Catholic Modernists, English Nationalists.
Sinclair, Peter M.
Catholic Modernists, English Nationalists. By Timothy J. Sutton.
Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2010. ISBN 978-1611491333. Pp.
237. $56.00.
The past decade has witnessed an increasing interest in the
Catholic influence on literature in England in the twentieth century and
the numerous literary figures who converted to Catholicism. Ian
Ker's Catholic Revival in English Literature, 1845-1961 (2003)
examines the relationship between religion and aesthetics in the works
of Catholic converts whereas Joseph Pearce's Literary Converts
(2000) emphasizes conversion narratives. Most of the scholarship on the
Catholic converts assumes that the Catholic revival extended from John
Henry Newman's evangelical work in the nineteenth century. Adam
Schwartz argues in Third Spring: G.K. Chesterton, Graham Greene,
Christopher Dawson, and David Jones (2005) that, facing an era of
religious unbelief, the twentieth century converts built upon
Newman's declaration of a "Second spring" of British
Catholicism with a flesh assertion of Roman Catholicism. In Catholic
Modernists, English Nationalists (2010), Timothy Sutton departs from
previous studies by arguing that Catholic modernism drew its inspiration
from the recusant Catholic tradition, not Cardinal Newman.
According to Sutton, the converts felt a connection to and empathy
for the small group of Catholics who secretly preserved their faith
while maintaining an intense nationalism. Conversion for
twentieth-century British authors meant that they had to abandon
national religion, but "the nature of the English Catholic Church,
with its recusant history, was such that it allowed them to continue to
belong to an organization that at least attempted to function and
express itself in distinctly English terms" (30). With the decline
of the British Empire, "the modernist converts' allegiance to
the Catholic Church provided a substitute myth system" (25). The
converts' desire for a Catholic England was linked to their dreams
for a reinvigorated empire, but Sutton argues that they did not function
as an organized movement. Although they remained uninterested in English
church hierarchy and the Vatican, "these converts proudly
considered themselves Catholic, and their work helped to reintroduce
Catholic literature into English culture" (25).
The book consists of an introduction, five chapters, and a
conclusion. After an introduction in which Sutton sets forth his purpose
and connects the Catholic modernists to a recusant history, chapter one
explores how Gerard Manley Hopkins' work expressed his difficulty
at balancing his nationalism and loyalty to the Jesuit order. Although
Hopkins believed that the survival of empire depended upon a revival in
Catholic literature, Hopkins emphasized "the sacrifices he made for
his country, rather than those he made for his faith" (60) in the
years of his exile in Ireland before his death. Chapter two discusses
Ford Maddox Ford, who "viewed his own conversion as a corrective
act to his parents' decision to leave the Catholic faith"
(86). Since Ford's work emphasized the means by which Catholicism
preserves spiritual and cultural traditions in Europe that deteriorated
after the Reformation, Sutton connects Ford to a recusant history. In
chapter 3, Sutton examines T. S. Eliot, who converted to
Anglo-Catholicism because he believed the Anglican Church's
division from Rome allowed it to maintain a universal character while
functioning in a national framework. Although Eliot claimed in 1936 that
"the Christian world order, is ultimately the only one which, from
any point of view, will work" after the horrors of World War II he
accepted the failure to reinvigorate metanarrative in literature by
constructing a "personal mystical vision" (200) of religion in
Four Quartets. Chapter 4 covers Evelyn Waugh, who could never accept a
compromise between modernism and Catholicism. As the decline of empire
and religion in England became certain after World War II, Waugh
abandoned the stark satire of his earlier work for a more sentimental
and nostalgic tone concerning the loss of landed Catholic aristocracy.
Waugh claimed that Brideshead Revisited was "an obituary of the
doomed English upper class" while Sword of Honour was "an
obituary of the Roman Catholic Church in England as it had existed for
many centuries" (157).
The book culminates in an examination of Graham Greene in chapter
5. The span of Greene's work over the twentieth century allows
Sutton to clarify and expand upon his argument that the converts'
later work developed toward postmodernism. In his interpretation of what
he calls Greene's "postmodern turn" Sutton uses Francois
Lyotard's theory concerning metanarrative to ground his argument
that Greene's work moves beyond the other converts' modernist
sense of loss and nostalgia. According to Lyotard, modernism
"reinforces metanarrative, or a transcendental ideological system
that must be evangelized aggressively" whereas postmodernism
"questions and/or discards the truth and efficacy of
metanarrative" (169). As the converts come to accept their
inability to create a "substitute myth system" for empire out
of Catholicism, Greene's work turns into a petit recit that no
longer asks of religion, "Is it true?" but wonders instead
"what use is it" (195)?
