters. . . .It looks as if it would have been easy to be kind and good since it is so obvious now that nothing else matters at all. But of course then one was inside the dream. . . . He had loved only a few people and loved them so badly. so selfishly. . . .Was it only in the presence of death that one could see so clearly what love ought to be like? (BD. 30#) Bruno understands finally in the face of "this presence" that his wife had not wanted to curse him at the end. she had wanted to forgive him. He understands that what death has to teach is how he ought to have lived his life. This is. however. an incommunicable vision. His mind has raced through these thoughts: it has spanned years of memories in order to come to its conclusion. 148 But his knowledge remains locked within himself. Bruno's audible words during this time make no sense if removed from the context of his thought patterns. They are nonsense in the double-edged Kierkegaardian definition and as such incomprehensible to anyone else. They bespeak a direct confrontation with a spiritual fact. At this point. at the novel's conclusion and after Bruno's last words. Murdoch sinks the reader into the present tense. confronting us with the image of Bruno's old dressing gown. In the novel's beginning. Murdoch writes. "The dressing gown had moved forward toward him and was standing at the foot of the bed." This is not a clumsy metaphor but a reminder of an earlier action. that of Bruno putting on the dressing gown. it was quite easy. really. The left hand held the bed post while the right lifted down the dressing gown and with the same movement slid itself a little into the right sleeve. The right hand lifted on high. the sleeve runs down the arm. Then the right hand rests flat against the door a little above shoulder height. while the left leaves the bed post and darts into the left arm hole. (BD. 37) This act is the single instance in the novel of Bruno existing in the present. The other person presented in this manner is Nigel. whose entire being is echoed in Bruno's action. Murdoch attempts to write into her language the body of death as it is faced by one man. Its mystery. one that somehow culminates in the fusion of the particular and the universal, is gestured toward by the image of the dressing gown. In the action of putting 149 it on. there is no self-pity, resentment. fantasy. or despair; there is only the intense concentration of the consciousness to complete the act. So it is that the virt- uous life consists not in any great moment of forgiveness or reconciliation but in the conscious momentary exercise of discrete tasks. Man. who is bound by time. is constrained to treat each moment as if it were his last. Death as the extinction of consciousness is pre-figured by the passing of every moment. Life. then. becomes not a future of unlimited possibility but an already accomplished series of actions. "Seen from the point of view of death. the product of the corpse is .life."20 is one of Benjamin's axioms. Its introduction at this point serves to remind that as his death's-head was transformed into an angel's countenance. it was done .so within the limitation of baroque allegory. Certainly the critic Benjamin was skeptical about such a transforma- tion. Just so is Murdoch skeptical about the aspirations of her characters. For she affords them no angel's countenance. no promise of access into that reality. Death is the decisive act. after which "There was no getting anything up off the floor.” (BD. 37) To have knowledge of this cessation should bring energy to life as its scarcity is underscored. For Bruno this knowledge comes too late: so it is that any hope for its fruition rests with Diana. However. she twists away from the pain that death brings. not knowing 150 if she will be "utterly changed by it" or simply forget it. This is a true ambiguity. one that inheres in all allegorical structures. Only the symbol pretends a full explanation; allegory admits its limitations. Death cannot teach: it cannot explain. It is a transition and what it transposes to cannot be known. Thus. Murdoch's hesitation to name the meaning of death is a recOgnition ‘ of this ambiguity. To say that death is a transformation or-a struggle or punishment or the wages of sin is not to articulate its meaning but rather to state a "reading" of the rune of death. There can be no explanation. There can only be intimations from one who has earned the right to speak. Bruno is such an one. as is Diana. They are not mouthing philosophies. up-rooted from someone's life. but come as witnesses from the face of death. Thus. when Bruno claims that death means living a good life it comes to the reader with the force of a lived experience. as when Diana claims. "Love is death." She means that self must die in order to love properly. A final note: it is the thought of death that instructs not the act. This brings to the fore the incontestible fact that death is non-deceptive. Because of the finality of its action. because of its equal certainty. placing men in a position from which to contemplate its meaning allows the author to display her own most deeply held beliefs. For Murdoch that is the absolute particularity of each person and each situation. It is also the necessity for 151 that person to attempt to say himself. This isn't a facile sort of dream story but a real attempt to see the configurations of a particular self over and against the configuration of the other. The resulting outline is distinct yet influenced by that other. That is. the fact that death comes to all is not to be seen as a comfortable vat in which to fall but as a stone on which to inscribe the actualities of a life. The intricate movements of the three novels examined demand that each be read for its own sake.. The interpene- tration.between the centrifugal and centripetal forces make each a unique presentation of differing subjects. Murdoch's commitment to the particular and her distrust of the general cause her to force her readers to see each novel as an entity. Her commitment to allegory equally forces dintinctive understandings. For these novels come to the reader as other persons come to the novels' main characters--runes on which the imagination works but equally runes that exist with their own meanings. Certain subjects offer themselves as allegorical structures capable of articulating the meaning of life. Chapter four will continue the search. NOTES 1Iris Murdoch. "Mass. Might. and Myth." Spectator 209 (September 7. 1962): 337. 2Ibid. 3Benjamin. Origin. p. 176. “Murdoch. "Revisited." p. 263. 5Murdoch. Sovereignty, p. 26. 6Benjamin. Origin. p. 36. 7Murdoch. "Revisited." p. 256. 8Benjamin, Origin. p. 28. 9This concept is found in.Murdoch's Sovereignty, p. 87; and her Fire. p. 86. It is also found in W.K. Rose. "Iris Murdoch. Informally," London Magazine 8 (June. 1969): 72. 10Murdoch. Fire. p. 12. 11Kenneth Allsop. The Anggy Decade (British Book Centre: 12Kermode. "House." p. 65 13Byatt.p. 73; Gerstenberger,p. 32; James Hall. Egg lunatic Giant in thg Drawin Room (Bloomington: Indiana University Press. 19 . p. 191: Stephen Wall. ”The bell in Egg Bell." Essays in Criticism 13 (1963): 265; and George Whiteside. "The Novels of Iris Murdoch." Studies in Modern Fiction 7 (Spring. 1964): 37. 1I'l'Murdoch. "Revisited," p. 264. 15Benjamin. Origin. p. 184. 161bid., p. 176. 17Murdoch. "Darkness.” p. 49. 18This concept permeates Murdoch's work: Sovereiggty. p. 8h; "The Sublime and The Good." p. pp. 44— 3 "Revis1ted." p. 2 7. 152 153 19Martin Heinecken. The Moment Before God (Philadel- phia: Muhlenberg Press. 1936), p. 71. 20Benjamin. Origin. p. 218. Chapter IV Allegorical Structure in Representative Works: Part Two If we refuse to yield to the ordinary temptations of treating Iris Murdoch's works as traditional allegories. the result is a larger picture of her structures as post- modern allegories. These structures maintain a world with sharp corners and distinctive people. The particular- ities of their lives stand in vivid relief. And once the reader has become acquainted with Hugo Belfounder. or Michael Meade. or Bruno Greensleeves. it is impossible to imagine them differently. A sense of their uniqueness pervades each of the novels: and whether we are engaged in contemplating what it would have been like to have over-heard the direct conversations between Hugo and Jake. or meditating on Michael's final assertion that the fact of the Mass remains in his life. or relunctantly following Bruno into the exiguousness of last things. the knowledge that they unalterably exist remains. It also remains that partial knowledge of them acts as a spring-board to truly see their variety of personality and contexts. In this fourth chapter it is my intention to demonstrate that Murdoch's allegorical structures are necessarily unwilling to give into closure. Her opinions on the subject are well-known as is their base in the paradoxical 1 relationship between closure and openness. This is a 154 155 true paradox. not a seeming one. Life is fundamentally a "jumble": and while man's propensity toward form is also fundamental. it can never be known completely. Therefore. the knowledge that man can expect to gain is partial and subject to illusion. so that to pretend to completion results in distortion. _The three novels examined in chapter three exhibited several structures for knowledge. versions of experience which might result in understanding. In EEQE£.£E§ 333. art offers Jake that possibility: in Egg 221;. a disciplined emptying of self offers Michael another avenue: and in Bruno's Qgggm. a direct confrontation with death offers yet another avenue. Each of these is qualified by Murdoch. so that ease of approach is frus- trated. However. the possibility of an avenue toward truth is retained. This fourth chapter will concentrate on three of Murdoch's later works: 22£.§l§25 Prince. Nugg gag Soldiers. and Egg Philosopher's 2322;.. I will demonstrate that Murdoch's increasing emphasis on the lack of closure in life reflects allegory's position on the nature of knowledge and the nature of man. The earlier versions of experience which might have seemed to lead to know- ledge is here rescinded in favor of something more ambiguous. This is not pessimisn but a concentration on the stringencies of mortal existence. Egg.§lggk Prince is ostensibly a study of the love affair between Bradley Pearson and Julian Baffin. Once more. we will begin with the first paragraph. However, 156 here at the very outset of the story an interesting phenomenon occurs. one that already resists closure. There are three possibilities offered for a first paragraph: and within these there are other starting points suggested. so that the ability to point to an absolute beginning is wrested from the reader. He is. instead. allowed to see some of the contingencies of authorial decision in establishing a beginning. The first paragraph in the book's arrangement is written by the editor of Bradley Pearson's work. P. Loxias: I am in more than one way responsible for the work that follows. The author of it. my friend Bradley Pearson. has placed the arrangements for publication in my hands. In this humble mechanical sense it is through my agency that these pages now reach the public. I am also the "dear friend" (and such) who is referred to and at times addressed in the book. I am not however an actor in the drama which Pearson recounts. My friendship with Bradley Pearson dates from a time in our lives posterior to the events here narrated. This has been a time of tribulation when we needed and happily found in each other the blessings of friendship. I can say indeed with confidence that were it not for the encouragement and sympathy which I was able to give to Bradley. this story would probably have remained untold. Those who cry out the truth to an indifferent world too often weary. fall silent or come to doubt their own wit. Without my help this could have been so with Bradley Pearson. He needed someone to be- lieve him and someone to believe in him. He found me. his alter Egg. at the time needful. (BP. ix) The exact structure of the relationship between Loxias and Pearson is not explained. nor are Loxias' credentials as an editor displayed: rather the feeling that exists between the two men is emphasized. They are close friends and Loxias claims that without his friendship Pearson could not have written the story. This emphasizes an 157 emotion that has less to do with the author's feeling toward the work or himself than with an emotion toward another human being. There is. then. a connection ten- uously established between art and the emotion of love: it is love that will facilitate the creation of art. This connection will be made repeatedly throughout the novel finally accruing to itself the weight of an actuality. Further. there is an intricate relationship between time and art that is suggested. The events that comprise the "story" of the love affair cannot be seen as an object until their sequence is complete. That is. the beginning. the middle. and the end cannot be known until all three have had time to come into existence. Moreover. once that has happened. the person emerging at the end of the sequence is different from the one who began. There is a distorting action of memory that becomes bound to both the other person and the workings of language. The effect that such a distortion has on the story is devastating-- nothing is truth. or. conversely. everything is true. The second "first" paragraph is written by Bradley Pearson and begins his forward. Although several years have now passed since the events recorded in this fable. I shall in telling it adopt the modern technique of narration. allowing the narrating consciousness to pass like a light 5 along its series of present moments. aware of the past. unaware of what is to come. I shall. that is. inhabit my past self and. for the ordinary purposes of story-telling. speak only with the apprehensions of that time. a time in many ways so different from the present. . . .A work of art is as good as its creator. It cannot be more so. Nor. such as he in 158 this case is. can it be less. The virtues have secret names: they are. so difficult of access. secret things. Everything that is worthy is secret. I will not attempt to describe or name that which I have learnt within the disciplined simplicity of my life as it has latterly been lived. I hope that I am a wiser and more charitable man now than I was then--I am certainly a happier man--and that the light of wisdom falling upon a fool can reveal. together with folly. the austere outline of truth. (BP. 11) The first sentence establishes the problem of distortion. Art has a tendency to lie. to falsify the truth in order to present a complete form to its beholder. For Bradley's juxtaposition of the terms events and fable give evidence of the tendency of art to be false. The events that ‘ Bradley mentions are discrete happenings. a jumble of actions whose impetuses and motives remain hidden. The fable to which Bradly refers is the body of the story that follows his forward. and the word itself conveys the fictitious nature of the art object that follows. The word fable means even more than story or tale a fictitious composition whose structure is intended to perform simultaneously a real action and point to an abstract meaning. This sounds suspiciously close to traditional allegory. and it will be the point of this explication to keep the distinction between traditional and post-modern allegory plain. Further. Bradley's Jamesian explanation of the story's formal approach is an extension of the definition of fable. This story is his and he will tell it as he wishes. Thus. he establishes his authority over the 159 events. and however much he promises to be impartial in their presentation the impossibility of that task remains paramount in the reader's mind. To so promise that he will narrate the beginning of the story with the same mind as he had at the beginning of the events is simply not a promise he can keep. Time has taken his earlier innocence. and the new knowledge that he has cannot keep itself from influencing his present story- telling. Bradley's claim is far from innocent. Like Jake before him. he sits in the power position. Finally. Bradley's assertion that "everything that is worthy is secret" holds the key to his aesthetic position. He believes that not only is it impossible to say truth. but that_it is also not a proper role for the artist. That is. knowledge of ultimate things is so esoteric that access is managed only by steady contem- plation that may or may not be rewarded with a Platonic understanding of reality. Bradley claims knowledge that literally cannot be said: its very nature denies access. So. at the very beginning. we are confronted with an aesthetic and philological antimony: whereas Bradley's viewpoint resembles the symbolist tradition with its emphasis on the ineffability of the word. Murdoch herself consistently upholds that tradition which would insist upon the linguistic essence of truth. Thus. there is a strong oppositional pull between the author and her character. a pull that will take complicated turns. 