World as Word: Philosophical Theology in Gerard Manley Hopkins.
Downes, David Anthony
By Bernadette Waterman Ward. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University
of America Press, 2002. ISBN 0-8132-1016-X. Pp. x + 291. $59.95.
After finishing this book, I could not think of any other major
English poets for whom philosophical theology is the underlying
structure of thought in their poems. Gerard Manley Hopkins is unique in
this regard. Of course, there are some writers whose thinking about
reality principles can be traced in their work, but in general poets do
not develop their notions of how they know reality with much systematic
reflection. Bernadette Waterman Ward's book demonstrates that such
is not the case with Hopkins.
Ward opens her study by exorcising the intimidations of
deconstruction propounded by her graduate instructors. She does this not
only because she now holds that such literary theory is destructive of
appropriating literary texts, but also because deconstruction has no
relevance whatsoever to a poet for whom words bridge the realities of
the world. Interestingly, having defined her critical attitudes at the
outset, she ends her book with the same affirming testimony.
Ward's study is basically a compendium of the philosophical
and theological thinking that Hopkins developed over his lifetime. She
takes up the evolution of Hopkins' speculations as he developed
them stage by stage. She draws up accounts of a flowering sensibility in
Hopkins as a youth, his growing and demanding piety, and his thirst to
found his experience on true ideas about the structures of reality. She
shows that what emerged was an enormous capacity for observations of the
external world, a correspondent reading of his interior visions, and a
powerful imaginative capacity to express both his external and interior
perceptions. Ward examines how Hopkins sorted himself out, based upon
the elemental drive of his consciousness, to found his personal
religious and poetic convictions on some intellectual and historical
verities that would stand the test of reason.
The first phase was to define this goal. The next three phases that
Ward examines are those in which Hopkins found information, advice,
perspective, and ideas that helped him eventually to establish his own
understanding of himself, his aspirations, and the natural and
supernatural worlds. He encountered a swirl of attitudes while in
college--some helpful, some distracting, some provocative in the persons
of his teachers and associates. Among these the dominant influences were
John Ruskin on visual truth and John Henry Newman on religious assent.
Ward also exhibits knowledgeably the pattern of attitudes that Hopkins
considered among the Greeks, the Romantics, the Tractarians, the Higher
Critics, and the Materialists before reaching his own conclusions. These
were, in general, that there was truth in ontology; that his religious
personalism, in all of its rich imaginative and passionate intensity,
was also a depository of reality's truth; that poetry (and the
arts) were real apprehensions of the ways in which the world means; and,
most especially, that utterances (words) are licit bridges to grasp and
express meaning about the self and the world. Hence, he affirmed that
poetic words uttered by the imaginative intellect do convey real truths
and that the individualized self is in valid touch with the universe.
Having clearly exposed this foundation of thought, Ward goes on to
examine Hopkins' mature considerations of the self, the
epistemology of "selving" the durability of language, the
nature of religious testimony, the word as sacrament, and the
determinations that philosophers historically had used to find rational
grounds for religious faith.
Her central focus here is John Duns Scotus, the medieval thinker
whose philosophy, in Hopkins' Jesuit educational regimen, was
sidelined by theologian Francisco Suarez's summaries of
Scholasticism. Ward spends her longest chapters on sorting out how
Hopkins adapted Scotus's notions to his own views of human
personality, of cosmological order, of human perception, and of the
meaning of Creation, Incarnation, and Real Presence in sacramental
theology--all of these as perspectives needed to understand what Hopkins
meant by "inscape" and "instress." Along the way
Ward demonstrates how these notions underlie the verbal structures and
formal patterns of many of Hopkins' mature poems, suggesting their
pervasively Scotistic coloring: "His poems are permeated by a
subtle and complex understanding of the relationship between linguistic
structures and the world of experience. At the center of it all is
community between God in the world and his creation, between humans and
the message of God in the world, and especially among humans telling
each other about it" (264).
