Main NI Index | Main Newspaper Index

Encyclopedia of Trotskyism | Marxists’ Internet Archive


The New International, July 1947

 

Calder Willingham

The Problem of “Political” Literature

Koestler, Orwell and Schneider

 

From The New International, Vol. 13 No. 5, July 1947, pp. 148–150.
Transcribed & marked up by Einde O’Callaghan for ETOL.

 

In preface to a few words about Isidor Schneider’s recent novel [1], it might be worth while to consider first the “political novel” as a literary form and, second, specifically such works as Darkness at Noon and Animal Farm and, third, the relationship of these works to The Judas Time, which is ostensibly presented as a counter-statement to them, as well as a counter-statement to left anti-Stalinists generally.

The so-called political (or journalistic-political) novel can be seen as merely the proletarian novel with surface differences. The assumptions of the political novel are those of the proletarian novel, among them: truth is an absolute and therefore a simple quality; human beings should be treated in terms of political category; thus, social and personal ambiguities are irrelevant. The spirit of fiction, which is its explorative quality, disappears or is minimized to the point of banality.

Considered in its political effects, Darkness at Noon can be characterized as an anti-Stalinist work that has helped Stalinism a great deal. The book is anti-Stalinist in intention but pro-Stalinist in results; the question of course hinges on the character, Rubashov. A lesson to be learned from Rubashov is this: opposition to Stalinism, from a socialist point of view, amounts to Stalinist activity by definition. In other words, socialism and Stalinism are twin fiends out of the same witch – history, evil by definition. As Peter Loumos pointed out (The New International, August 1945), here is the key to Rubashov’s demoralization and defeat – Rubashov is his own cannibal and he ate himself up. So do all socialists who oppose Stalinism, it must be concluded. This is exactly the text of the most strenuous and mountainous propaganda campaign ever built by the Stalinists; and the question it poses is beyond doubt the most immediate of the times.

But Irving Howe, in an answering letter (The New International, October 1946), disagrees with Loumos’ attitude, and criticizes him sharply. Howe refers to Koestler’s literary abilities, speaking of the writer’s remarkable gift to “touch the heart of the modern problem,” of Koestler’s work on the whole as being “dialectical exercises in idea-moods,” and of the essays of The Yogi and the Commissar as “politics-in-metaphor.” Howe himself is quite aware of the political weaknesses of Koestler; Howe would agree that every pressure – politically and journalistically speaking – demanded a resolution of the Moscow Trials, that Darkness at Noon is falsely presented as that resolution. Howe himself is aware that neither Rubashov nor the actual figures in court were the subject of the Moscow Trials. But Howe forgives Koestler on the basis of literary appreciation: “touch the heart of the modern problem,” “idea-moods,” “politics-in-metaphor.” The language of this appreciation indicates empty phrasemaking and confusion, not comprehensible literary feeling. We must offer the following contradictory estimate of Koestler’s art.

It is suggested that the book, Darkness at Noon, differs in sophistication and intention from the proletarian novel, but not in fictional methods. Like the proletarian novelist, Koestler treats human beings in the light of political category – despite pretentious “complexities.” He inserts truths as a series of frozen formulae. The consequence is that dramatic ambiguities in Koestler’s work are contrived, and by this token emtional resolutions fiat, lifeless. Koestler’s principal sustaining qualities are, first, a reportorial sincerity, which expresses, but does not dynamically project, his own personal fears and, second, a smooth glibness and, third, a quality that can be described as a nose for news.

But then Irving Howe offers an additional reason for rejecting the criticisms made by Loumos. Howe says: “Loumos condemned Koestler for not writing a novel which Koestler never intended to write.” But is intention always sacrosanct? Howe himself characterizes Koestler as a “skillful novelist journalist.” Then why is a skillful novelist-journalist permitted to ignore journalistic responsibilities toward fact? The same justification could be found for Isidor Schneider’s The Judas Time – Schneider merely didn’t intend to write the full truth about American anti-Stalinists. No more than Koestler intended to write the full truth about the Moscow Trials.

A similar criticism to that of Darkness at Noon can be made of Orwell’s Animal Farm. But in this book at least, George Orwell is certainly inferior to Koestler. Orwell is really so bad in Animal Farm that as an artist he bears comparison to Walt Disney. The quality of Orwell’s fantasy, as fantasy, is close to that of the fantasies of Disney; Orwell furthermore treats the characters of his animals with as much political rigidity as Disney treats with social rigidity the characters of his animals. Animal Farm can be viewed as a derivative of both Walt Disney and of proletarian art. But Orwell’s political message is far more blunt than that of Koestler. In brief, that political message is this: Marx-Lenin can be seen as a pig, and socialism as animalism, or piggery. Naturally it follows that this piggery is (and ought to be) dominated eventually by Stalin, the biggest hog of them all. Again, here is anti-Stalinism from the point of view of reaction. To the extent that it might demoralize socialist energy it is helpful to Stalinism.

Isidor Schneider’s novel is not a counter-statement to Koestler and Orwell in the sense intended. Schneider’s book is a counter-statement, nevertheless. Schneider has done the opposite of what apparently he was trying to do, which was to write a pro-Stalinist book that would “answer” all socialist or leftist anti-Stalinists, as well as, ironically, the reactionary anti-Stalinists, Koestler and Orwell. The Judas Time, by its nature, will have an anti-Stalinist effect. It will emancipate as many people, perhaps, from Stalinism as Koestler and Orwell have unwittingly sold into reaction.
 

II.

In The Judas Time, truth is absolute, and therefore simple. Human beings are treated in terms of political category, and in this work social and personal ambiguities are irrelevant. Schneider’s crudity takes away all camouflage, exposing the result that awaits the writer who approaches fiction with contempt for the nature of fiction.