160 Why. then. does Bradley bother to write an account of the events at all. His own words. "that the light of wisdom falling upon a fool can reveal. . .the austere outline of truth." give a certain clue. Here is an attitude toward truth that is not inconsistent with his stated aesthetic. Bradley believes truth to be wholly other than himself. something whose visual quality is all that can be known of it. Bradley's predicament is that his outline consists of words not brush strokes or notes. so that the picture he is painting is comprised of words. How he deals with such a deeply divisive tool will be the meat of the book. The third "first" paragraph is also written by Bradley and begins the story proper. It might be most dramatically effective to begin the tale at the moment when Arnold Baffin rang me up and said. "Bradley. could you come round here. please. I think that I have just killed my wife." A deeper pattern however suggests Francis Marloe as the first speaker. the age or housemaid (these images would appeal to him who. some half an hour before Arnold's momentous telephone call. initiates the action. For the news which Francis brought me forms the frame. or counterpoint. or outward packag- ing of what happened then and later in the drama of Arnold Baffin. There are indeed many places where I could start. I might start with Rachael's tears. or Priscilla's. There is much shedding of tears in this story. In a complex explanation any order may seem arbitrary. Where after all does anything begin? That three of the starting points I have mentioned were causally independent of each other suggests speculations. doubtless of the most irrational kind. upon the mystery of human fate. (BP. 22) To follow Bradley through the various choices of a proper beginning is to follow a man searching for structures of meaning. His search for a pattern is the action of 161 a man wanting to find the order for that sequence. As he thinks about possible patterns. the refusal of the discrete events to form their own order suggests to him that any order he gives will be a devised one. However, Bradley ignores this subject and settles on Arnold's phone call as the starting point. Bradley is looking as a good symbolist for the natural beginning: his inability to find it raises interesting problems. Murdoch says that a good question to ask an author is what he fears.2 And that question is particularly apt in this situation. What does Bradley Pearson fear? The answer is simply that he is afraid of non-order. not just dis—order. that would suggest that a discovery would result in order. He fears that no order exists. that the world is fundamentally irrational. Throughout his story-telling. he turns from the implications of an irrational universe. Much as Pythagorus' society kept silent on the subject of irrational numbers. so Bradley will remain silent on the irrational nature of the universe. Whether or not he can maintain that silence will mark in a reverse fashion his belief in the unsayable nature of truth. By keeping silent about the irrational. . Bradley will be upholding his aesthetic principle while at the same time confirming what he fears. However. these are observations that will be best dealt with later. The object now must be to suggest the particulars of the world presented in The Black Prince. Since the point 162 of view is so determinably first person. the particular that ought to be considered first is Bradley himself. There are many facts about his life that he willingly relates. any of which could be pursued for the length of a novel. For instance. his background as a shop- keeper's son is brought up repeatedly. so that his movement from lower class to middle class could have been traced. It isn't though. and only a recurring dream gives evidence of his climb. Or the story could have centered on his career. describing not only his adequate rise to middle management but also the British civil system. It doesn't though..and only passing references are made to his professional life. Or the story could have revolved around his life-long ambition to be a writer. Again it doesn't. and writing is only mentioned as some- thing he wants to do. Or the story could have followed his marriage to Christian. tracing its beginning and following it to its demise. It doesn't though. and only bits and pieces of their relationship surfaces. The main story-line does not follow any of these possibilities. Bradley elects not to include them. Rather the facet of his personality that he chooses to display is his irrational self. relating in agonizing detail his love affair with Julian. His structure. then. implicitly recognizes the irrational nature of the universe. The necessity of impos- ing a form becomes Bradley's major enterprise. Since falling in love figures heavily in Murdoch's aesthetic theory, tracing its movement will illuminate 163 one aspect of the pull between Bradley and her. Bradley's ”fall" is first of all a totally irrational act. There is no reason for him to be attracted to Julian: indeed. there is every reason not to be. He is after all a confirmed bachelor. moving through his routine with precision. Nor is Bradley a sensual man as his early rejection of Rachel's advances demonstrates. .So it is with surprise that Bradley finds himself hopelessly in love. He cannot even trace the origin of the moment and he needs to. For if there is no origin. their love is an accident. .That ' thought frightens Bradley. Although he has chosen to display his irrational side. he will not yet reckon with that choice and so contents himself with the accomplished fact. The most outstanding aspect of his love is its earth- shaking quality: . . .nothing really prepared me for this blow. And it was a plgg. I was felled by it physically. I felt as if my stomach had been shot away. leaving a gaping hole. My knees dissolved. I could not stand up. I shuddered and trembled all over. my teeth shattered . . . .I had become some sort of God. (BP, 211) What sort of god Bradley becomes is the true subject of his love. For falling in love forces that person to a crises point. It is a dangerous cross-roads. one turn will take the person back into himself while the other will take - him outward. Thus. his love may become even more self- involved. concentrating on his own feelings and responses. or he may become less self-involved concentrating on his beloved. 164 It looks in the beginning as if Bradley is going to take the preferred second turn. seeing in Julian "every- thing in the world." (BP. 213) There are other moments.‘ too. when love has that salubrious effect. Bradley refutes his own theoretical position on Shakespeare. "No high theory about Shakespeare is any good. not because he's so divine but because he's so human." (BP. 247) He also promises to re-evaluate Arnold's works and forgives Christian. Even Bradley's physical appearance changes. Nearly every- one tells him that he looks twenty years younger. Indeed. his capacity for looking at others with pity seems endless as does the self-less quality of that gaze seem bottomless. All signs point to a genuine falling in love. However. deceive. What looks like a shock. making one person aware of another. becomes another method for the ego to increase itself.3 Bradley's new view of the world may resemble true love. but his inner thoughts betray a different emphasis. I felt that I was. at every instant. creating Julian and supporting her being with my own. . . How false it is to say that love is blind. I could even judge her. I could even condemn her. . . .I was a god and I was involved with her in some eternal activity of making to be which was of sole and absolute value. (BP. 214) The ego is not easily deflected. Rather it is an organism whose first duty is to protect itself. and whose first action consists of maintaining its superiority. However. Bradley is not a naive person. His nearly 165 sixty years have taught him some things about himself. When he analyzes his falling in love. he recognizes his false loss of self. He compares his action with the action of worshipping God and finds his weakness. A mystic's heaven on earth must be just such an endless contemplation of God. Only God has (or would have if He existed) characteristics at least not totally inimical to the continuance of the pleasures of adoration. . . .He is changeless. To remain thus posed in the worship of a human being is. from both sides of the relationship. a much more precarious matter. . . . (BP. 250) The "precarious" nature lies in the moving quality of human life as much as it does in the less than perfect human. It also lies in the ego's ability to take from the object of adoration what it needs for survivial. In another novel Henry and Cato. Murdoch deals with this subtle facet of the ego. There. Cato. whose sole object in life is the constant adoration of God. finds that his worship is not really fixed on God but on himself. He has been captivated by the picture of his worshipping God. So it is in this situation with Bradley. he is seduced by the picture of his falling in love and what it will do for him. I had not forgotten that I was soon going to start writing the greatest book of my life. I knew that the black Eros which had felled me was consubstantial with another and secret god. (BP. 242) The question becomes what Julian can do for him. and this betrays the subjective nature of his love. It also casts doubts on its sponteneity. Consider his state of mind before meeting Julian: 166 The trouble was that the dark blaze. whose absence I had deplored in Arnold's work. was absent here as well. I could not fire and fuse these thoughts. these people. into a whole thing. . . .However. I felt. as we argfists can feel. the proximity of enlightenment. BP, Bradley is expecting a life-changing event: in fact he needs such an event to put his artistic powers in motion. What Bradley will ultimately find is that his ego has taken from Julian what it needs to survive. The structure of that relationship is a symbolic one: Bradley has completed both sides of the relationship. What Bradley finds now is a more locally understood falseness. seen best in his treatment of others. Three examples will Rachel Baffin. Priscilla. and Julian herself. Rachel. early in the novel. asks for Bradley's help and is ignored. She and her husband have had a serious quarrel: "I shall never forgive him. Be my witness now. I shall never forgive him. Never. never. never. Not if he were to kneel at my feet for twenty years. A woman does not forgive this ever. She won't save a man at the end. If he were drowning. I'd watch! . . . and I won't forgive you either for having seen me like this with my face bruised to pieces and heard me talk horribly like this. (BP. 41) The glimpse that these words give of Rachel's desperation will climax in the novel's conclusion. For now. although Bradley hears the words. he refuses their meaning. keeping Rachel and her problems at a distance. He does agree to be her friend but forgets her when he falls in love with Julian. Any plea that she makes for further friendship. any reminder of his pledge to stand beside her. any hint 167 of the awful feelings running through her mind is squelched. Bradley does not even offer her a sympathetic ear. The rejection of Rachel is paralled by Bradley's treatment of his sister. Priscilla. too. comes to Bradley with serious problems. She is leaving her husband. an act which causes depression. However. Bradley's thought is the problem that Priscilla causes him. She asks for understanding. for sympathy. for attention and is rejected. Bradley pushes his sister from him. not only refusing to listen but also passing her off to anyone else. Whenever Priscilla raises an idea to help herself. Bradley under- mines her. continually causing Priscilla to face her age. her economic status. and her ugliness. He simply refuses her any claim on his life. Nowhere is this more clearly seen than in Bradley's reaction to her death. While he and Julian are in the country-side. he receives news of Priscilla's suicide. His reaction. ”I can't come now. . . . I can't-~come--now. Get on with with arrangments--get hold of Roger Saxe. . . .I'll come when I can." (BP. 333) is selfish. He understands what has happened: he doesn't understand what claim it makes. Finally. his relationship with Julian is built on falseness. Repeatedly Julian questions Bradley. When he tells her that he fell in love while they were discus- sing Shakespeare. she replies. "Only tggg! Bradley. you terrify me. Honestly I think you should think twice 168 about this. Aren't you just acting out of some momentary impulse?" (BP. 283) Or at another point, she says. "You don't seem to know me at all. Are you sure its gg you love?” (BP. 272) Or her most penetrating observation. Your love must be very-—what's the word-~solipsistic if you don't even imagine or speculate what I might feel."(BP, 274) Bradley's lies and insensitivity would argue that indeed he doesn't love Julian. They do not have an equal relationship. but one that Bradley cir- cumscribes. It is his decision how much and what to tell Julian. Her only task is to accept all that he says. One of the major premises that undergirds Murdoch's definition of art is its ethical nature.