WHEN I WAS invited a few months ago to give a lecture on Walker Percy’s novel “The Moviegoer” (New York: Vintage International, A Division of Random House, 1960, pp. 242, $12), I felt that I was sufficiently familiar with Percy’s thought that I did not need to do much research.
However, the small amount of research that I did do was like meeting an old friend. Percy’s insights are so refreshing and profound that I wonder if I did not profit as much from preparing the lecture as those who attended it. I might have been an example, not of “If you become a teacher by your students you will be taught,” but rather, “If you become a teacher, you will receive an education from the material you teach.”
Modern Malaise
One essay that I read in trying to round out my knowledge of Percy that I found especially insightful is “Diagnosing the Modern Malaise.” I found it in a collection of Percy’s writings and talks: “Signposts in a Strange Land” (Edited with an Introduction by Patrick Samway. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, The Noonday Press, 1961, pp. 428, $15). I suppose I like it so much because it says what I strongly believe, and it supports my vocation as a teacher and priest and also my special apostolate of encouraging people to read good literature. For years, I have been trying to get people to read Catholic novels.
By “malaise,” I think that Percy means being lost in everydayness, experiencing the absence of transcendence, being on the verge of despair. I would describe the malaise as the feeling that nothing is of ultimate significance. Percy saw the important role that literature could play in helping people overcome the malaise. He wrote the following:
“For I take it as going without saying that the entire enterprise of literature is like that of a physician undertaken in hope. Otherwise, why would we be here? Why bother to read, write, teach, study, if the patient is already dead? – for, in this case, the patient is the culture itself….
“For, if I believe anything it is that the primary business of literature and art is cognitive, a kind of finding or of knowing and telling, both in good times and bad, a celebration of the way things are when right, and a diagnostic enterprise when they are wrong. The pleasures of literature, the emotional gratification of reader and writer, follow upon and are secondary to the knowing.
Of Critical Importance
“Accordingly, if there has been any one thing I have wanted to leave with students, it is my conviction of the high seriousness, indeed the critical importance, of the profession of letters in this age, whether teaching, writing, scholarship, criticism, or, indeed, reading. In fact, as I shall presently suggest, the cognitive role of literature at the present time, its success or failure, may be more critical than the combined efforts of NASA, Cal Tech, and MIT.” (pp. 306-307)
I agree completely with Percy’s insistence on the importance of literature and I applaud his praise of the importance of reading. I think of the important role that reading has played in my own life and in the lives of several friends. The view that reading a book is like having a conversation with the author appeals to me. We should be ready – and even eager – to allow great authors into our lives.
Even as I am writing this column, memories of great reading experiences are entering my mind. I think of books I read in high school, college, in the seminary, as a young priest, in graduate school and in the many years I have been teaching philosophy. It is impossible to overemphasize the impact that some books have had on me.
Poor Habits
A serious problem that I have noticed and discussed with other college professors is that many college students have very poor reading habits. Many professors have agreed with me that this is a very serious problem. Why don’t they read? Why are they not eager to read great books? Does this have anything to do with the technological revolution that we are living through?
It has become very clear to me that cell phones have become an addiction with many young people. I am not sure what other professors do, but the first day of class I announce that after the opening prayer with which I begin every class, I do not want to see any cell phones. I don’t want them to be visible. I stress this. Of course, this does not solve the problem that cell phones have become for many students, but at least I feel like this is a step in the right direction.
When he was alive, Walker Percy greatly influenced my thinking, and reading Percy’s view of literature and the importance of reading has been like receiving a message from beyond the grave, a message that has motivated me to improve my reading habits. I hope that I can spread the message to others.
Father Lauder is a philosophy professor at St. John’s University, Jamaica, and author of “Pope Francis’ Profound Personalism and Poverty” (Resurrection Press).