Literature and Theology: New Interdisciplinary Spaces.

Jimenez, Matthew J.

Literature and Theology: New Interdisciplinary Spaces. Edited by Heather Walton. Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2011. ISBN 978-1-4094-0011-0. Pp. v-219. $78.31

In the book Literature and Theology: New Interdisciplinary Spaces, the authors set out to demonstrate the opportunity for a relationship between literature and theology. While this union is not a simple one, the essays seek to show the many varieties of ways that such interdisciplinary work can be achieved. Instead of going through each article individually, this review shall briefly examine the main themes of this collection of essays and show the positive and negative aspects of this book.

One way that the new interdisciplinary spaces manifest themselves comes from making a clear distinction between theology and literature. Too many interdisciplinary studies involve the consumption of one discipline into the other. This is particularly true of theology where art and literature simply serve as didactic tools. Therefore in his article "Touch and Trembling," Mark Godin writes that theology "imperialistically absorbs the story of others into itself, reorganizing the world through appropriation" (156). Rather than allow one discipline to control the other, he claims that they must equip a sense of "vulnerability" (157) in order to listen and learn from their respective positions, since one discipline oftentimes desires to dominate the other. David Jasper then posits the term "intradisciplinarity" (9) in place of interdisciplinary. He defines this term as "exploring ways in which a work of literature--a poem or a novel--in its own right, not necessarily so much by what it says as by how it says it or how it plays its games, can illuminate the way in which we think" (9). Literature has its own way of expressing religious ideas from which theologians could learn. Moreover, such a perspective allows for new ideas to come forth and challenge and support preconceived notions. Of course, this relationship works both ways. Thus, Heather Walton declares that "a tension must remain between these worlds" (43). This "tension" prevents absorption and dominance and creates a relationship of difference between literature and theology. However, the essays avoid a quick joining of the disciplines and posit a "negotiation between comprehension and disruption" (Vincent 58). This tension then serves as a preservation of the space for real possibility for interdisciplinary dialogue. Theology must allow for actual criticism and vision from literature. The authors stress a sort of equality between the disciplines. In his article "Silence, Rupture, Theology," Mattias Martinson explains that "theology becomes one of the cultural sciences,' nothing more, nothing less" (78). This equality avoids polarizing arguments like the one between John Milbank and Slavoj Zizek (68-70) and allows for a freer space of mutual respect. Therefore the authors admonish the readers to rethink their approaches and any overly simplistic notions about the interaction between literature and theology and to reexamine the way that the argument has been structured. This is why they state that theologians need to be careful in their appropriation of modernist and post-modernist ideas.

The articles also reexamine the theories of modernism. In order to illustrate the situation, Andrew W. Hass compares Copernicus' discoveries with the change in perspective about truth and knowledge (22). During the premodern era, truth and knowledge stemmed from a single source and opened out onto the world (geocentric); however, with Copernicus, knowledge ceased to belong to a single root and began to stand without (heliocentric). Hass states that "with the modern turn, knowledge lost any such integration and harmony.... Each sphere [of knowledge] became open-ended, with infinite transformative possibilities" (20). One discipline no longer holds the key to the others. Instead, there are new ways of engaging truth. Moreover, truth is found without the world like the sun. Such distinctions play a role in theological aesthetics and natural theology.

When dealing with literature and the arts, many theologians often turn to Theological Aesthetics or a Natural Theology. As John O'Connor mentions in his article "Theological Aesthetics and Beauty as Revelatory," "[A] necessary condition for beauty as revelatory of depths of reality, leading us to God, is that beauty be radiant of truth and goodness" (114). Beauty then points to the Creator; however, O'Connor notes how Immanuel Kant's views serve as a critique of the views of Hans Urs von Balthasar and Jacques Maritain's. In fact, Balthasar had reservations about the aesthetical writings of Immanuel Kant. Kant believed that Beauty was something that everyone agreed upon, while taste was a matter of personal preference. Many theologians typically appeal to natural theology in order to support the relationship between art and theology. O'Connor explains that Kant's distinction between beauty and truth creates "opposing positions regarding the relationship between beauty and truth, and beauty and goodness" (115). Furthermore, Paul S. Fiddes notes that Kant's aesthetic judgment opens up a space for the "negative sublime" (133). By appealing to philosopher and author Iris Murdoch along with theologian David Bentley Hart, beauty and the sublime are different things. For Fiddes, the sublime is "an irruptive event" (127), or what Kant calls a "marvel" (130). It "arises on the borders of representation, when human words and images fail and fall to nothing" (149). It is the ramifications of this distinction that O'Connor believes Balthasar and Maritain too quickly overlooked. Both O'Connor and Fiddes reappraise Kant in order to demonstrate the value of his argument for the discussion of interdisciplinary studies. Even though both authors realize the problems with Kant, they both believe that he can be beneficial to the discussion and assert that he has been somewhat caricatured by his opponents. His negative sublime serves as an allowance of darker elements within beauty. However, the sublime stands outside of rational arguments. As Fiddes puts it, "Theology, against much of the drift of postmodern thinking, must affirm the reality of truth and goodness in the beauty of the world. But it may also find validity in the experience of the sublime" (149). Thus, like Kant, the subjective can support the objective. The last theme of these articles deals with the Other.