“ True art is synonomous with the Good and will at all times reflect the outlines of just behaviour. This behaviour takes two directions: one in actions toward others and the other in treatment of events. The first direction dictates that a ‘ true falling in love is characterized by modesty. chastity. and respect. There is no desire for possession. no place given to the self. The analogy is then extended to art. It too is treated with modesty. chastity. and respect. This is not a chance analogy. rather there is a Platonic line of contiguity between physical love and love of the divine. The purifying of the self from human relationships is then seen as a physical picture of the relationship between art and man. Seen from this perspective, it is not too strong to insist that Bradley's indifference to 169 others. his insistence that they fit his "script" is the action of a false artist. one who is not looking for the outlines of reality but is rather creating false wholes that will sustain his own viewpoint. The making of false wholes is a temptation that the author resists. for she extends her narration through six end-pieces. It has been suggested that these endings offer a demonstration of the author's discomfort with the first person narrative.5 I would like to suggest that they display the author's conviction that art can lie. that it "is a false presence and a false present."6 In 22$.ElE2 gag Egg §gn. Murdoch attaches great weight to Plato's suspicion of artistic form. his conviction that art by making wholes pretends that the distance between appearance and reality does not exist. And in Egg Biggg Prince there is a working out of this conviction. Each of the end pieces offers to the reader an "interpretation" of the story that has just been told. Not only do they serve to describe the weakness of art. they also stand as commentary on the allegorical structure of the novel. Bradley's story is a runs and needs an allegorist to assign it a meaning. Those meanings are as different as the people writing them. The first written by Bradley describes the events occurring after a phone call from Rachel. This phone call parallels Arnold's call at the story's beginning with the exception that Arnold is lying on the floor dead. 170 Through a series of accidents Bradley is accused of murdering Arnold. At first. he is unwilling to name Rachel as the killer and then later is unable to do so. No one believes his story. ”The court saw me. . .as a fantastical man." (BP. 401) Next is a set of end-pieces placed under the heading "Four Postscripts by Dramatis Personae." However. they are anything but fictitious persons from Bradley's world. nor are they persons from the author's world. They are people in their own right demanding attention. Christian begins her postscript with a pattern of qualification. a type of self-defense that will be seen in all the post- scripts. "the whole book seems to me to be sort of off key." (BP. 406) Christian argues that Bradley did kill Arnold. although excusing him. She thinks him mad and offers his "rather creepy" postscript and his attachment to his “teacher" in prison as evidence. She does exist apart from Bradley and will insist that she be seen in that light. Lest that point be missed. there is a final shock that secures Christian's independence. Her signature is Christian.ngtbourne. Immediately the reader's mind wonders at the circumstances that brought Christian and Bradley's office-mate together. Bradley is right when he says. ”An inch away from the world one is accustomed to there are other worlds in which one is a complete stranger." (BP. 392) The next postscript is written by Francis Marloe. It is a parody of the psychological world. and its use 171 of various theories and patterns of behaviour to explain the individual. Francis names Bradley a classic case of the "Oedipus Complex.” To say so is perhaps banal. Most men love their mothers and hate their fathers. Many men. because this is so. hate and fear all women in adult life. (Adored mama is never alas forgiven for going to bed with detested papa!) Such was the case with Bradley. (BP. 411) Francis explains all contingencies and even removes P. Loxias. claiming that he is only Bradley in disguise: "The narcissism of the deviant eats up all other characters and will tolerate only one: himself." (BP. 415) This is in reality what Francis has "done" to Bradley. He has eaten him alive. subsuming his uniqueness under theoretical umbrellas. Again, there is a final strike that under-‘ scores this point. A subscription list for my forthcoming work Bradley Pearson. The Paranoiac From the Paper Shop. is now open c7o the publisher. letters to my consultin rooms will be forwarded from the same address. (BP.16) The newly self—proclaimed "Psychological Consultant" has indeed feasted on Bradley. While Rachel's postscript presents a subtler feasting. it is. nonetheless. a voracious act. Rachel appropriates each of Bradley's assertions and dismantles them. For instance. Bradley may describe himself as "ironical and sardonic and restrained and idealistic." but he is in reality. "quite without dignity. . .absurd. . .a bore." (BP. 419) His love interests are all "dreams" that he has concocted to cover the thinness of his life. This 172 consistent deflection effectively sets her opinion against him. thus placing Bradley's story in doubt. Since she continues to accuse Bradley of murdering her husband. the reader is forced to choose sides. In Julian's postscript the fact of Arnold's death is the fundamental occurrence. All else is theory. which is not to suggest that Julian views everything through theoretical lenses. Indeed. she refutes some of her mother's "facts" against Bradley. Rather. she is aware of the workings of her own mind. Although she does not refute the claims that Bradley makes. she doubts their truthfulness from her perspective. 8 A letter. for instance. is quoted. Did I write this letter (Did he keep it?) It seems inconceivable. And the things that I said. (Supposedly.) Surely. they are the invention of another mind. Sometimes the reactions of the child are too childish. (BP. 424) Julian also uses this opportunity to present her aesthetic and restates Bradley's artistic problem: "Art is secret secret secret. . . .Art is public public public.” (BP. 425) Her opposition. like Bradley's. rests on a belief in the ego's ability to discover reality. Julian argues that. "The worshipping attitude concentrates on self. The worshipper kneels as Narcissis kneels to gaze into the water." (BP. 427) However. her position is successfully attacked by its own outcome in Bradley's life. He doesn't find reality at the end of his affair with Julian. he finds that most of the premises he has acted from are false. The opposition of silence and words leads to the final postscript written by P. Loxias. He summarizes 173 and exposes the other postscript writers' weaknesses: Mrs. Baffin lies to protect herself. Mrs. Belling to protect Mrs. Baffin. . . .Dr. Marloe. who told the truth at the trial. pusillanimously fails to repeat it now. I am told he has been threatened by Mrs. Baffin's solicitors. . . .Each piece is self-advertisement ranging from the vulgar to the subtle. (BP. 428) Art does lie. Indeed the novel rests on that knowledge. At its beginning Bradley meditates on the problem: How can one describe a human being “justly"? How can one describe oneself? With what an air of false coy humility. with what an assumed confiding simplicity one sets about it: "I am a puritan“ and so on. Faugh! How can these statements not be false? Even "I am tall" has a context. (BP. 84) How can the limitations of the subjective be overcome? A solution can be seen in Bradley and Arnold's opposing aesthetics. Bradley says. "Art comes out of endless restraint and silence." (BP. 51) "It is the condensing and refining of a conception almost to nothing." (BP. 145) Arnold counters with. "If the silence is endless there isn't any art!" (BP. 51) For Bradley silence means cutting himself off from other people in order to look into himself for truth. Restraint becomes an ordering process from within. Arnold. on the other hand. admits the necessity of other people for art to exist. He is not defending their chatter but is locating truth in externals. Nor is he blind to the imperfections of such a position: "I live with an absolutely continuous sense of failure. I am always defeated. always. Every book is the wreck of a perfect idea." (BP. 178) 174 While the two men do hold opposing viewpoints. Bradley's is not as iron-clad as his statements would suggest. For he does tell his story. indicating faith in the power of language. Nor is this faith merely grudgingly given at the novel's end. It has existed throughout the story in the form of Bradley's feelings about letters. I am. I must confess. an obsessive and superstitious letter-writer. . . .I invest letters with magical power. To desiderate something in a letter is. I often irrationally feel. tantamount to bringing it about. A letter is a barrier. a reprieve. a - charm against the world. an almost infallible method of acting at a distance. (And it must be admitted. of passing the buck.) It is a way of bidding time to stop. (BP 64) The most important point here is the primitive power ascribed to written language. It will bring about the writer's wishes just as surely as the words of sacred ssripture will be fulfilled. They both carry the same kind of outlines of reality. Further. the letter exists. it can be handled. it can be seen. Bradley's words best define this fact: "A letter can be endlessly re-read and re-interpreted. it stirs imagination and fantasy. it persists. it is red-hot evidence." (BP. 190) This red- hot evidence has particular truth for Bradley's story. It is the accidental reading of a letter that causes the story's climax. While visiting Bradley. Rachel accidently reads a letter from Arnold in which he declares his love for Christian. After reading this. Rachel says to Bradley. 175 "You don't know what you've done. I shall never never never forgive you." (BP. 373) and runs from his flat. However. the story does not follow her but remains with Bradley. Thus. Rachel's call brings Bradley to a local set of runes. The action is past. Arnold lies dead. his head bashed in with a poker. The scene is described . to the smallest detail. which is the ball of paper that was Arnold's letter to Bradley. Bradley takes the letter and burns it. washes the poker. replaces it. and calls the police. When they arrive they find quite different runes--Bradley's fingerprints on the poker and his bloody footprints throughout the house. The letter that would have established a motive is forever gone. The power of the written word. both to condemn and save. is figured in this final scene. Bradley. who has steadfastly maintained silence stands condemned by that silence. It is at this point that the purpose of Murdoch's structure becomes clear. The drama sets the stage for Bradley's final meditations: and while he would have nothing to meditate on if that drama had not occurred. it is his meditation that brings meaning to the events. His postscript begins with a new sense of the difficulty of expression. But if after reflection and with deliberation one attempts with words to create bridges and to open vistas one soon finds out how puny is one '3 power to describe or connect. (BP. 392) Before the story. Bradley did not feel any of this difficulty: now he understands some of the frustrations 176 that Arnold expressed to him earlier. The "bridges" that will "open vistas" are seen now not as obvious and self- explanatory but as hidden and meaningless from one person to the next. In a series of dialogues with P. Loxias (Indeed. his description raises them to Socratic exercises in the . invention of wisdom.). Bradley further meditates on the difficulty: About these things. my dear fellow. we in our seclusion have often spoken. in our times of quiet- ness together. with words. whose meaning glowed out of an ineffable understanding. like flames upon dark water. So friends. so spirits. ultimately con- verse. It was for this that Plato. in his wisdom. forbade the artists. Socrates wrote nothing. neither did Christ. Almost all speech which is not illumined is a deformation of the truth. And yet: I am writing these words and others whom I do not know will read them. With_and by this paradox I have lived. dear friend. in our sequestered peace. (BP. 403) However. Bradley can not yet agree to the word's power. He tries several explanations of Arnold's death: "said various things. changed my mind. told the truth. then lied. then broke down. was impassive. then devious. then abject." (BP. 393) and learns that none works. Indeed. the only recourse he has is to write down the events and assign their structure meaning. Bradley's story gives unity to a series of events. that can. of course. be discarded as the postscripts give evidence. But his story does exist in the manner of the red-hot letter. It is his attempt to outline truth during which he finds. 177 My love for Julian-had somehow brought about this death. . . .At some point in a black vision I appre- hended the future. I saw this book. which I have written. I saw my dearest friend P.L.. I saw myself 'a new man. altered out of recognition. . . .She somehow was and is the book. the story of herself. . . .It is my gift to her and my final possession of her. From this embrace she can never now escape. (BP. 400) Notice that Bradley clings to a sense of destiny about his love affair. a clinging that betrays his desire to ‘ continue to work his will on events. While Bradley does understand that love requires a movement outside self. he hesitates to take the final step. That would mean divesting himself of all claims. He would have to admit the chance that brought Julian into his life. Bradley clings to the fated feeling he has for the events.unwilling to release his hold on them. He is still trying to possess them with words as he possessed Julian. He also continues to yearn for the "brink of silence. . . where articulate forms negate themselves and vanish into ecstasy. Whether words can travel that path. through truth. absurdity. simplicity to silence I do not know. . . . (BP. 404) Bradley may yearn for the remainder of his life. but he has learned something of the true paradox of silence and words. For as much as he desires the _ whole of a symbolic silence. he desires to remember the "real being of those who have figured as my characters." (BP. 404) To do that will cost him the comfort of a total vision. The "random detail of her [Priscilhg wretchedness" (BP. 404) and the reality of Julian. ‘ the one who "Eternally. . .escape [s] my embrace." (BP. 404) 178 make a total submersion of them into his mind impossible. The last glimpse of Bradley is a report by Loxias. and it is surely a just ending that Bradley be turned into a rune. Loxias describes Bradley's death. and if the description can be trusted. then we see that Bradley's approach to death. as Bruno's before him. allows him to see finally all objects in their uniqueness. As Bradley is dying he asks to be told the end of the opera Rosenkavalier (which mirrors his and Julian's relationship). Loxias tells Bradley that Octavian leaves the Marschallin and finds a lover his own age. Bradley responds. "Well. that was right. wasn't it?” (BP. 431) Facing death. he relinquishes all possessive rights to Julian. In so doing he maintains his own individuality for at the end of Loxias' postscript there is this observation: And Bradley existed. Here upon the desk as I write. there stands the little bronze of the buffalo lady. . Also a gilt snuff-box inscribed A Friend'g Gigi. And. Bradley Pearson's stor . which I made him tell. re- mains too. . . . (BP. 432) The discrete. tangible runes act as testimony to their function as art objects. They can with language be explored and partially understood but never wholly known. Art created by humans should remind. as it did Bradley. 7 that "We are creatures of a day. nothing much. We do not understand ourselves. we lack reality. . . ."7 There is no escape from subjectivity. . However. it should also remind that regardless of art's shortcomings and its tricks. "Art tells the only 179 truth that ultimately matters. . . .And after art there is. let me assure you all, nothing.” (BP. 432) This is truly the allegorical attitude that informs Murdoch's structure. The fact that the structure endlessly questions its own right of existence. endlessly mocks its own pretensions to wholeness. endlessly qualifies its own insights. does not preclude its function of illuminating for its reader that. "The careful responsible skillful use of words is our highest instrument of thought and one of our highest modes of being. . . ."8 It does. however. erect a less optimistic set of parameters for art than does ggggg thg‘flgt. At the close of that novel. Jake was looking toward his artistic en- deavor as a positive step. one that held the promise of fulfillment and even justification for life. While his optimism may be qualified by his character. the claims made for art are unqualified. T g Bigggqggigge contains no such optimism. On the contrary. not only does the structure qualify the meaning of success. it also limits expectations. Bradley admits that his story is faulty. There are no claims to a grand creation only a humble doing of the thing itself. While Jake proceeds under an illusion. Bradley has thrown off all illusions and claims nothing. His telling becomes not Jake's positive action but a quiet doing of the only thing he can. This requires an act of faith on the writer's part that only allegory 180 can satisfy. For it is only allegory that promises even partial truth. A determination to do what can be done can also be seen as the fundamental purpose of the fifth novel to be examined. Nuns and Soldiers. It is ostensibly a dual story of Anne Cavidge's quest for God and an account of Gertrude and Tim's love affair. I would like to suggest that these stories sketch Iris Murdoch's contrasting views of the individual: one. a reclamation of the contemplative's worth. and the other. an indictment of the actioneoriented personality. All this anticipates the larger purposes of the book. For now the task is to introduce the world that the novel displays. "Wittgenstein--" "Yes?" said the Count. The dying man shifted on the bed. rolling his head rhythmically to and fro in a way that had