Generally I agree with Ward's hermeneutic focus and her
analysis of Scotus's influence on Hopkins' literary art.
However, I do not think that her attempt to apply Hopkins' Scotism
to the "Dark Sonnets" adequately helps us to read these very
different poems in his canon. What has changed in these poems is that
the bridge of utterances (words) that Hopkins had built between self and
God could no longer be crossed with the same engagement of feeling and
presence that earlier poems mediated. In these earlier, celebratory
poems nature, in all of its visible and auditory presence, was seen,
felt, and heard as a powerful mediation between his
"inscaping" selfness and God. Self, nature, and God were
"wired" in verbal circuits linking his most discrete
observations and surcharging his powerful spiritual feelings. Through
his poetics Hopkins knew a deeply selved connection with the real world
(Creation), Christ (Incarnation), and the Catholic Eucharist (Real
Presence). In this period of his life, as Ward richly demonstrates,
Hopkins could account hermeneutically for the awareness of self and God
present to him in nature. However, when these lines went down, nature
and God no longer "talked" to him, no longer energized
spiritual communion. Thus God's will darkened for him, and the
integrity of his dual vocations as priest and poet were cast in doubt.
Both words and Word seemed to have receded into a black silence. Being,
God, and self for Hopkins had to have a terminology, a speech audible to
the mind, heart, and soul.
In this spiritual predicament of acedia, any sincere person would
have feelings of self-accusation. In Hopkins' case, however, the
crisis was so overwhelming that he accused himself with the same
intensity of conviction that he employed when spiritual and poetic
mediation flowered. Though as a priest he tried silent suffering, as a
poet he had to vent his "sins" in the wails and despair of the
"Terrible Sonnets." Ward tries to ferret out some struggling
spiritual hope expressed in "I wake and feel" by noting that
Hopkins does not say he was damned but like the damned, ending her
discussion with the comment that "it was in Scotus's ideas
about fulfillment of self that Hopkins finds hope in the 'Terrible
Sonnets'" (239). Her appeal to sacrifice as a spiritual
purgation is one way to delve into this mystery in Hopkins' life.
Others have suggested Ignatian spirituality to understand this religious
calamity. However, just to say that such things can happen in one's
spiritual life is not to account for it in the real circumstances of a
particular life, in this case the life of a man with an extraordinarily
powerful religious and poetic consciousness.
However we account for these last poems, we must start, I think,
with the awareness that they represent and express a collapse of
Hopkins' religious consciousness so that, as a poet, he was left to
talk mainly to himself about this breakdown in his religious selving.
God was not in the mediative circuit but rather far off, as a younger
Hopkins described in "Nondum":
God, though to Thee our psalm we raise,
No answering voice comes from the skies;
To Thee the trembling sinner prays,
But no forgiving voice replies;
Our prayer seems lost in desert ways.
Our hymn in the vast silence dies.
Later cries for the "instress" of hope are not like the
first cries. The earlier ones were for finding God; the later ones are
are about losing God. Perhaps God would hear and reply, perhaps not. We
are left with this enigma in reflecting on Hopkins' religio-poetic
consciousness in these dramatic poems of suffering and sorrow.
Ward's study of the philosophical and theological substratum of Hopkins' poetry is a valuable contribution to research on
Hopkins. Her scholarship is wide and solid. Although the focuses are not
new, their fresh assembly is lucid and their application to Hopkins
firmly demonstrated. The exposition of Scotus's influence is
especially rich and suggestive in understanding the interactive dynamic
of "selving" in Hopkins' writings. I also liked the
author's personalized conclusion in which she recalls a philosopher
professor, to whom she was explaining the dense epistemic details of
Matthew Arnold's poetics, finally asking, "'But tell me
this: do you love Arnold?'" Ward notes that his question
changed the relationship between literature and "selving":
"[T]he answer, though I did not know it then, was a turning point
in my life" (266). This scholar clearly loves Hopkins.
David Anthony Downes
California State University, Chico