Whereas Greene's early novels from the 1930s until the 1950s
present Catholicism as a metanarrative, his later novels treat the same
subject matter with comedy and irony as opposed to the converts'
tragic sense of cultural loss in England. Part of Greene's ability
to make a postmodern turn resulted from the fact that he never remained
in England long enough to gain any nationalistic sensibilities.
"While Waugh wanted England to return to Catholicism," Sutton
claims, "and Ford argued that the British Empire should guide the
world to peace as nationalism preserved religious and aesthetic culture,
Greene was never tempted by such fantasies" (161). Unlike his
fellow converts, Greene "believed the end of metanarrative is
essential and useful" (194), his novels revealing how faith
entertains a multitude of positions that question assumptions. The
postmodern Catholic in Greene's vision is, like himself, a rootless
man who practices his faith by engaging in political and multicultural
dialogue. Although Greene reveals the irrelevance of a Catholic
metanarrative, he demonstrates that the Catholic faith remains a useful
force in its "important political and moral role in the world, even
when functioning as a petit recit" (195).
Sutton admits that he distinguishes Greene from the other converts
because "he faced a post-metanarrative social reality in a more
developed form than the others" (194). According to Sutton,
however, all of the converts struggled on some level with their failure
to recover religion and tradition in England, and their final works show
how they "accept the demoted place of faith (and empire) while
seeking a reformulation of religious and national identity in the
postmodern world" (195-96). The Catholic modernists' works
reveal more about their dream to make a last stand for Catholicism and
empire than the reality that they could do so. The English army Waugh
depicts in the beginning and end of Brideshead Revisited does not spell
hope for the future of empire, and the altar flame remaining lit in the
derelict chapel that inspires Charles Ryder finally to convert appears
as an ornamental symbol of the immutability of Catholicism.
Sutton's book offers a valuable alternative to the other
studies on the British converts in his exploration of the relationship
between conversion and empire, but his clarification concerning
metanarrative and the advent of postmodernism examined in chapter 5
comes too late. He could have made the first few chapters less
cumbersome in their close readings of nearly every major work by
Hopkins, Ford and Eliot by introducing more of the postmodern issues he
explores later and toward which he draws his conclusion with Greene.
Although he points out how experimentation in both Hopkins' and
Eliot's poetry greatly influenced literary modernism, there remains
more he could say concerning Waugh's and Greene's
experimentation with form that intimates postmodernism. Despite
Sutton's sweeping assessment that Greene's "early novels
never question the metanarrative of Catholicism" (170), Greene
maintained an ironic stance toward dogma in a way that questions
religious truths in his so-called "Catholic" novels of the
1930s and 40s. One suspects, for example, that Greene was often as
playful as he was serious concerning the sacramental nature of suicide
in Brighton Rock and The Heart of the Matter. And as Sutton too briefly
notes, "It remains intriguing, however, that while Waugh was so
rigidly conservative politically and theologically, he both practices
and remained interested in relatively experimental artistic forms"
(158). Indeed, Waugh also maintained an ironic stance toward ideology in
his novels, directing his satire at representatives of empire as
caustically as he does toward agents of modernist chaos. Tony Last in A
Handful of Dust, the spokesperson for empire and tradition in the novel,
remains as much of a buffoon as the agents of modernity he fights. Even
his final novels portray how characters who attempt to revive a bygone
past operate under a dangerous delusion.
Scholars of twentieth-century British converts will find this book
useful as a means by which to think further about how the Catholic
modernists artistically and experimentally contend with a return to
empire that never happened. Waugh and Greene reveal interesting means by
which the converts confront a culture that has already been lost rather
than reviving one that has past. The creative ways in which the converts
contend with a modernist world through irony, satire and tragicomedy
prefigures postmodernism in their effort at creating a Catholic
literature that "can function when Catholicism is preserved as a
petit recit" (201).
Peter M. Sinclair
Southern Connecticut State University