become habitual only in the last few days. Pain? The Count was standing at the window. He never sat down now in Guy's presence. He had been more familiar once. though Guy had always been a sort of king in his life: his model. his teacher. his best friend. his standard. his judge: but most especially some- thing royal. Now another and a greater king was present in the room. (NS. 1) There are three minds shown in this opening interchange: the Count. Guy. and the author. each confronting death. Although not much is said. the foundation for their several personalities and their interactions is laid. Guy calls to his mind the philosopher Wittgenstein. and before critics scatter in all directions establishing connective links between his philosophy and the novel.9 it should be pointed out that Guy names Wittgenstein in 181 order to castigate his limitations. Later in the scene. Guy uses the phrases. "the whole of logical space" and "the upper side of the cube." (NS. 2) and the incoherence of the language seems to the Count and to Gertrude evidence of his deterioration. Few of Guy's utterances as he is dying come to the level of articulation or explanation as he acknowledges. "Our worlds wax and wane with a difference. We belong to different tribes." (NS. 5) The Count's reaction is especially dis-heartened. He places Guy in a superior role. which his own needs require. thus actually hindering him from understanding. He fears Guy's last words as they may reveal something unpleasant. He shies away from any close relationship. blaming Guy's incoherent language on pain-killing chemicals. The Count wants to behave ”correctly" until the end." He wants to maintain his own self and so turns his face from his friend. The author's mind is more covertly revealed. It displays itself in one instance: the first description of Guy. His restless demeanor and his utterances are as inexplicable to the author as they are to the Count. While the Count blames medicine. the author blames pain. An author who admits no knowledge of a character's motives is not refusing the rights of creation. nor is she creating an illusionary independence. She is insisting that her own knowledge of human character is partial. It is an explicit acknowledgment that there is no point at which 182 all motivations and connections can be made plain. A fully coherent shared world of fact among humans simply does not exist. It is essential. therefore. when discussing Murdoch's fictions to speak as much of structure as of character and the way in which the relationship between characters becomes structural. The relationship of parts to the whole will come to be seen as a statement of allegorical intention. The allegorist interprets the fact and assigns their arrangement a meaning. A good example occurs shortly after Guy's death. Gertrude. Anne. Manfred and the Count are having cocktails. The participants exchange pleasantries. composing a picture of solicitous friendship. However. Murdoch's excursion into their respective minds reveals something quite different. Gertrude is occupied in thinking of her earlier meeting with Tim Reede and castigating herself for not conducting it better. The Count is thinking about his love for Gertrude. convincing himself that he must keep it quiet. Anne is thinking about the approaching Easter season. wishing to be alone in order to worship. Murdoch returns to Gertrude's mind showing its thoughts'of the Count and his love for her. Believing the others in the group are thinking about her, too. that "They watch me for signs and they think I am better but I am not." (NS. 144). she sadly remembers the reason for their supposed watching. All these distinctive thought patterns demonstrate that 183 neither physical proximity nor a common event insure common meaning. This structure of the separateness of minds is used again in a meeting between Tim and Gertrude. This meeting is not a social situation but one of lovers. "Yes. yes. yes." said Tim. ”We keep saying it. and it's true. But. . .so. . .?" Tim was thinking. we do love each other. there's no doubt about that thank God. but now she's back in London she may decide she just wants a love affair. . . ." "If you just want an affair--do say--tell me now--" "Do you just want a love affair?" "NO . 0' ”Neither do I. I want the long eternal thing.” "Good. I want it too. You were right about that in France. Either this is nothing or it's everything." (NS. 231) It would appear that here is a true interchange. Gertrude and Tim are literally reading each other's thoughts. But this is only momentary and as they look at each other. they think of their own conditions. Tim is worried that Daisy. his mistress of many years. might show up at the studio. Gertrude is worried about the impropriety of her love affair with Tim. This return to self is natural and it is divisive. There is a structure of mis-understanding built that is underscored by a multitude of ineffective relationships. These "missed lives" turn on the question of who loves whom. The Count loves Gertrude who loves Tim who loves both Gertrude and Daisy: Anne loves the Count who loves Gertrude. etc.. and Manfred loves Anne who loves the Count who loves Gertrude. etc. This ambiguity of importance. this mixing of story-lines is seen in the situation of the 183 Count and Tim. In the novel's beginning. it seems that the Count is to be an important character. After all. he is the only friend permitted to see Guy at the end. he is Guy's suggestion for Gertrude's new husband. and the author describes the Count's background and present position at length. He sees himself "as a soldier. but a very ordinary soldier with a soldier's dullness and circum- scribed lot and extremely small chance of glory." (NS. 14) As in The Bell this concept of soldiering is important. For after Guy's death. it is the Count who. . . .helped in the funeral-arrangements. He made a list of Guy's office friends who should be notified. He helped to move the furniture in the flat. He was continually. deferentially. available. But he was not. . .actually necessary. (NS. 116) The Count's soldiering makes possible not the fulfillment of his own needs but-the needs of greater beings. Perhaps. this is why after the lengthy description which builds reader expectation. Murdoch abandons him and replaces him with another "soldier". Tim Reede. Tim describes himself as. sometimes a soldier of fortune. a raffish footloose fellow. a drinker. a wandering cadger. a happy-go lucky figure in a shabby uniform (not of course as an officer) who lives from day to day avoiding un- pleasantness and procuring small fairly innocuous satisfactions. (NS. 77) While the Count's soldiering serves others. Tim's serves himself. And it seems that he is the more selfish of the two. However. when their common goal of consolation emerges. the Count merely succeeds in performing a more sophisticated form of selfishness. 184 Tim is also described at length. His attachment to Daisy and the complicated string of events that led him to Guy are detailed. His involvement with Gertrude is also recounted: their first meeting. their holiday together in France. their love. their break-up. the reunion--all are treated in great detail. In an article entitled. "The Sublime and The Good" Murdoch argues that the human mind is "stunned" by life's particularity. Stunned is the precise adjective that fits Gertrude and Tim's ,story. Its length and un-evenness begets a desire to impose order. to make sense out of the chaotic string of events. However. yielding to this desire always makes the other person into someone false. ~ . . .because we are ourselves sunk in a social whole which we allow uncritically to determine our reactions. or because we see each other exclusively as so determined. Or we may fail to see the individual because we are completely enclosed in a fantasy world of our own into which we try to draw things from outside. not grasping their reality or independence. making them into dream objects of our own. 10 There is a counter motion to this voracrious action—- a love that seeks to see the other person as he is. To practice it will take self-less concentration. The ego will struggle at every turn. for it will not easily give up its control of the mind's energy. But it is Murdoch's contention that the mind can be set in the direction of the other and that something true can be known. There are two characters who represent this outward gaze. Guy and Anne. It is not an accident that proportionally speaking so little space is given to them. Rather. it 185 is an authorial comment on the lack of such activity. In order to see Guy and Anne truly. it is necessary to pay attention to the particularity of their minds. For while I would like to sum up Guy by saying he is Murdoch's example of a "linguistic empiricist" and to sum up Anne by saying she is Murdoch's example of the "good person". those abstractions would have no meaning. What is needed is a specific display of each person: then general observations will be in order. Guy has already been introduced but his personality remains skeletal. He is only seen in three direct conver- sations: with the Count. with Anne. and with Gertrude. The first conversation's fragmentariness is marked by an almost exclusive reliance on ideas. He conjures Wittgenstein. Schopenhauer. Mauthner. Kraus. not as individuals. but as thinkers who tried to outline reality. As he faces death. Guy recognizes that these thinkers were unsuccessful. His religiously held belief in the efficacy of reason is disappearing: his belief that his "thoughts would wander- in infinite space" is illusionary. This particular phrase comes from Paradise ngt and it is spoken by Belial. who Murdoch has elsewhere described as a practicioner of Kant ' s Sublime . . . . .when we confront the awful contingency of nature or of human fate and return into ourselves with a proud shudder of rational thought. How abject we are. and yet our consciousness is of infinite value. 11 It is just this belief in the power of human thought that Guy is losing. He has ordered his life around the power 186 of reason. a fact continually commented on by other characters. For instance. his friendship with the Count is practiced on strictly reasonable terms. Guy took the time to notice the Count and draw him out. However. Guy's friendship has limitations: The Count was a phenomenon. Guy liked phenomena. Guy never asked quite the questions which the Count wanted. . . .he did ask. . .about the Count's child- hood. his parents. his beliefs. And it was not just the precision of the questions which charmed the Count. it was the expectation of the answers. which had to be simple. direct. lucid. truthful. and uttered with a certain calm dignity. This method of.questioning did elicit truth. but with an almost deliberate limitation. as if there were a definate periphery of things which Guy did not want to know. (NS. 14 Guy wishes to know only the Count's rational side. practicing Kant's theory of the harmony possible between creatures of reason. And there is harmony but only on this level. When the Count reveals his passionate. confused or fanatic side to the reader. we feel as if it is a valuable part of him. Guy never allows the Count's emotional side to emerge and uses his strength of will to keep it contained. Equally so are Tim. Sylvia. and Gertrude kept within? rational boundaries. Thus. when Guy faces death and wishes to discuss his feelings with the Count. there is no established path to travel. His attempts to do so are greet- ed with fear. He and the Count do not touch each other. they can not face each other. and now at the end even conversation fails. The Count stays within the confines of the "game" that Guy has taught him so well. 187 The second conversation between Guy and Anne is marked by its accidental nature. There is no reason for them to converse--they aren't friends. Thus. Guy's request to see Anne must be treated strictly as a meeting of minds. Guy's comment. "You will stay until I go. and after too." (NS. 64) is made from this perspective. Anne _is to be his witness. his vehicle of immortality. Thus. when he sets up the game of rationality. it is not sur- prising that Anne plays it. They discuss ideas. defining and describing them as precisely as possible. However. as they are setting the limits. it becomes apparent that they are not conversing as much as they are trying to understand what the other means. In answer to guy's question about her leaving the convent. Anne answers. "I changed my views about religion." To Guy's probing inquiry. "Lost your faith--?” (NS. 65) Anne replies with a more personal view of what she means. While Guy moves the conversation from topic to topic. Anne counters with a deepening process. Although he attempts to elicit abstract definitions and descriptions. Anne forces him to personalize his thought. For instance. when they discuss virtue and vice. Guy says. "We are selectively decent. if we are decent at all. We each have one or two virtues which we cultivate. not much really. . . ." A. "What's yours?” G. "My--? Oh nothing high. Something like accuracy. (NS. 68) His wish to be accurate reflects his belief in the impersonal. but his subsequent comment reflects his growing desire to 188 be personal. "But you asked me if... .when I wanted punishment. . .I wanted it for anything in particular. . . ." (NS. 69) Perhaps. he is willing to personalize the con- versation. That can't be known because Anne is frightened by this turn. While she has been consistently personaliz- ing the conversation. Anne is not ready for any one else's personality to emerge and so blocks Guy by saying. "I think I am tiring you. Gertrude said I musn't stay long!” (NS. 70) Anne has turned the tables on Guy. It is she who refuses the emotional involvement. The third conversation is marked by its formal outlines. It takes place between husband and wife Shortly before his death. Guy's endearments and Gertrude's recognition that "Guy was suddenly present to her. all present. with his whole tenderness. his whole love. his real being." (NS. 94) would seem to belie Guy's unemotional nature. However. his is not a passionate love and this meeting is a paradigm of their married life. Guy speaks to Gertrude in "calm and dull" tones: and while the subject may be passionate. his discussion of it is not. Guy reminds Gertrude of their love for each other: but rather than speaking freely. he exercises his will one final time and draws the 'parameters of her future. This is not a power play but is an attempt to live this last scene by the principles that have guided his life. Guy refuses to face emotions. for they do not lend themselves to control and authority. He turns to a precise 189 existence without contingency that looks to itself for guidance and moves confidently within the world. For this perspective to be valid. several premises must be true: first. that the will is capable of such movement: second. that the outside world consists of objects and facts that can be known: and third. that language is only public language. Each character's reaction to Guy demon- strates the limitations of such a view. The Count would have liked to tell Guy more about himself but was not allowed: Anne felt that Guy wanted to say more than he did: and Gertrude felt a passion that she was not allowed to express. The structure that Guy has appropriated for himself is Kant's man-god. a figure criticized amply by Murdoch. While Guy's viewpoint rests on reason. Anne's rests on contemplation. She had decided to become a nun in order to give "her life for a quiet conscience. A fugitive and cloistered virtue was better than none." (NS. 56) This early decision parallels Guy's wish to live an ordered life. but her method is radically different: She had lived a long time with the practice of prayer. not as a regular intermittent willed routine. but as a total mode of being. She had lived with the passion of Christ. . . .She had lived. with a sweet and natural ease. somehow inside the doctrine of the Trinity. surrounded by the spiritual stream which united Father. Son and Paraclete. (NS. 59) Her method demands that the follower look outside himself for meaning. However. the action. "the narrowing of her will. the widening of His" (NS. 60) does not bring 190 