First, The Judas Time might be examined as a political document. Here the symbolic prologue is interesting. This symbolic prologue gives a new account of Judas Iscariot. The New Testament states that Judas betrayed Christ for silver, then hanged himself for shame. However, Schneider’s imperialist Roman soldier says that Judas betrayed Christ for principle – accepting thirty pieces of silver because he had originally given that to Christ’s movement – and that he then retired to an estate run by his own “peasants and herdsmen,” where he mellowed and lived a cultivated life. Now, the principle of Judas’ betrayal was this: he noted that Christ threw the money-lenders out of the temple, and deducted from it Christ’s forthcoming betrayal of Christianity.

TRANSLATION: Pravda (?) states that Trotsky betrayed Stalin for capitalist approbation, then in effect knocked out his own brains with a pick-ax for shame. However, Schneider’s Hearst reporter says that Trotsky betrayed Stalin for principle – accepting capitalist praise because he had originally given praise to Stalin’s revolution – and that he then retired to a Mexican estate run by his own “peons,” where he mellowed and lived a cultivated life. Now, the principle of Trotsky’s betrayal was this: he noted that Stalin threw the fifth columnists out of the Soviet Union, and deducted from it Stalin’s forthcoming betrayal of the Russian Revolution.

The following objections to this symbolic prologue might be made: 1. Even a Hearst reporter has greater respect for the facts than indicated here. 2. The first sentence is confused. 3. It wasn’t Stalin’s revolution. 4. Trotsky is beyond peons, etc. 5. Stalin didn’t throw fifth columnists out of Russia. 6. Stalin resembles no other figure in history less than Jesus Christ, but it is true that his rule has some of the historical attributes of Christianity, such as the Inquisition.

It should be added that this prologue reads like Thomas Mann – if you can picture Thomas Mann with stylistic hydrophobia.

In The Judas Time itself Schneider has written an affirmation to all charges, practically, that have been made by Stalinist authority against the Trotskyites. (Here it must be pointed out parenthetically that to the author of this book “Trotskyite” is a remarkably inclusive term. It is used to indicate anyone who: (A) is a member of the Trotskyist parties; (B) uses the terms “Stalinist” or “Stalinism”; (C) makes criticisms of the Stalinists that also have been made by Trotsky or Trotsky’s followers; (D) on occasion, anyone who makes any kind of criticism of the Soviet Union. Schneider’s effort to affirm is principally made through characterization. Trotskyites – we will stick with this terminology – are presented and characterized; and at the same time in opposition to them Stalinists – we will stick with this terminology – are presented and characterized. How does Schneider characterize his Trotskyites and his Stalinists?

The Trotskyists are characterized as follows: they are pornographers, sexual braggarts, whore-mongers, and adulterers. They are sadists, anti-Semites, liars, snobs, and egomaniacs. They are sneaky, sly, and cowardly; they are pompous, blustery, and rude. They get “mysterious” desires to murder Trotsky himself. The Trotskyites, Schneider tells us, believe in the politicalization of art, but at the same time, Schneider tells us, they believe that art should not be politicalized. They cooperate with fascists, and secretly admire fascists. They are ungrateful and hate people who do them favors. They work with the FBI against ex-comrades and get urges to kick pregnant women in the belly. They have faces “purple like butcher’s meat.” They are despicable, loathsome, disgusting; nauseating, etc., etc. In short, these Trotskyites are animals.

The Stalinists are characterized as follows: noble. And their nobility is as great as the putridity of the Trotskyites. When the Stalinists are insulted by a Trotskyite they usually turn the other cheek. They give the Trotskyites chance after chance to behave; only an emergency can force them to a rebuke. They are rational and patient. When there is a hearing to oust a Trotskyite, it is a Trotskyite-to-be who conducts the prosecution. The Stalinists all love each other sincerely, and they love little children. Just before an attempt, delayed for years by proletarian pain ting, to have a child a Stalinist husband says to his wife the following words – we quote them not merely to indicate the spiritual stature of these characters, but also to indicate the literary style in which they are presented:

Little Rose, beloved little flower, sweet Rose, you will bloom too. Your bud will open. I see now. I’m not blind any longer. I know what you want when you look at a child and color up. You will bloom, too, sweet Rose. Your bud will open, little mother Rose.

It should be added that the Stalinists do not think much of Trotsky’s prose. But, they are also brave and loyal to their ideals, and they are devoted. They don’t try to disrupt, they try to cooperate. And if they make criticisms, these criticisms are constructive, but they seldom make criticisms. At all events, not once in this book does a Stalinist appear as anything less than heroic.

Such is The Judas Time. Its crazed hysteria absolutely suggests the guilt, not of “Trotskyites,” but of Stalinism, and with good luck the book will injure the Communist Party as much as a Hearst campaign will help it. No human being above grade C can read this book and fail to be appalled. This must include many of the group of liberals and workers now sympathetic to Stalinism.

It is unnecessary to add that the lines of all Stalinist formulae are enmeshed in this book, like strands of glue. As indicated before, the book is written in the manner of a pulp story, but not as well. It seems to contain more gruesome metaphors and bad writing than nearly any book ever sold by a reputable American publisher.

The “novel” can be seen as a reflection of the terrible wretchedness of Isidor Schneider, and as a definitive comment on politicalized literature. But it shows more than the misery of one person, more than the poverty of a literary form. It exposes very directly the moral gangrene of Stalinism, and in this sense it should be recommended.


Footnote

1. The Judas Time, by Isidor Schneider. The Dial Press, $3.00.

 
Top of page


Main NI Index | Main Newspaper Index

Encyclopedia of Trotskyism | Marxists’ Internet Archive

Last updated on 10 June 2017