Book Review Intellectuals

BOOK REVIEW DR MICHAEL REID

i n t e l l ec t u a l s A BOOK BY PA U L J O H N S O N ( L O N D O N : P H O E N I X P R E S S , 1 9 8 8 )

The British historian and journalist Paul Johnson must rank as one of today’s truly great writers. Among his major works are A History of the Jews (1987), Modern Times: A History of the World from the 1920s to the year 2000 (1983), The Birth of the Modern (1991), A History of the American People (1998), and the subject of this review, the 1988 classic, Intellectuals. This is neither his most recent nor his most famous work, but Intellectuals will always be a compelling book. It is an exposé of influential thinkers, starting with Jean Jacques Rousseau in the 18th century, and how they have decisively shaped modern life. His list of subjects is selective but representative: Rousseau, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Karl Marx, Hendrik Ibsen, Leo Tolstoy, Ernest Hemingway, Bertolt Brecht, Bertrand Russell, Jean-Paul Sartre, Edmund Wilson, Victor Gollancz, and Lillian Hellman. In each case, Johnson gets behind the public persona to explore not only the ideas for which these people are famous, but their family and other relationships, as well as their moral and psychological outlook.

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Despite the vast chronological period and artistic and intellectual talent represented in this group, there is, he discovers, a remarkable similarity in worldview and personal disposition. He reminds us of a profound and self-evident fact easily overlooked: “It is one of the themes of this book that the private lives and the public postures of leading intellectuals cannot be separated: one helps to explain the other. Private vices and weaknesses are almost invariably reflected in conduct on the world stage.” (274) Johnson has immersed himself in the writings of his subjects and their wider activities. He readily acknowledges their craft, brilliance and shrewdness and not just their foibles. He draws the reader into an understanding of our common humanity—a reality so often lacking in the minds and activities of intellectuals, most of whom believed themselves to be superior. A classic example of this trait was Bertrand Russell. According to Johnson, for whom mathematics was a specialist and esoteric pursuit:

Russell never believed that the populace could or should be encouraged to penetrate the frontiers of knowledge. His professional work in mathematics was carried out in a highly technical manner, making not the smallest concession to the non-specialist. Philosophical speculation, he argued, should be conducted in a special language and he fought not only to retain but to strengthen this hieratic code. He was a high priest of the intellect, forbidding outsiders to penetrate the arcane. (199) This fits with other revelations. For Russell, rationalism made it easier to reject the transcendent and distance himself from any need to be involved in the lives of ordinary people. Like other intellectuals, he was passionate about humanity rather than loving his neighbour. He offered advice on a staggering range of topics but never knew how to love, either sexually or in genuine friendship. Russell’s treatment of those close to him was deplorable, but this is another thread running through the lives of many

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Paul Johnson’s book Intellectuals is an exposé of influential thinkers. A “must read” if you want to gain insight into the people who have so decisively shaped modern life.

He invented, in fact, an intellectual of a new kind, rather as Rousseau or Byron had in their times. Brecht’s new-model egghead, for whom he himself was the prototype, was harsh heartless, cynical, part gangster, part sports heavy. He wanted to bring to the theatre the raucous, sweaty, violent atmosphere of the sports arena… He rejected the Austro-German musical tradition in favour of a metallic, repetitive sound, finding a kindred spirit in the Jewish composer Kurt Weill, with whom he collaborated. (175)

intellectuals, including Rousseau, Marx and Sartre to name a few. While he would have been aware of it, Russell was unable to live up to Kant’s moral imperative: Treat other people as an end in themselves rather than as a means to an end. His life was littered with sexual liaisons, both with upper class women— he was after all “Lord Russell”— and, if the fancy took him or the opportunity presented itself, with maidservants and chambermaids. Others, especially the Marxistinspired intellectuals, tried to identify with the proletariat by rejecting Western civilisation with every means at their disposal. The playwright Bertolt Brecht, for example, typically repudiated both his family and any allegiance to the Christian faith. In the tumultuous post1918 period in Germany, he was quickly able to establish himself as a literary figure: first as a critic, feared for his rudeness, savagery and cruelty, then within the theatre itself. Johnson notes:

Other intellectuals present very sad lives characterised more by pathos than heroism. Hemingway, for example, stands as one of the 20th century’s greatest writers, but his other great loves of alcohol and big game hunting combined to hasten his demise: he shot two of everything in his lifetime—and eventually himself. Of all the intellectuals considered in this book, Hemingway stands above the others in the vituperation of his staunchly religious parents. Then there were Rousseau, the

evidence - summer 2003 - www.maxim.org.nz

secular saint who considered himself nothing less than the most virtuous individual who has ever lived—that unique status qualifying him to offer high-minded advice to everyone on how to live their lives—and the Norse playwright Henrik Ibsen, who was so desperate for recognition he made it is his business to collect—and expect—medals: There was one aspect of Ibsen’s vanity which verged on the ludicrous. Even his most uncritical admirers found it hard to defend. He had a lifelong passion for medals and orders. In fact, he went to embarrassing lengths to get them. Ibsen had a certain skill in drawing and often sketched these tempting baubles. His first surviving cartoon features the Order of the Star. He would draw the ‘Order of the House of Ibsen’ and present it to his wife. What he really wanted however were decorations for himself. He got his first in the summer of 1869 when a conference of intellectuals—a new, and some would argue, sinister innovation on the intellectual scene—was held in Stockholm

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book review: intellectuals

to discuss language. It was the first time Ibsen had been lionized: he spent an evening drinking champagne at the royal palace with King Carl XV, who presented him with the Order of Vasa. Later, Georg Brandes, on his first meeting with Ibsen was amazed to find him wearing it at home. (88) Of Marx, Johnson points out his own inept financial dealings and debt, his squalor and unkempt appearance, and

of dulling or expunging the humility that’s so necessary for balanced relationships and authentic living. Johnson asks, “what conclusions can be drawn?” to which he answers: The belief seems to be spreading that intellectuals are no wiser as mentors, or worthier as exemplars, than the witch doctors or priests of old. I share that scepticism. A dozen people picked at

This book sounds a timely warning for us in New Zealand. As a society we tend to see intellectuals—particularly those from far away places—as “experts”.

total unwillingness to mix with and genuinely understand “the proletariat” (the workers) of whom he wrote so passionately. This book sounds a timely warning for us in New Zealand. As a society we tend to see intellectuals—particularly those from far away places—as “experts”. Moreover, unlike years past, most of our present government is composed of intellectuals in some shape or form. They are vulnerable to the trap of so many who have gone before, that is, of their own megalomania and tendency to advise the rest of us with their self-proclaimed “superior” theories and wisdom. And it’s not just politicians or academics, but artists, entrepreneurs, writers and performers. Fame has a habit

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random on the street are at least as likely to offer sensible views on moral and political matters as a crosssection of the intelligentsia. But I would go further. One of the principal lessons of our tragic century, which has seen so many millions of innocent lives sacrificed in schemes to improve the lot of humanity, is—beware intellectuals. Not merely should they be kept well away from the levers of power, they should be the objects of particular suspicion when they seek to offer collective advice…Distrust public statements issued from their serried ranks…far from being highly individualistic and non-conformist people, [they] follow certain regular patterns of behaviour. Taken as a group, they are often ultra-conformist

within the circles formed by those whose approval they seek and value. That is what makes them en masse so dangerous, for it enables them to create climates of opinion and prevailing orthodoxies, which themselves often generate irrational and destructive courses of action. (342) Another reason prominent intellectuals are dangerous is because their ideas exert an influence long after they themselves have died. Rousseau’s novel Emile, for example, presents the intuitive learner freed from tradition and authority. This has had an enormous impact on childcentred learning in the 20th century, from John Dewey right through to Carl Rogers. Similarly, Marx’s antagonism between groups is so much a feature of contemporary political life that it’s difficult to see how things could be different; while Sartre’s existentialism has been a key conduit for post-modern relativism. We are not to fall into the trap of seeing knowledge and wisdom as synonymous. They are not. The former is mere abstraction, while the latter is grounded in everyday life. We need both. The author is in no way disrespectful of scholarly endeavour, only of what it can do when ideas rather than people become paramount. Readers are unlikely to agree with all Johnson’s assessments, but overall, this is an objective and very well-written account. A must read.

evidence - summer 2003 - www.maxim.org.nz