satisfaction. And like the condemnation of false shelter that Milton eschews. Anne leaves the convent. Hers is not a simple crises of faith. For it isn't that she no longer believes the dogma. it is a feeling that the dogma is insufficient. Anne brings this ambivalence with her when she comes to Gertrude. Further. Anne approaches her conversation with Guy with the same ambiguity. Thus. when Guy asks her if she has lost her faith. it is not surprising that she has such trouble forming an answer. Some sense of the utter per- 'sonal quality of her faith must be seen. Guy may believe that careful questioning will elicit precise answers. but he is unaware of the personal twist that words take. Language is not the precise tool that Guy envisions it to be: rather it is an intricate network of concepts. whose rapidity of change is only challenged by the depth of change. The words remain the same. Jesus is a name that has a common meaning. but the concept changes with time. Jesus. as a concept, is an historical token. an allegorical rune. whose full meaning can never be known and whose partial meaning can only be understood in terms of the historical context that surrounds it. The impossibility of complete knowledge does not. wholly deter Anne. She continues to talk with Guy. doing so with faith that the conversation will allow truths to be said. And it does. although the truths are not always flattering to Anne. Her turn outward in the 191 convent has led her to be concerned with only her position in regard to dogma. As she and Guy are discussing the meaning of judgment, he comments that he wants a judgment on his life. Anne suggests. "Don't you think others may need it. want it. too?" (NS. 67) Guy counters. ”Oh may be. but I'm only interested in my own case. Like you." (NS. 67) Anne's interest in life is selfish and however much she may serve others outwardly it is her own position that commands her attention. For instance. she persistently judges others. She says. A I "I funked it driving. Manfred drives too fast!" ' G. "You are censorious. I've been noticing it. . .You will judge people. . . .I see you as a judge. a holy judge in our lives. . . .You shall dispense justice.” Am I censorious. Anne wondered. She certainly found it. harder than she had expected to accept the tempo of worldly lives. . . .People irritated her. even Gertrude did. She disliked being marked off as "holy or ”a nun." Yet did she not feel different. superior? Yes. A terrible admission. (NS. 106) This resurgence of her ego is frightening. for it reminds Anne that those years in the convent may have been spent falsely. How pride supports me. . . .How unbroken it is. Have I really changed at all, can people change? That death in life which she attempted: to refuse false gods. to undo the self. . . .Was it not imaginary? (NS. 110) Her pride must be mastered if she is truly to enter the contemplative life. Conversation with Guy will not help ' for that becomes a satisfying kind of intellectual play. Neither will judging other people for that results in a false sense of man's capabilities. The manner suggested is a re-orientation process. whose beginning is small. 192 Anne picked up a stone. They were so similar. yet so dissimilar. . . .The shapes. very like. were never exactly the same. Each one. if carefully examined, revealed some tiny significant individ- uating mark. . . .Anne said to herself. what do my thoughts matter. what do their details matter. . . . Look at these stones. (NS. 107)—"— She has been carelessly walking on these stones not realiz- ing they have an existence of their own. They mean nothing to her. and yet. ”There they are." (NS. 108) Throughout the novel these small stones make their appearance. and their ineluctible individuality continually prods Anne to look at them. There is an event in Anne's life that also forces her mind outward. an event which strips Anne's mind of its dogma. Jesus Christ comes to her in a vision. But this vision rapidly is transformed into a visitation. For when she wakes and walks into her kitchen. she sees him physically there. Until this point. her encounter mirrors Mary Magdeline's. The manner and mode of the meetings are similar. only the result is different. For while Mary's faith is increased. Anne's faith is negated. Mary's triumphant risen Lord is replaced with a defeated Christ. who has "a strange pallor. the pallor of something which had long been deprived of light. . . .beardless. with wispy blond hair. . . .thin and of medium height." (NS. 290) Anne persists that he must be Christ. trying to prove it with his crucifixion wounds. He does confirm the basic fact of his historical death. "And they did not pierce my hands. They drove nails through my wrists. The flesh 193 of my hands would have torn away." (NS. 291) but simul- taneously denies it any lasting significance: "If there were wounds they have healed. If there was suffering it has gone and is nothing." (NS. 291) Christ also confirms her need of salvation. But this salvation is not the dog- matic one. When Anne asks. ”Sir. what shall I do to be saved?" she receives the same kind of answer that the rich young ruler received from Christ. She. too. is given a particular command. "You must do it all yourself. you know.” (NS. 291) and equally with the ruler cringes at the thought of fulfilling it. She. too. had thought that salvation was what the dogma said it was. But now She hears 9 "As for salvation. anything you can think about it is as imaginary as my wounds. I am not a magician. I never was. You know what to do. Do right. refrain from wrong. (NS. 292) Christ even further particularizes his command. He shows her a flat grey stone but refuses to declare its meaning. to give Anne the "miracle" she desires. Consistently Jesus turns the dogma into the particular. ”You must be the proof. The work is yours." (NS. 292) However. the command is too great. for Anne cannot endure the loss of her dogma. She took a staggering step forward and tried to touch his arm with her right hand. He moved back and one of her fingers just brushed the rolled- up sleeve of his shirt. she felt the texture of the rough material. Then she felt a searing pain in her hand and her eyes closed. (NS. 293) When Anne returns to consciousness and sees only the stone. her mind begins to work against the authenticity 194 of the visitation. However. her body forces her mind to accept the reality: "one of the fingers on her right hand was raw. the skin abrased. as if it had been burnt. She gazed at it." (NS. 294) Anne has been personally touched by Christ. He is her Christ. not part of a vast dogmatic tradition which she must join. There is a dif- ference between this personal view and a subjective per- spective. and this distinction will mark the manner in which the allegorist approaches his object too. The personal perspective looks outside itself. It attempts to use all of its senses to describe the exact outlines of the object in sight. A subjective perspective. on the other hand. re-writes the object in terms of the ego's needs. Attention to the details of the visitation renew in Anne a desire for worship and prayer. the nature of which is "quiet. wordless and blank." (NS. 323) This turning toward the particular is the kind of outward movement that the true Murdochian contemplative must have. In the light of her personal visitation. Anne is able to look at her last conversation with Guy and say. Perhaps he had simply wanted to say certain words aloud to somebody: justice. purgatory. suffering. death. He had wanted to feel that their precise meaning was there somewhere. kept safe by someone. even just at one moment existent in thought. (NS. 241) For a friend. then. Anne can allow that individual's particularity to exist: he can be through her. But for Tim. Anne's attitude remains inflexible. She is never surprised at unpleasant revelations about 195 him. Only as she meditates on her Christ does this attitude change. For that meditation causes her to separate the institutional Christ from her personal one. As she looses her hold upon the historical doctrines. she is con- fronted with. . . .only a man hanging up in unspeakable bleeding anguish. of which for the first time she was able to grasp the details. She felt appalled and sick: and with the loss of that old safety. morally taint- ed and astray. . . .She had gained pleasure from thinking of Tim and Daisy as corrupt and evil. (NS. 355) To see the detail is to see the human and that must bring about a change in attitude toward all persons. That is not an easy task. but one the contemplative finds necessary. Her unbroken pride had separated her from Gertrude. her vanity had nearly drowned her in Cumbria. . Why had she not imagined Daisy's loneliness. . . . Anne had been too absorbed in her own hopes. . . to have any thought to spare for catastrophes which her selfless masochistic morality might be bringing about in Daisy's life. (NS. 495) Anne is seeing how it is that her pride has prevented her from seeing other people. Just as Michael in The Bell faced his pride. so Anne is facing hers. She makes many discoveries about herself: her falling in love with the Count had been totally selfish. "she had not been interested in his interest in Christ. only in his interest in her." (NS. 495: her noble thoughts about being an "anchoress" in the world were mere illusions: in fact. every move that she has made since leaving the convent has been self- serving. What can possibly be left after this kind of self-evaluation? That is. how is it possible to be good? 196 Michael thought that fulfilling duties and recognizing the reality of the Mass was the way. but Anne goes be- yond that. To fulfill duty? Yes. but with the knowledge that one is probably doing so for selfish reasons. To deny self? Yes. but with the knowledge that to do so will probably be impossible. To believe in eternal structures? Yes. but with the knowledge that humans can never truly know much about those structures. This is the allegorical attitude for it recognizes its limitations. Mainly what humans have is the here and now. Anne reaches in her purse and touches the "elliptical grew stone. slightly chipped at one end. which her Visitor had shown to her and left behind him as a sign." (NSm 499) This stone is her sign. not the world's. It is a private showing. one that speaks to her of the smallness of human endeavor. that reminds her of the failure of Christ's mission. He was a failure. a pathetic deluded disappointed man who had come to an exceptionally sticky end. . . . Could she relive his journey and his passion while knowing that he was after all not God? (NS. 500) There are no dogmas left for Anne. no permanent background against which or upon which Anne may work. She must erect both the background and the pattern: surely, a more isolated position than Michael's. He at least had the sacrament of the Mass left. What sacrament does Anne have? For Murdoch a sacrament "provides an external visible place for an internal invisible act of the spirit."12 And for Anne that sacrament is love. a love that must enact both sides of the relationship. This doesn't 197 gggp exceptionally harsh. it ig harsh. For under these conditions there is no place for the ego to hide. no resting point about which it can gather its consolations. no center for it to act from. For the ego there is only knowledge. First. knowledge that life makes no sense: and second. that one must live a good life. At least she thought it is possible to help people. to make them happier and less anxious. This is some- how. I can't at the moment think how. both possible and necessary because of those final endings. (NS. 501) The first moment of knowledge could lead to despair. but it is Murdoch's contention that man. even against his will. "somehow" knows that eternal things exist. ‘From the humblest recognition that some things really are better than others comes a certainty that value exists not within the individual but outside him.13 And this is the salvational aspect of allegory. It is what makes it an optimistic form. We are not embroiled in endless structures as de Man insists or limited by the latest theological symbol as Jameson's History would suggest. Moral action. then. is not only possible but a constant choice that each person makes. Anne's Christ is real. his objective existence and her love of him. however failed on both sides. offers a method of living a good life. Anne's sacrament of love. an act in which she con- structs both sides. is somehow given meaning in the face of death. Like Michael before her. her confrontation with death. first in Guy's physical death and, second. in the death of herself. brings her to a mystical assurance 198 that virtuous action is the way. Anne strives to attain the good. something that has a ”metaphysical position but no form." 1“ Murdoch presents an austere picture. stringent in its claims and noble in its outlines. For it claims that we can seek others and not ourselves. that we can be realistic to the point of personal painfulness. that we can "cease" to be in the ego-ridden self. and that we can know some- thing of eternal structures. This outline is distinguished by love. a term whose premise is variety. That is. love gives us the ability to see the particulars of another person. to see his unique place in the world. Something happens after a prolonged and continuous reading of Murdoch's works. The temptation to string events together. to type—cast characters. to explain the significance of a work fades and the sheer joy of reading about and contemplating such a variety of individuals emerges. Accidental? No. an adjunct to the allegorical structure. For allegory is the mode that allows the particularity of others to stand: it alone offers a method of seeing their true outlines. pg; Philosopher's Pupil does not disappoint these expectations but ingeniously creates a crowded world of individuals. all of whom vie for attention. The ”purple Prolixity"15 of its prose and the ”harlequinade"16 of its characters' lives may be intended as condemnations by critics but seen in the light of Murdoch's belief in the moral reality of the 199 particular. its expansiveness stands as proof of the fun- damental value of human life. The details of the novel will speak for themselves. A few minutes before his brainstorm. or whatever it was. took place. George McCaffrey was having a quarrel with his wife. It was eleven o'clock on a rainy March evening. They had been visiting George's mother. Now George was driving along the quayside. taking the short-cut along the canal past the iron foot-bridge. It was raining hard. The malignant rain rattled on the car like shot. Propelled in oblique flurries it assaulted the windscreen. obliterating in a second the frenetic strivings of the windscreen wipers. Little demonic faces composed of racing raindrops appeared and vanished. The intermittent yellow light of the street lamps. illuminating the grey atoms of the storm. fractured in sudden stars upon the rain- swarmed glass. Bumping on cobbles the car hummed and drummed. (PP. 1) This opening paragraph contains several characteristics to be noted. First. the details are used to form short descriptive sentences that are reminiscient of latter portions of Under the Net. There. Jake used this kind of descriptive technique to see the outlines of the physical world. Here. while the descriptive attitude is certainly_ one gesture. it is not the only one. The weighted emotional terms--malignant. shot assaulted. obliterating. frenetic. demonic. fractured. bumping--might well describe a military action instead of a snow storm. Further. the narrator readily admits his emotional bias when he ack- nowledges in the first sentence his uncertainity about George McCaffrey's action. The writer both admits he was not an eye-witness and assaults the view that physical things can be objectively described. This might not be startling if the novel were written in the first person. 