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COPYRIGHT 1993 Johns Hopkins University Press
For a moralizing solution, like any essentializing gesture, serves the ideological function of masking the more difficult cultural and ethicopolitical issues.
Dominick LaCapra, History, Politics, and the Novel
Despite a recent resurgence of interest in his life and in certain of his works, William Godwin remains an elusive and little-noticed figure of English literary and intellectual history. Known as much for his personal links to other figures--to Wollstonecraft, Wordsworth, or Shelley--as for his own writing, Godwin remains largely unread except by specialists in the Jacobin period. At best, other critics may identify Godwin with the eccentric anarchism of his Enquiry Concerning Political Justice or the Gothic histrionics of Caleb Williams. Even if one gives full credit to work by more recent critics, literary criticism is still very far from doing justice to his work as a whole or overcoming long-nurtured suspicions about the quality and significance of much of his writing.
It may in fact be true that Godwin's novels show flashes of dramatic intensity rather than any sustained technical brilliance; his imaginative gifts may indeed be somewhat narrow in scope. Yet because literary history has often relied upon evaluative criteria that fit Godwin's fictional practice poorly, it has tended to reinforce the marginalizing of his work accomplished by the anti-Jacobin reaction in England. That tendency seems all the more regrettable in that Godwin's work has tremendous bearing on issues central to contemporary criticism, such as the relation of ideology to ethics in literature, or the relationship of subjectivity to interpretation and to history. Its narrative anomalies are themselves instructive about the complexity of the problems with which Godwin struggled in trying to shape an aesthetic form adequate to his political and ethical concerns.
To be sure, the past few years have seen a renaissance of Godwin studies that has produced some outstanding analytical work--a renaissance traceable to the seminal work of Burton Pollin on the intellectual coherence of Godwin's ideas, to David McCracken's work on Godwin's literary theories and reedition of Caleb Williams, as well as to the discovery in 1966 of the original, previously unknown ending to Caleb Williams.(1) Since then, however, critical attention has focused almost exclusively on Political Justice and Caleb Williams, virtually neglecting Godwin's other fiction and essays.(2) That focus, though regrettable for the narrow image it gives us of Godwin's lifetime work, does rest on plausible premises, since much of the fascination of Godwin's writing lies in his attempt to reconcile his vision of justice with highly realistic portraits of political psychology, a struggle most evident in the proximity of these two works to each other. Any reestimation of Godwin as a novelist, then, needs to begin by turning our attention back to Caleb Williams. Of particular interest is the way in which Godwin's narrative choices, especially the revised ending, provide a developing commentary on his political values that takes him beyond the assumptions of Political Justice.
My primary argument here is that the tendency of Caleb Williams, and indeed of all of Godwin's fiction, runs fundamentally contrary to the explicit political assumptions and expectations of Political Justice--but, for that very reason, they need to be read in a complementary fashion as parts of a comprehensive perspective. Though Godwin may well have begun this novel hoping to exemplify his political ideals in dramatic form, his own narrative and psychological realism transformed the fiction into a much more sceptical mediation on the possibilities for political amelioration through reason. His careful attention to the working of ideology in an individual mind, Caleb's, led him to complicate his rationalist model of political justice and political change, anticipating the internal critique of his own political theory that comes more and more into evidence in his subsequent writing. To perceive this, however, we need to bear in mind the diverse tendencies present in the novel, and in fact, to read past the moral overtly proffered by Caleb himself.(3) If we attend to its multiple resonances, Godwin's reformulated conclusion has the unexpected effect of abruptly reopening the gulf between politics and ethics, between power and justice, that Godwin's political writings had sought to bridge. It reveals Political Justice as Godwin's most perfect fiction, one whose credibility continues to seduce Caleb even at the moment that he tells us he has ceased to delude himself. Caleb Williams does not so much repudiate that fiction, however, as measure its limits within an existing political and social order.
Recent literary criticism, more so than philosophical and biographical treatments of Godwin, has shown an increasing awareness of the tensions between his novels and his political doctrines.(4) Yet there is still considerable critical work to be done in exploring the complex patterns of this novel if we wish to see exactly how Caleb goes astray, or why the novel, even as revised, fails to carry through Godwin's project of explicating and demonstrating the accessibility of political justice. We can best begin by examining the direct relation of Political Justice to Godwin's reworked ending, the point where he tried hardest to fuse his theoretical and fictional practice. How we choose to interpret Caleb's status there--whether we see Caleb freeing himself from or still deeply entangled in the meshes of political ideology--may well be the single most important feature in shaping our understanding of the text. Though rather less than a hero, Caleb serves as our best measure for how Godwin was transforming his own vision of the possibilities for political change.
II
Godwin's Enquiry Concerning Political Justice and Its Influence on Morals and Happiness suggests already in its title that the author's interest in political matters had a fundamentally ethical basis. As the chapter entitled "of Justice" states, "morality is the source from which its fundamental axioms must be drawn, and they will be made somewhat clearer in the present instance, if we assume the term justice as a general appellation for all moral duty."(5) Indeed, the central claim of Political Justice is that politics--questions of power and government, of ideology and interests, which are rooted in historical circumstances--can be subordinated to ethical considerations--those questions of justice and fairness that ought to be determined objectively by abstract reason. Arguing vigorously against the absurdities of social contract theory, Godwin distinguishes politics from ethics by pointing out that politics inevitably involves the use of force to override countless reservations of particular individuals about specific communal decisions. "Government in reality, as has abundantly appeared, is a question of force, and not of consent. . . . the best constituted government that can be formed, particularly for a large community, will contain many provisions that, far from having obtained the consent of all its members, encounter even in their outset a strenuous, though ineffectual, opposition" (PJ, 1:225-26). We may go along with such decisions, says Godwin, but this adherence demonstrates only indifference, not assent, and we should not allow our private judgment to be silenced. "Obey; this may be right; but beware of reverence. . . . Government is nothing but regulated force; force is its appropriate claim upon your attention. It is the business of individuals to persuade; the tendency of concentrated strength, is only to give consistency and permanence to an influence more compendious than persuasion" (PJ, 1:230).
For these reasons, Godwin argues that we need to reformulate our perception of justice, not so much what it is, but how we can best go about defining and realizing it. This means discovering how human reason might be able to circumvent politics as it has traditionally been understood. Although Political Justice shares the Enlightenment confidence in an eternal, immutable law of reason, it remains sceptical of any invocation of coercive reason in political affairs; its essential political principle asserts the absolute priority of private judgment as that which government needs most urgently to foster. "It may be granted, that an infallible standard, if it could be discovered, would be considerably beneficial." Yet since this cannot be guaranteed, "the conviction of a man's individual understanding, is the only legitimate principle, imposing on him the duty of adopting any species of conduct" (PJ, 1:181).
Why should we assume, however, that rational behavior will actually lead toward social justice without governmental efforts to enforce it? Here lies the crucial assumption of Godwin's argument: that two features intrinsic to rational human motivation, benevolence and impartiality, will ultimately prove able to override considerations of power. Justice requires both capacities, not only a readiness to act in ways that enhance the general welfare, but also the ability to judge in an unbiased way which actions best achieve that aim. Godwin's ethical bias is perhaps most evident in his assumption that these capacities exist and naturally conform to the laws of reason--the sort of analytical move that has driven political theorists to distraction in dealing with him and to frustrated accusations that his philosophy is absurdly utopian and inattentive to practical mechanisms for reform, relying upon the simple "euthanasia of...
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