Samuel Butler
How better to begin a new year and new decade than with a healthy dose of sarcastic, biting satire wrapped in a nice conceit? I figured so, at least, and began the year with Samuel Butler's biting yet dated Erewhon. Beginning as so many Victorian samples do with a nested conceit assuring the reader that the fllowing astonishing account is, in fact, absolutely true. This sets up an evocative, but somewhat boring, account of the man's overland journey to Erewhon, an expansive human-controlled kingdom as yet undiscovered and possessing a rich cultural heritage of its own. The form and plot, such as it is, are serviceable though small semblances of plot often go missing for several pages during Butler's own intense intellectual journeys into satirical jabs at Victorian society. These are well-constructed and sufficiently thought out to apply even to our own time; Butler's vision of mechanical evolution and the rights of animals and plants, ostensibly penned by Erewhonian philosophers, are at once scathing and intriguing, particularly in an age when computer sentience seems to be on the horizon.
Though much of the satirical elements in Erewhon are dated and lost among the large patches of dull prose, some of it cuts through and is quite hilarious in its send-up of Victorian manners and, indeed, our own continuing follies. I am sure there is a relevant and witty satire of the institutions of religion in the Musical Banks and the peculiar Erewhonian treatment of crime as a disease and disease as a crime has gained new relevance in our age of never-ending mental disorders and chemical advances in neuroscience. Most biting is the criticism of institutions of higher learning; indeed, they do seem like Colleges of Unreason and though Latin is undeniably important to a select group of scholars, I am with Butler in thinking that teaching hypothetical languages to every student may not be the most effective use of higher education and skyrocketing tuition bills. The conceit, while obviously a thin narrative framework constructed to support the satire, does come to a hilarious end when the narrator begins to embody those characteristics he seemed to despise in the Erewhonians, displaying equal or greater foolishness than the misguided future converts. Even better, however, is his growing desperation amidst fears that his plan to profit off of Erewhon will be usurped by a pretender. Here the conceit works, for the first time, perfectly, proving that good satire can coexist with such rarities as plot and character. Erewhon is well worth reading for its jabs at Victorian culture, but will be best appreciated by those with a background in that culture or with accompanying introductions to ground the time-tied cultural criticism that makes the bulk of the book.
Grade: B
Though much of the satirical elements in Erewhon are dated and lost among the large patches of dull prose, some of it cuts through and is quite hilarious in its send-up of Victorian manners and, indeed, our own continuing follies. I am sure there is a relevant and witty satire of the institutions of religion in the Musical Banks and the peculiar Erewhonian treatment of crime as a disease and disease as a crime has gained new relevance in our age of never-ending mental disorders and chemical advances in neuroscience. Most biting is the criticism of institutions of higher learning; indeed, they do seem like Colleges of Unreason and though Latin is undeniably important to a select group of scholars, I am with Butler in thinking that teaching hypothetical languages to every student may not be the most effective use of higher education and skyrocketing tuition bills. The conceit, while obviously a thin narrative framework constructed to support the satire, does come to a hilarious end when the narrator begins to embody those characteristics he seemed to despise in the Erewhonians, displaying equal or greater foolishness than the misguided future converts. Even better, however, is his growing desperation amidst fears that his plan to profit off of Erewhon will be usurped by a pretender. Here the conceit works, for the first time, perfectly, proving that good satire can coexist with such rarities as plot and character. Erewhon is well worth reading for its jabs at Victorian culture, but will be best appreciated by those with a background in that culture or with accompanying introductions to ground the time-tied cultural criticism that makes the bulk of the book.
Grade: B
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