200 There the bias of the writer is expected. but this novel is written in the supposedly ”objective" third person. Well the narrator should confess his lack of know- ledge. For the quarrel that he proceeds to recount in detail from the intricate converstaion between George and his wife to the car sliding in the quay is not even based on first-hand observation. The writer's contact with the scene is Stella's description: and as we come to know. she has little claim to objectivity. However. these details are all we have. That makes them important. and the event that they comprise also makes them important. This event will haunt George throughout the novel. and the interpretation that he gives to its supposed details will literally change his life. George and his wife's quarrels are so habitual that full attacks are no longer necessary. It is enough to bring up names. phrases. snatches of old disagreements: their minds and bodies can travel down those well-worn tracks automatically. George strikes Stella. causing the car to careen and then jumps out the door in order to get away. At this point the car is perched on the edge of an embankment. He fell against the back of the car. bracing his feet against the rough stones of the quay and trying to push with open palms upon the back window. He felt the rainy muddy glass. . . . Then he fell headlong on the stones. Nothing was there. no car. no figure. nothing. (PP. The question is: did George deliberately push the car? Are his intentions to do so proof enough? Or is the 201 testimony of the witness to his actions needed? What George did or didn't do becomes a philosophical question of the reliability of inner or outer proofs. Just as allegory and symbolism do not neatly oppose one another. inner and outer proofs will not be resolved in terms of a simple opposition.) The account offered is done so in terms of an absent third person. a narrator who is never part of any direct action. Part ii in the Prelude written by the narrator introduces him to the reader. I am the narrator. . . .This book is not about me . . . .I shall call myself "N." But as far as this drama is concerned I am a shadow. . . .I am an ob- server. a student of human nature. moralist. a man: and will allow myself here and there the discreet luxury of moralizing. (PP. 16) "N" makes it sound as if objectivity is possible. as if a careful description of events and the people enacting. them will contain a truthful account. It presumes a shared world of fact capable of description in common language. Murdoch. of course. accepts no such premise and has on several occasions articulated her opposition.17 Further. the overt reference to moral activity corroborates the suspicion. Morality simply defined as rules of con- duct may work for a narrator who promises non-interference. but morality defined as a unique world view (as Murdoch does) will not so function. Morality on those terms becomes not just a judgment of action but a recognition that people act because they view the world in a certain 202 manner. Therefore to promise "discreet moralizing" is to promise the impossible. The moral person knows it is impossible to comment on only a part of another person. recognizing that any comment carries an interpretation of the other person's life. Thus. the opening scene. indeed the entire novel. becomes "N“'s judgment on the events and the characters who act in them. Seen in this light. ”N"'s introduction to the town and its people takes on curious overtones. ”N" purports to offer an historical sketch of the town. It is after all "N"'s town. Ennistone. He portrays its physical setting. its community activities. its general atmosphere. its remains of other inhabitants: the Roman Bridge. the megaliths. the medieval village. the eighteenth century structures. and the local celebrities. Ennistone's history as a spa is recounted in minute detail as well as a description of each building. The McCaffrey family history is given. with information as far back as George's great- great grandfather and as recent as George himself. All of the chronicle is offered in an affable manner as fact. but is permeated by oblique moral commentary. For instance. when the narrator discusses the community life. he mentions Ennistone's ”responsible citizens" being en- gaged in ”worthwhile activities" (PP. 17) It looks as if "N" is accounting for the context. But when he juxta- poses "worthwhile citizens" with ”it is characteristic of our town to have many of these" his ironic judgment is plain. 203 The chronicle then reveals its subjective bias. For there is a duplicitous role to this narrator. It displays itself in "N"'s unwillingness to say with certainty that an event actually happened. In the first paragraph. "N” qualifies George's action by calling it a "brainstorm or whatever it was.” Later the narrator scruplously informs the reader that there are "several different versions" of the Fiona Gates' story as well as a mis-understanding about the exact cause of George's son's death. In many other incidents the narrator reveals his unwillingness to close entirely any area of life.' This attitude does not demonstrate weakness on his part. but displays a certain generosity of spirit. thus allowing him to really look at the other person. He says at one point. I confess that I cannot offer any illuminating explanation. Every human being is different.more absolutely different and peculiar than we can goad ourselves into conceiving: and our persistent desire to depict human lives as dramas leads us to see "in the same light” events which may have multiple inter- pretations and causes. (PP. 76) What Story is the narrator telling? It may be George McCaffrey's. In that case. the details of his back- ground and present activities would be of some importance. His thoughts about his wife. his teacher. and his family would carry the main thrust of the novel's meaning. Or the story may be about John.Robert Rosanov. In that case. his history as a philosopher. his relations to his grand- daughter Hattie. the manner in which he touches so many 204 lives would be of most importance. There is a "story” about each of the novel's characters. an interest in their particular minds that cannot be ignored. The narrator does not favor one character over another. nor does he elevate one at the expense of the other. This multiplicity of story lines is a concrete example of allegory: it is a purposeful structuring that forces the reader to choose. This choice will involve taking on the moral viewpoint of that character and so altering the perspective on everyone else. In this novel. there is not a valorization of one perspective as there is in other novels. ‘Tpg Philosopher's Pppil makes all roles and choices available to the reader. Even those roles and commitments of which Murdoch elsewhere approves are singularly absent in this novel. Readers are forced to declare themselves. And when they admit an attraction for. or begin an examination of one of the characters. they show their own areas of interest. They also example a philosophical position that argues meaning is conferred by the subject and not the object. The narrator alludes to this in his description of George. Calling him a violent man. "N" says. The causes of a habit of violence are mysterious and not often lucidly studied. since those who take an intelligent interest in violent cases usually have deep psychological reasons for preferring certain explanations. (PP. 74) Therefore. when I state that I am going to examine George McCaffrey and John Robert Rosanov. I am already declaring myself to be structuring Murdoch's world in terms what are 205 partially my own. George is a violent man. a "fact" agreed upon by almost everyone. His brother wants to give him electric shocks: his sister-in-law. his mistress. and other townspeople want to save him from himself: his teacher wants him to cease existence: his wife wants him to conform to her idea of manhood: even his mother wishes he weren't so impossible. George crashes around. wishing he could drown the babies in the pool. wishing he could kill wife and/or teacher. wishing he could 393 out the sense that he has of himself. However. George's understanding of himself is a dis- continuous one. That is. his thinking reveals a different man than the one who acts. and George is desparately trying to unite the two. He specifically speaks of this two- sided nature. "As on similar occasions in the past. he felt a cleavage between himself and the George who did things." (PP. 14) One manifestation of this tension can be seen in his recurring fantasy about Stella. when he Dreams. of drowning someone. as it might be Stella. and burying the corpse in a wood and visiting the uiet grave regularly. . .and no one ever suspected. PP. 13) The dream is to kill: what is the reality? When the accident occurs during their argument. does he really try to kill Stella? Does his intention to push the car count as an actual thing? Does his mind's activity have substance. or does only the overt act of pushing? He kept on recalling the incident with the car. He remembered the huge sickening sound of the car entering the water. . . .But he could not clearly 206 see what had happened just before. Had he actually ushed the car. could he have done that? Was he simply imagining that he had put his hands on the back window and braced his feet on the cobbled quay and made the car move forward? Surely. that was fantasy. . . .(PP. 357) Since he can remember the intention with such lucidity. perhaps it is only the act that is important for George. Perhaps it is this side of the dichotomy that will confer actuality for him. To put it this way is to invoke Murdoch's entire investigation of the relationship between public 18 In conversation with John action and private thought. Robert Rosanov. George asks. If I pushed the car does that mean I intended to kill her? What was I thinking at just that moment? . Did I intend to drive the car into the canal? (PP. 223) He must know if he has done the action and needs to find someone who observed the accident. At the same moment when he was either pushing or not pushing the car. he looked toward the bridge and "saw that there was a figure on it. a tall figure in a long black coat.” (PP. 6) This is the witness that George needs to find. For the other person at the scene. Stella. refuses to give an answer. When George asks her pointedly if he ”made” the accident happen. she counters. "You mean you don't remember?" (PP. 505) and then hastens to assure him that it was an accident. This is directly opposite her assessment to "N." N. "Like trying to kill you?" S. "Well--he tried in a sense--but--" "He pushed the car." "Yes. I can still see so clearly his hands pressed on the back window. . . .(PP. 371) 207 Here she admits in the only sense that is important to George that he did try to kill her. If the public act equals the inner intent to murder. then George is guilty. However. George is not privy to this information and must yet rely on the witness in the black coat. George finds that Father Bernard is that witness and asks if the priest saw what happened. Father Bernard answers. ”You jumped out as the car went over the edge. Of course you didn't try to push it. It was an accident." (PP. 510) This answer does not relieve George. For if he is to find meaning only in action. he has no reality yet. He is still limited to the inner. still the man who must prove his existence by an action. This need for action can be seen in his relationship with his former teacher John Robert Rosanov. Their association encompasses many years and is marked by mutual mis-understandings. John Robert dislikes George but denies him any act. When accosted and goaded by George. John Robert refuses to become involved on any level. Rosanov ignores George. telling him their relationship has been an illusion. George is obliged to agree with John Robert and as a result redoubles his efforts to force John Robert to act. Finally. the philosopher acts in the form of a letter. one designed "to 22; George abSolutely. to exclude him totally. . . ." (PP. 459) George's first reaction to the letter is despair: he doesn't care to exist in a world where he and John Robert have no connection. However. 208 a change in perspective causes George to view the letter as a "merciful” climax to their long relationship. By this act he has gotten beyond John Robert. Seemingly. George's confidence in the reality-conferring rank of the act has paid off. but there is a final test. Stella tells George that he not only did not try to kill her but that if he insists on leaving her. she will go to Rosanov (She had been his student too.). Whereupon. "George leapt to his feet. 'You'll talk to him about me. . . . (PP. 524) Whether it is the denial of his action or the thought that his relationship with John Robert could con- tinue through Stella that sets George's mind to kill Rosanov is not known. but he does purpose to do just that. The mixing of thought and action remains in force. George goes to John Robert's room and finds him sleeping. He pushes the bed to the filled bath tub and throws John Robert into the water. repeatedly pushing his head under. Satisfied that he has killed John Robert, George leaves thinking. . . .this is the first day. the first hour. of the new world in which everything will be entirely dif— ferent. I have undergone a cosmic change. every atom. every particle is changed. . .I have done what I had to do. I have had the courage. the devotion. to do it. (PP. 556) By this act. done in full consciousness. George secures his reality. But it is short-lived and lacking in the relief that George imagined it would bring. For he has neglected to take into account the moral side of man. Thus. after his act. he is unprepared for the remorse 209 he feels. "He felt the pain beginning: it was starting to spread inside him. the crippling awful pain of absolute remorse. . . ." (PP. 556) Before his act George saw only its symbolic nature. only its abstracted and synthesized meaning. He failed to understand that "It is retrospectively that we give the thing a structure."19 This quote has a double reference. Within the novel it is ascribed to John Robert: outside it comes from Murdoch's own.monograph to the Aristotelian Society. "Nostalgia for the Particular.” One of its concerns is the manner in which man bestows meaning. Murdoch contends that the symbolic method which claims to apprehend significances immediately in actuality assigns meaning to an experience after the fact. This means in terms of the limited point here that it is man thinking who assigns meaning. not man acting. This is the crux of , George's problem: he has assumed that action is the way to meaning and is devastated when he finds the opposite to be true. Thus. if he thought he had pushed the car. that was the important point. The intention impels the action. Therefore. the ensuing confusion as to whether John Robert commited suicide or was murdered is not important. Indeed. all the ambiguities of an event are not important. What is being falsely compounded is the difference between the clarity of an experience and the clarity of a concept. Murdoch argues that an experience may be clear in that 210 its physical elements can be vivid and non-ambiguous. but the observer may choose to describe it from one of 2° Thus. while Stella may admit that several angles. George physically pushed the car. from her point of view he did not intendto kill her. And the priest. trying as he was to give the answer that would "save" George. also denies George's action. thus hoping to deny the intention. Facts never exist by themselves: they are always used. What is needed. then. is a self-conscious understanding of the role that concepts play. George is not simply a sum of his actions. and no belated commentary on those actions can produce the man in his fulness. Neither is man simply a mind. as the character of John Robert Rosanov demonstrates. He is first intro- duced when "N" remarks that John Robert is one of the famous persons of Ennistone. a philosopher of international repute. The "fact" of his existence causes different reactions in different persons: Brian McCaffrey describes him as a "charlatan". Alex McCaffrey "fell madly in love" as did Tom McCaffrey. the priest. Pearl Scotney and probably several other unnamed people. He has a powerful person- ality. one that is totally committed to the mind and its functions. so that he judges people by how well they ”do" philosophy. It is on these terms that he dismisses George from his life and recognizes Stella's merits. Joyce Carol Oates has observed