Good to see you bring your ad-man background to the conversation, Henry—this is strictly a compliment—and, of course, a reference to David Galenson! Seriously, we could use more of your insights in debates about public funding for the arts, and the business of philanthropy.
I feel ashamed to say I was only aware superficially of Helen DeWitt and her work, but your description of her as a genius and the best novelist around has made me just buy her last samurai novel.
I feel huge affection for her just for her actions here. I am on Team Helen.
I'm going to push back on Henry's arguments a bit, but in the spirit of the "loyal opposition" who would love to see literature flourish. As a total outsider who has only read a few of her short stories, the Helen DeWitt situation seems strange for two reasons.
First, if so many literary experts love Helen DeWitt so much, why can't they just give her money themselves? Are there not 100 readers of taste willing to chip in $1000 for her? 10 people willing to chip in $10,000 for her? If not, well, how much do they *really* love Helen DeWitt? Revealed preferences and all that! Are her appreciators all horrifically liquidity constrained?
Put that objection aside; assume you need a "wealthy" patron, for some definition of wealthy. It's not like there's no wealthy philanthropists around, so why don't any of them want to give Helen DeWitt money? I think it's fair to say they don't see the value of funding a novelist versus other kinds of charitable giving. Literary experts are going to have to argue that Helen DeWitt novels have real value; comparable to that of, say, spending another $100,000 on mosquito nets. But it seems to me that literary people are either unable or unwilling to argue in these terms! This puts them at a tremendous disadvantage.
I read about half of The Last Samurai 6 months ago, and I’ve never loathed a book or the impression of its author I’ve gleaned from one as much. Dewitt seems to believe that things like the mastery of Ancient Greek (so as to read Homer in the original) or knowledge of Japanese are in themselves remarkable achievements, perversely undervalued by society. The book felt like a thinly-veiled expression of rage and frustration at her own inability to find financial stability and/or success, which, again, she seemed to blame society for.
What was missing was any understanding of why education or learning might be valuable - not to enable the reading of old texts in the original for the sake of doing so, but in order to discover new truths about human life and the world. I felt Dewitt had nothing at all to say about the actual value of education in a deeper sense; all that matters is that one knows lots of stuff, ideally stuff most others don’t.
I loved the book, and agree with Henry that it's a great or near-great novel. But I understand what you're saying here. I didn't experience the book in the same way, probably because I didn't assume Sibylla was some kind of stand-in for the author (although there are obvious parallels between the two, given what we know of DeWitt's biography).
Yes, what I was able to learn about her own biography, what she writes in her afterword, and what I recall seeing her say in an interview someplace (Paris Review maybe?) gave me the impression that, whether the character is intended as a self-insert or not, the core intended message about the nature of learning/education seemed to be something like “it’s bad/sad that people like Sibylla and Ludo are undervalued by society,” but the book failed (or, really, neglected to even try) to convince me of their value. She may be willing to grant that some aspects of what happens to Ludo/Sibylla are not great, or that their merits are debatable at least, but I think it’s clear that she is not inclined that way.
Good to see you bring your ad-man background to the conversation, Henry—this is strictly a compliment—and, of course, a reference to David Galenson! Seriously, we could use more of your insights in debates about public funding for the arts, and the business of philanthropy.
Thank you :)
I feel ashamed to say I was only aware superficially of Helen DeWitt and her work, but your description of her as a genius and the best novelist around has made me just buy her last samurai novel.
I feel huge affection for her just for her actions here. I am on Team Helen.
Victoria and Hilary Menos discussing this very subject, viz. bureaucratic compromise vs. individual taste. https://substack.com/home/post/p-192932100
David Ogilvy was fond of quoting Chesterton: "I've searched all the parks in all the cities and found no statues of committees."
I had a feeling you were a scholar and a gentleman: this article and your appreciation of The Last Samurai confirms it!
I'm going to push back on Henry's arguments a bit, but in the spirit of the "loyal opposition" who would love to see literature flourish. As a total outsider who has only read a few of her short stories, the Helen DeWitt situation seems strange for two reasons.
First, if so many literary experts love Helen DeWitt so much, why can't they just give her money themselves? Are there not 100 readers of taste willing to chip in $1000 for her? 10 people willing to chip in $10,000 for her? If not, well, how much do they *really* love Helen DeWitt? Revealed preferences and all that! Are her appreciators all horrifically liquidity constrained?
Put that objection aside; assume you need a "wealthy" patron, for some definition of wealthy. It's not like there's no wealthy philanthropists around, so why don't any of them want to give Helen DeWitt money? I think it's fair to say they don't see the value of funding a novelist versus other kinds of charitable giving. Literary experts are going to have to argue that Helen DeWitt novels have real value; comparable to that of, say, spending another $100,000 on mosquito nets. But it seems to me that literary people are either unable or unwilling to argue in these terms! This puts them at a tremendous disadvantage.
Simple market failure? Not so unusual?
I read about half of The Last Samurai 6 months ago, and I’ve never loathed a book or the impression of its author I’ve gleaned from one as much. Dewitt seems to believe that things like the mastery of Ancient Greek (so as to read Homer in the original) or knowledge of Japanese are in themselves remarkable achievements, perversely undervalued by society. The book felt like a thinly-veiled expression of rage and frustration at her own inability to find financial stability and/or success, which, again, she seemed to blame society for.
What was missing was any understanding of why education or learning might be valuable - not to enable the reading of old texts in the original for the sake of doing so, but in order to discover new truths about human life and the world. I felt Dewitt had nothing at all to say about the actual value of education in a deeper sense; all that matters is that one knows lots of stuff, ideally stuff most others don’t.
I loved the book, and agree with Henry that it's a great or near-great novel. But I understand what you're saying here. I didn't experience the book in the same way, probably because I didn't assume Sibylla was some kind of stand-in for the author (although there are obvious parallels between the two, given what we know of DeWitt's biography).
I wrote a very positive review of it, but I also gave my own reasons why someone might hate the book: https://lakefrontreview.substack.com/p/the-last-samurai-by-helen-dewitt
Yes, what I was able to learn about her own biography, what she writes in her afterword, and what I recall seeing her say in an interview someplace (Paris Review maybe?) gave me the impression that, whether the character is intended as a self-insert or not, the core intended message about the nature of learning/education seemed to be something like “it’s bad/sad that people like Sibylla and Ludo are undervalued by society,” but the book failed (or, really, neglected to even try) to convince me of their value. She may be willing to grant that some aspects of what happens to Ludo/Sibylla are not great, or that their merits are debatable at least, but I think it’s clear that she is not inclined that way.