The postmodern era has opened the door for minority voices to be heard (thanks to Levinas and Derrida). In this text, the other voices come from women as well as Caribbean literature. In the essay "Re-imagining the Sacred in Caribbean Literature," Fiona Darroch discusses the origins of the terms sacred and profane. Each term comes from the modern era (100). She explains that '"the sacred' came to be constituted as a mysterious, mythic thing, the focus of moral and administrative disciplines" (101). Such a use of sacred and profane creates tendencies of domination despite recent post-colonial studies. Therefore, she warns the reader about the dangers of essentializing experience into elusive categories" (109). She asserts that such a view creates a new form of colonialism and stifles the true voices of the event. Letting voices--includes the voices of women--be heard is a consistent theme.

Appealing to Simone de Beauvoir, Allison Jasper refuses to define women as '"the Other' of man" (82) claiming that such a description robs women of autonomy. She then turns to Jane Leade, a "Christian prophetess, visionary and writer" (94) during the Puritan era in England. Her use of Leade demonstrates that women have their own "creative presence within the Christian centuries that needs to be taken seriously" (94). This even crops up in Pamela Sue Anderson's essay "A Story of Love and Death," which notes Simone de Beauvoirs struggle to find a voice within the philosophical community (170). All of these others now find a space to reveal their valuable creative resources with the literary and theological community.

The articles offer serious engagement with philosophical and literary theorists, such as Slavoj Zizek, Terry Eagleton, Julia Kristeva, and Helene Cixous, just to name a few. Furthermore, the text gives measured criticisms of several theologians, such as Hans Urs von Balthasar, Karl Barth, John Milbank, and David Bentley Hart. Keep in mind that the authors treat every thinker with respect and their ideas with dignity and intelligence. However, in a book about the relationship between literature and theology, the book does not concede to the typical turn to natural theology. Instead, it offers a way to take seriously the developments during the Enlightenment and Postmodernism. This is a difficult task given the length of the essays; however, each author contributes to the argument without oversimplification. As stated above, some of the ideas found in the articles are quite creative, such as Hass' use of astronomical developments as a stand-in for the development of truth and knowledge. Nonetheless, the essays refrain from viewing modernism (and postmodernism) as some kind of mistake. They would rather work through those developments and appreciate the many developments caused by the Enlightenment. Nevertheless, the book has a few issues which should be discussed.

While the book deals with the interdisciplinary space between theology and literature, it never quite defines what that actually means. Perhaps the book should have been titled New Possibilities for Interdisciplinary Spaces. Nevertheless, the book offers a wide array of perspectives attempting to find a means of expressing the beneficial relationship between these two disciplines. The book never quite nails down what interdisciplinary studies looks like; it presents the reader with many options. In fact, this might be the best part of the book. By presenting the relationship between theology and literature in a less defined manner, these essays avoid what may be a rush to join the two disciplines. Furthermore, the essays refrain from turning literature into a tool for theology. Oftentimes, literature becomes merely a didactic instrument for theological explanation. While this may be an overly simplistic description, David Cunningham's book Reading Is Believing (2002) falls under that category. Granted, Cunningham attempts to use literature in a way akin to Martha Nussbaum (e.g., literature can create empathy for the reader and open up other means of understanding preconceived notions about life, justice, etc.); nevertheless, literature does not stand as its own thing. Pamela Sue Anderson's essay "A Story of Love and Death" appears misplaced in this collection. Although its ideas are intriguing and it is not completely irrelevant, the essay seems to lack a connection to the overall gist of the collection.

For anyone interested in the relationship between literature and theology, this book will be a benefit and welcome addition, although it is an academic work which assumes some philosophical knowledge and interest in theological aesthetics, feminist philosophy, and post-colonial studies.

Matthew J. Jimenez

Fuller Seminary