that John Robert is reminiscent of earlier ”enchanter” figures. such as Hugo Belfounder 211 or Mischa Fox.21 But there is a gap that separates the personalities of the earlier enchanters from John Robert. and that is the ironical contempt in which he holds himself. For when the author opens John Robert's mind.' John Robert was tired of his mind. He was tired of his strong personality and his face and the effect he had upon people. He often thought about death. But something still remained which bound him to the world. It was not philosophy. . . . Now every morning as he assumed the burden of conscious- ness he reflected upon its strangeness: the mystery of mind. so general and so particular. . . .All those days and nights he had spent with the many and the one. how little wisdom they had brought him. now when thoughts were changing into living sense. and appearance and reality contended inside his frame. . . .a large pain. The point of solipsism. often missed. was that it abolished morality. So if the pain he felt seemed like a spiritual pain. must he not be the victim of a mistake? (PP. 130) The picture offered here is not the one of a confident man pursuing his ideal. In fact. John Robert describes himself as having long been beyond that. of having absorbed all theories. constructed his own and found even that lacking. His theory is deficient not just because a belief in the ideal could not be maintained. Now he must relinquish his belief in the mind that construes its own ideal. To remember the point at which Murdoch left Anne Cavidge will put John Robert's problem in context. She faces her life as a contemplative not with the confidence that she can necessarily build her own religion but with the confidence that it is a worthwhile activity of the mind. John Robert began his career at the level of Anne's confidence and has come to see. 212 . . .it all as though some substance. . .had rotted away into scraggy fibres: and beyond was chaos. the uncategorized manifold. the ultimate~ jumble of the world. before which the metaphysican covers his eyes. (PP. 131) \e The mind as an instrument seeking reality has not failed John Robert: in fact. his mind's work is forcefully sketched. Its rigorous logic. its desire for simplicity. and its ceaseless activity are made plain. But his mind has brought him the knowledge that reality is formless. Before confronting the effect that this knowledge has on Rosanov. it will be educative to see the rudiments of his mind's activity in a philosophical conversation. He selects the priest as a conversant. and they begin with the subject of God. J.R."Do you believe in God?" F.B."No." "Come. anything counts as belief these days!" "No . 0' ”So you're an odd sort of priest.” "Yes . N "You reject God?" "Yes. "It is not enough to reject him. you must hate him. " "Do you hate him?" ”I abominate the concept." Father Bernard said.”So do I." but in a whisper. "Why do you whisper. do you think he's listening?" "I don't believe in a personal God.” "You mean 'God' isn't a name?" "But I believe in a spiritual reality. " "What does 'reality' mean here. what is 'spiritual', could you give examples?” (PP.185) The conversation is nearly a parody of the drive for conceptual clarity which excludes emotion. believing that specified language may bring forth at least textual if not transcendent truth. In the same manner the two discuss salvation. Christ. religion. suffering. narcissim. morality, 213 faith. love--always in accurate ordinary language with the purpose of giving form to those concepts. In Father Bernard's case the most important concept is love. de- fined as "Ioving others as ChristeeI mean loving Christ in them." (PP. 191) Such love verifies its existence by the sheer persistence of love in the world. Morality is John Robert's most important concept. defined as a lived "ambiguity" which is verified by man's innate sense of duty. However. it is exactly this concept of morality that causes his problems. For if everything is ambiguous how can the particular move to the universal. And if the particular does not transform itself into the general. how does any meaning exist? As a test for his own theory of how the particular and universal unite. John Robert postulates the act of suicide. His movement from intention to act sets him opposite George. and the mis-match between them runs throughout the novel. Their reunion is exemplary. George visits the philosopher at home. where their con- versation is a marked contrast to the one between John Robert and the priest. George begins with a personal comment. "I'm glad to see you.” (PP. 141) and tries to discuss personal matters with him. None of this is successful and so he becomes even more personal. There is yet no response from John Robert. Finally George launches into an emotional appeal. "You stole my reality. you stole my consciousness. you're the only person who can give them 214 back to me." (PP. 145) Still John Robert does not respond insisting that there is "no structure here to make sense of the language you are using. there is no context for any conversation between us." (PP. 145) John Robert's definition of human relationships does not include George's emotion and his appeal therefore goes unanswered. Incapable of conversing in the manner that John Robert does allow. George retreats. This pattern of emotional appeal and refusal continues throughout the r remainder of their meetings. as The final communication between the two men is the aforementioned letter. And while it will never be known if the letter caused George to kill John Robert. it is certain that George never knew either what caused John Robert to write the letter. For that involves a relation- ship with his grand-daughter that even he can hardly admit to. She has come to stay at Alex McCaffrey's ”Slipper House.” Through a combination of complex circumstances a drunken group of young people invites itself to the house. The events that transpire are very confused and equally unplanned. While several confrontations occur. nothing of any substance happens. The particular event - that causes John Robert's jealousy is George's part in. the ”Slipper House RiotI" The paper reports that George broke in the house and "did something." Immediately John Robert believes that his grand-daughter has been ”compromised.” Thus. he writes the letter to George 215 intending it to signal that ”he had thereby finally finished with George and could forget him." (PP. 434) Having settled George's position in his life. John Robert turns to the problem of the riot itself. His handling of that situation reveals the inadequacies of a man who depends solely on thinking. He determines to treat the riot as a philosophical problem and employs his usual method of socratic questioning. Just as he coerced the priest into definition and exemplification. so he approaches Hattie. ' ‘ J.R."I mean--what you read in the paper--was it true?“ H. "No. of course not! It was horrible spiteful journalism-- it upset us very much." "So George McCaffrey was not in this house?" "Well. he was. but--” "So it was true. an some of it was true?" "Yes. but--” (PP. 442) This mode of questioning continues and the mass of damning evidence against Hattie builds: George was in the house. Tom was invited in. Pearl did leave her alone. Hattie did tell someone John Robert wanted her to become acquainted with Tom-—all and more true "facts" about the riot. This pitch of interrogation continues until John Robert's bias cannot be missed. He is convinced something terrible occured during the riot and his mind will not be satisfied until Hattie confesses. However. there is no terrible secret to reveal and Hattie cries. "Oh I can't explain exactly. but it wasn't anyone's fault--" (PP. 444) H. "What's wicked is that article that you're so obsessed with. you got all that stuff out of the article. it's all just spiteful lies. you haven't proof. Well. have you? 216 J.R."Strong possibilities amount to proof.” H. YPerhaps they do in philosophy. but I prefer to believe what I can see clearly." "That's in philosoph too. But what you see clearly can be false!” (PP, 467 The account of the riot indicates that John Robert's interpretation of the facts is not correct. He is confused. full of prejudice and judgments from other situations. He was not at the riot nor is he now going to seriously attend to the testimony of one who was there. Tom offers to tell the truth and John Robert says. ”The details don't matter. It is all sufficiently bad to be fatal." (PP. 421) John Robert's prejudice is against detail: he prefers the fabrications of theory. And this prejudice has serious consequences. For the lack of attention to detail. the inability to see that philosophy is tied to detail. causes him to miss the human element in a given theory. He has spent his life attending to theoretical configurations. believing that they somehow outline the face of the universal. He does not under- stand that the abstract theory was once a particular in a man's mind. John Robert has long desired. fgq‘ppipg gpwp nothing 233 Egg ppppg. . . .The crystalline truth. not a turgid flood of mucky half-truths not even half- truths. but desecrating obfuscations. harryings. muddyings. taunting vilifications of the truth." (PP. 132) He has never attained that goal and his actions indicate a realization that he never will. Not only is the object non-existent. but also the desire itself is fostered by 217 a limited mind. If Murdoch is vilifying the man of thought. what is it that she promotes? It has been speculated that she puts forward a long familiar Platonic argument seen in the person of the novel's survivior. Father Bernard.22 His Platonism is seen in a letter to "N." In that letter he espouses an idealism that does attempt to trace the form of the good. However. if attention is given to the details of Father Bernard's ideal. an unusual kind of structure emerges. Here are some excerpts: What do I preach? That there is no God. that even the beauty of Christ is a snare and a lie. "Nothing exists except God and the soul:” and when one has understood that. one knows that there is no God. For what is real and true look at these stones. this bread. this spring of water. these sea waves. this horizon with its pure untroubled line. . . . I cannot go on. It is sacrilege to utter words which are bound to be mis-understood. . . . There is no beyond. there is only here. the infinitely small, infinitely great and utterly demanding present. (PP. 570771) The priest is not attempting to move beyond this world into the realm of forms. He argues that the details of the physical are the spiritual truths. Contemplation of the particular does not lead to the mystical. but reveals the significance of that particular alone. If indeed we consider how contemplation may dis- cover (or create) an immediate form within its object we may even feel it possible to re-estab- lish the significance of the world by turning all experience into contemplation. 23 This kind of contemplation guarantees both the reality of the particular and the mind observing it. By letting go of a need to generalize experience. by allowing the 218 full existence of others. Father Bernard understands not only the inarticulate privacy of our world but also its truthfulness. It seems as if Father Bernard's kind of contemplation lies close to the symbolic. especially when he declares it "sacrilege" to utter words which are bound to be mis-understood. Perhaps a vision of the particular is what Murdoch is suggesting. But her feelings against the false synthesizing movement of the symbolic action are too deeply held to allow such an interpretation. She is acknowledging the limits of language. Surely. John Robert ‘should have realized that words could not contain the whole of any experience. For the proof of the experience is the experience itself. A paltry explanation does not preclude the existence of a rich experience: in fact. acknowledgment of the experience's paltriness leads to simultaneous acknowledgment of the experience's depth. Thie acknowlegment of lack is a distinction of allegory. whici dialectically moves from the level of the particular to the universal. Murdoch's contemplation thus offers a place for the eternal to be represented. Her method effectively silences the romantic's desire for the beyond by demonstrating that meaning is found here and now. This is not a validation of the ego. for in this structure the self does not look inward. But how is it that the other thing can be justly seen? To say something will be explained would not be impossible 219 if contexts could be established. But to say jpgp imposes a moral judgment whose limitations cannot be established. For when Father Bernard declares that Rosanov failed because ”Metaphysics and the human sciences are made impossible by the pgnetration.p£ morality ippg‘ppg moment 32 moment conduct 3; ordinary lifg: the understanding of this fact lg religion." (PP. 571) he is making the obser- vation that all human endeavor is moral. Objectivity is not only impossible. it is not desireable. Throughout the novel this lack of objectivity is consistently underscored. We live in a world'that is fundamentally ambiguous because its "facts" are interpreted by unique minds. . . .we confer meaning not only upon the ethical and religious systems. but upon the physical world too. in that we see it as the correlative of our needs and intentions. 24 What remains? Perhaps only failure: the failure of George's symbolic act which needed a meaning derived from an inward structure. or the failure of John Robert's life which needed a meaning derived from an outward structure. It is. however. possible that Murdoch is proposing that meaning is fundamentally discrete. It isn't that meaning is anti-order: in fact. it consists of separation and order as a primary activity. But it does recognize that the resultant structure is necessarily unique. It is not intended as a pattern for anyone else to appropriate. just as it is not intended as a true 220 outline of the universal. It is intended to display the workings of a mind upon a detail which leads at once to rigidity (It is after all phig pattern.) and flexibility (It is only pp; pattern.) Murdoch's allegorical structure is. as promised. not the easy opposition of inner and outer proof. No such separation can be made by the sub- jective mind. Its knowledge is necessarily ambiguous. However. it is based on the substantial nature of truth. so that the mind can confidently look outside itself. Such a guarantee offers the only possibility for lasting meaning. NOTES 1This concept is found in Murdoch's. "The Sublime and The Good." p. 55: "Revisited." p. 271: Sovereigpty. E. 86: and "The Novelist as Metaphysician." Egg Listener 3 (March 16. 1950): 474. 2Murdoch. Sovereignty. p. 72. 3Murdoch. Fire. p. 36. “Ibido! p. 720 5Baldanza. p. 168. 6Murdoch. Fire. p. 66. 7Ibid., p. 84. 8Ibid.. p. 87. 9Dipple. p. 313. 10Murdoch. "The Sublime and The Good." p. 52. 11Murdoch. Sovereignty. p. 81. lzIbido’ p. 69. 13Ibid.. p. 61. 1“'Ibidg p. 73. 15David Lehman. "Water Torture." Newsweek (June 20, 1983): 75- 16Joyce Carol Oates. "love and Other Illusions." New York Times Book Review (July 17. 1983): 20. 17This opposition to common language is found in Murdoch's. "Vision and Choice in Morality." Dreams gpg Self—Knowled e. Aristotelian Society. Supplementary Volumne 30 (1956). p. 39: "Metaphysics and Ethics." Egg Nature pf Meta h sics. ed. D.F. Pears (London: Macmillan and 50.. Ltd.. 1957). p. 102: "Revisited." p. 254: and Sovereignty, pp. 11-28. 18This concept is found in Murdoch's. "Nostalgia for the Particular.” Proceedings 9; the Aristotelian Society 52 (1952): 246. 19Ibid.. p. 259. 221 222 20Ibid.. p. 252. 21Oates. p. 21. 22Ibid., p. 20. 23Murdoch. "Nostalgia." p. 256. 2L""Murdoch. "Novelist." p. 476. Conclusion Conclusions are nearly as difficult as beginnings. For just as the beginning of a piece is arbitrary. so the ending is no less arbitrary. And while I can not simply stop. allowing the work to wither. it is not possible to properly conclude either. That "properly" ' in the laws of rhetoric demands a judgmental position. one that brings to maturity questions raised at the outset of this work. In the writings of Iris Murdoch this is not an easy task. For keeping in mind her dislike of closure and of rounding off a situation will make necessary an ‘adjustment of the usual attitude. Form may be the great temptation of art as it falsely gives pattern to events and confidence to their arranger. but just as Murdoch must admit the necessity of form for art's existence. so there is a necessity here for a formal conclusion. This dissertation has pursued the main question of whether or not allegory can be considered a viable mode of expression. It has examined the distinction between allegory and symbolism finding that adherence to either aesthetic is premised on exclusive theories of knowledge. I have argued that symbolism relies on a'subjectivist theory of knowledge that by the twentieth century can no longer claim to transcend humanity. Symbolism has become bogged down by its own inwardness. Allegory. on the other hand. is a mode of expression based on an 223 224 objectivist theory of knowledge. And while post—modern allegorical theory no longer believes in an eternal and immutable source of knowledge. thus lacking the naivete of traditional allegory. it continues to believe in an outside source of truth. I have argued that man's relationship to this truth is ambiguous. made so by his subjectivity. For post-modern forms of allegory do not claim to set up true outlines of a spiritual world. nor do they claim to present truth. They are representations of truth and as such perform two functions: (1) the necessary use of detail to ensure the value of the physical world. and (2) their hollow structure to ensure the otherness of truth. Because of the objective nature of these runes and equally because of their implication in subjectivity. they become signs for men to read. Their paucity becomes their strength just as their multiplicity becomes their claim to truth. So it is that when the critics in Chapter II complain that Murdoch writes allegory they are Saying more than they know. Although they argue that their positions toward her works are objective. they demonstrate in their use of the term allegory the symbolist's abhorence for it. Thus. their positidns are proprietary in nature and already prejudiced to find only symbolic wholes. When they examine her work and find bits and pieces that refuse to settle into a relationship of parts to whole. they necessarily judge that work to be inferior. I argued 225 that what was needed to correct this perspective is not just an inclusion of narrative movement. for that merely ignores the problem. but a re-orientation of vision. The object of the vision is to be the author's work itself. and the approach to that object is to be a careful examination of the detail. In that spirit. I offered a methodology of examination. one that focused on two moments: the centrifugal and the centripetal. While the first one must concentrate on the detail of the author's work. the second moment concentrates on the purposes of that work's structure. By remaining aware of the oppositional pull that inheres in these moments it becomes possible to see that Murdoch's abundant detail mirrors the contingency of human life. while her structures are runes meant to be read as signs. For the meaning in any allegorical structure is necessarily an assigned one. Thus. an examination of Upggp Egg Np: reveals a structure that explains the manner in which man is to become aware of the detail that surrounds him. It figures the painful process of the ego looking out- ward and seeing that something other than itself has existence. The novel's structure also causes reflection on the uneasy duality in language. between its need to' say an experience for that experience to exist and the distortion that occurs in that saying. No resolution is offered for that duality but at least its position is articulated. The Bell demonstrates that while man can. 226 use of detail he notices as he wishes. to do so is an act of illusion. As the reader follows Michael's recog- nition of his deceptive ego. he is educated in the many guises that the ego can affect. These powerful masks are reflected again in Bruno's Dream. But there the detail asserts its own existence and refuses to be subsumed into any one person's mind. By using several characters and presenting them in disjunctive moments. the author confirms that the only manner in which the ego may see its true outline is against detail. The structure is a treatise on this subject which uses as its most powerful subject the ego's recognition of its own extinction. The open-ended nature of the treatise is repeated more strongly in Egg Blggk Prince. where its hesitancies of beginning and ending force the reader to reflect on the arbitrary nature of assigning significance to any detail. .Significance comes entirely from its interpreter. Thus. Bradley's movement from silence to speech figures as a just re- cognition of the interpreter's importance. It is also a confirmation of language's limitations yet its unique- ness. This strength of language together with its weakness demonstrates the manner in which man uses the -detail around him and is in turn used by the detail. The working out of this equation is shown in Nppg gpg Soldiers. There. the method that Anne and Guy use to interpret the detail reflects their own needs. The individuals in that novel create their own structures and play out their 227 implications. However. there is equal attention to the detail. Thus. the author's emphasis on it causes reflection as to the way in which a careful contemplation of the other can bring true outlines of self. Anne's re-orientation of vision comes not from her working on the facts but from the facts working on her. These facts because of their use by man. remain implicated in his subjectivity. and no- where is this more clearly seen than in‘Tpg Philosopher's ‘Egpil. There the structure stands for man's predicament: his placement in the world makes it impossible for him to move beyond it. Murdoch's structure forces the reader. to not only recognize this as the character's dilemma but also as his own. Thus. the vantage point from which one interprets this novel reveals the interpreter's own bias. And rather than this structure becoming yet one more subtly articulated argument for symbolism. its recognition that it is only one interpretation among many secures for it an allegorist's position. These reflections are not intended to sum up Murdoch. nor do they intend a right conclusion. They are written to indicate the manner in which the detail and the abstract interrelate to bring into being a structure. That these structures are allegories is the point of their articulation: that they prove the viability of allegory is the argument of the dissertation. But what can not be argued and must not be missed for its importance in Murdoch's thought. is the moral cast of these structures. They are not 228 created to exist in isolation or to be examples of beauty or to exercise the intellect: rather. they are created to illuminate the manner in which man may become aware of something other than himself. Whether it is through creation of art. or suffering without thrills. or death without consolation. or the effects of wandering causes. or the importance of the virtuous life. or the impossibility of transcending subjectivity. Murdoch's structures. which can be given many meanings. are written to remind man that his existence is a moral one. To prefer allegory as the form most able to fulfill man's desire for mean- ingful existence. we must with Jacob Bohme prefer "the value of sound over silent profundity." 1 NOTES 1Benjamin. Origin. p. 201. 229 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY PRINCIPAI.WORKS BY IRIS MURDOCH Ag Accidental Man. New York: The Viking Press. 1971. "Against Dryness: A Polemical Sketch." Encounter 16 (January. 1961). 16 20. The Bell. London: Chatto and Windus. 1962. The Black Prince. New York: Warner Books. 1973. Bruno's Dream. Middlesex: Penquin Books Ltd.. 1969. "The Darkness of Practical Reason.” Encounter 27 (July. 1966): 46- 50. A Fairly Honorable Defeat. Middlesex: Penquin Books Ltd.. 1970- The Flight From the Enchanter. London: Chatto and Windus. 1956. ”Hegel in Modern Dress.” The New Statesman and Nation 53 (May 25. 1957): 675 Henry and Cato. Middlesex: Penquin Books Ltd.. 1976. The Italian Girl. Middlesex: Penquin Books Ltd.. 1964. "Knoging fine Void." Spectator 197 (November 2.1956): 13-1 "Mass. Might. and Myth." Spectator 209 (September 7. 1962): 337- 38 "Metaphysics and Ethics.” The Nature of Metaphysics. Ed. D. F. Pears. London: Macmillan— and Co. Ltd.. 1968) The Nice and The Good. London: Chatto and Windus. 1968. 230 231 "Nostalgia for the Particular." Proceedings 93 the Aristote- lian Society 52 (1952): 243-60. "The Novelist as Metaphysician." The Listener 43 (March 16. Nuns and Soldiers. Middlesex: Penquin Books Ltd.. 1980. The Philosopher'g Pupil. New York: The Viking Press. 1983. The Sandcastle. London: Chatto and Windus. 1957. Sartre: The fiomantic Rationalist. Cambridge: Bowes and Bowes. 1953. The Sea. The Sea. Middlesex: Penquin Books. 1980. A Severed Head. London: Chatto and Windus. 1961. The Sovereignty 2; Good. New York: Schocken Books. 1971. ”The Sublime and The Beautiful Revisited." Yale Review 49 (Winter. 1960): 247-71. "The Sublime and The Good.” Chicago Review 13 (Autumn. 1959): 42-55- 21:3 _Ti_m_e o_:t_* _Tpp Ar_1gels. New York: The Viking Press. 1966. ‘Qgggp App App. London: Chatto and Windus. 1962. Ap Unofficial Aggg. London: Chatto and Windus. 1962. 222 Unicorn. London: Chatto and Windus. 1963. "Vision and Choice in Morality." Dreams and Self-Knowled e Aristotelian Society. Supplementary Vqumne 30 (1956): 32-58 0 A Word Child. Middlesex: Penquin Books Ltd.. 1975. SECONDARY SOURCES Allsop. Kenneth. The Anggy Decade. New York: The British Book Centre. 1958. Auerbach. Erich. Mimesis. trans. Willard Trask. Princeton. New Jersey: Princeton University Press. 1946. Baldanza. Frank. Iris Murdoch. New York: Twayne Publishers Inc.. 1974. Barfield. Owen. The Rediscover 2; Meaning. Middletown: Wesleyan University ress. 1977- - Savin the Appearances. London: Faber and Faber. 19 7. What Coleridge Thought. Middletown: Wesleyan University Press. 1971. Bellamy. Michael 0. "An Interview With Iris Murdoch." Contemporary Literature 18 (Spring. 1977): 129.140. Benjamin. Walter. Illuminations. trans. Harry Zohn. New York: Harcourt Brace and World. 1955. The Origin.pf German Tragic Drama. trans. John Osborne. Thetford. Norfolk: Lowe and Brydone Printers Ltd.. 1977. Rpflections. trans. Edmund Jephaott. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. 1978. Bloomfield. Morton. ”Allegory as Interpretation." New Literary History 3 (Winter. 1972): 301-17. ‘Borges. Jorge Luis. Other In uisitions. trans. Ruth Simms. Austin: University of Texas Press. 1964. Bradbury. Malcolm. "Iris Murdoch's Under the Net." Critical Quarterly 4 (Spring. 1962): 47-54. Possibilities. London: Oxford University Press. 1973- 232 233 Bruns. Gerald. "Allegory and Satire: A Rhetorical Meditation.” New Literary History 11 (Autumn. 1979): 121. Byatt. A.S. Degpees pf Freedom: The Novels pf Iris Murdoch. London: Barnes and Noble Inc.. 1965. Clifford. Gay. The Transformations pf Allegory. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. 1974. Coleridge. Samuel Taylor. The Collected Works 93 Samuel Taylor Colerid e. Ed. R.J. White. Vol. 6: Lay Sermons. inceton: Princeton University Press. 1972. Cowan. Bainard. "Walter Benjamin's Theor of Allegory." New German Critique 22 (Winter. 1981 : 110-22. Crane. R.S.. et al.. Critics and Criticism: Ancient and Modern. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1952. Croce. Benedetto. Guide pg Aesthetics. trans. Patrick Romanell. South Bend. Indiana: REgnery/Gateway Inc.. 1965. ”On the Nature of Allegory." The Criterion 3 (April. 1925): 405-12. The Poetry pf Dante. trans. Douglas Ainslee. Mamaroneck. New York: PauI P. Appel. 1922. Culler. Jonathan. "Literary History: Allegory and Sem- iology." New Literary History 7 (Winter. 1976): 259-69. Culley. Ann. "Theory and Practice: Characterization in the Novels of Iris Murdoch." Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 1969): 335-45. De Man. Paul. Allegories 93 Reading. New Haven: Yale University Press. 1979- "The Rhetoric of Temporality." Inteppretation: Theory and Practice. Ed. Charles Singleton. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press. 1969. Denham. Robert. Northro Frye and Critical Method. University Park: Pennsylvan1a PFess. 197 . Dinnage. Rosemary. "Inside. Outside." The Times Literary Supplement. September 15. 1980. p. 951. Dipple. Elizabeth. Iris Murdoch: Work for the Spirit. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1982. 2 3L: Empson, William. The Structure 3; Com lex Words. Norfolk. Conn.: James Laughlin. 19E1. Felheim. Marvin. "Symbolic Characterization in the Novels of Iris Murdoch.” Texas Studies in Literature and Langgage 2 (Summer. 1950): 159-977 Fish. Stanley. "A Reply to John Reichert: or How to Stop Worrying and Learn to love Interpretation." Critical Inguiry 6 (Autumn. 1979): 173. Fletcher. Angus. Allegory: The Theor gg‘g Symbolic Mode. Ithaca. New York: Cornell University Press. 196E. . Frank. Joseph. The Widening Gyre. New Brunswick. New Jersey: Rutgers University Press. 1963. Frye. Northrop. Fables of Identity. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. 1933. Gadamer. Hans-Georg. Truth and Method. New York: The Seabury Press. 1975. German. Howard. "Allusions in the Early Novels of Iris Mgrdoch.” Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 1969): 3 1-77- Gerstenberger. Donna. Iris Murdoch. Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press. 1973- Gindin. James. ”Images of Illusion in the Work of Iris Murdoch." Texas Studies in Language and Literature Gombrich. E.H. Symbolic Image . London: Phaidon Press. 1972. Greenblatt. Stephen. Allegory and Representation. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press. 1981. Grossman. Ann. "Icons and Idols in Murdoch's A Severed Hall. James. The Lunatic Giant in the Drawin Room. Bloomington: Indiana UniverSity_P?ess. 19 8. Hall. William F. "Bruno's Dream: Technique and Meaning in the Novels of Iris Murdoch." Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 1969): #29-30. Hamlin. Cyrus. "The Conscience of Narrative: Toward a Hermeneutics of Transcendence." New Literary History 13 (Winter. 1982): 205-30. '— Heinecken. Martin J. The Moment Before God. Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press. 1956. 235 Heyd. Ruth. "An Interview with Iris Murdoch." University g; Windsor Review 1 (Spring. 1965): 138-G3. Honig. Edwin. Dark Conceit. London: Faber and Faber. 1959. Hough. Graham. A Preface 33 the Faerie Queene. London: Gerald Duckworth and Co. Ltd.. 1952. Jameson. Fredric. Marxism and Form. New Jersey: Princeton University Press. 1971. The Political Unconscious. Ithaca. New York: Cornell University Press. 1931. Kaehele. Sharon and Howard German. "The Discovery of Reality in Iris Murdoch's The Bell.” Publications of the Modern Language Association 82 (December. 1937):'§B7-501. Kemp. Peter. "The Flight Against Fantasy: Iris Murdoch's The Red and The Green.” Modern Fiction Studies 15 Kenny. Alice P. "The Mythic History of A Severed Head." 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Berkley: University of Colifornia Press. 19657 Sage. Lorna. "The Pursuit of Imperfection." Critical Quarterly 17 (Summer. 1977): 61-8. Said. Edward. Beginning . New York: Basic Book Publishing. 1975- Schneider. Elizabeth. Samuel Ta lor Coleridg . New York: Holt. Rinehart and Winston. 19 . Scholes. Robert. The Fabulators. New York: Oxford University Press. 19 7. Fabulation and Metafiction. Urbana: University of Illinois Press. 1979. Slade. George. "A Romance for Highbrows.” New York Times Book Review. January H. 1981. PP. 1.19.16. 237 Sullivan. Zohreh T. ”The Contracting Universe of Iris Murdoch's Gothic Novels." Modern Fiction Studies 15 (Autumn. 1969): 557-69- Thompson. P.W. "Iris Murdoch's Honest Puppetry--the Characters of Bruno's Dream." Critical Quarterly 11 (Autumn. 1969): 277-83. Updike. John. ”Worlds and Worlds." The New Yorker 57 (March 23. 1981): 150. Van O'Connor. William. "Iris Murdoch and The Formal and The Contingent." New University Wits and The Egg pi Modernism. 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