Jacob McCleese

Utopian Literature: Alluringly Gnarled Reality

          How does one define literature? Previous to the eighteenth century this definition was easy, literature was simply just a term to describe the written word. This included poetry, fiction, essays, news reports, journals, and various other mediums. After the 18^th century, literary critics became increasingly unsatisfied with this definition; it seemed too broad and undefined. This dissatisfaction resulted in the creation of the Canon, the standard by which all literature is measured, including utopian fiction. However, utopian fiction is aimed at rejecting the dominant culture and advocating for change. Most utopian fiction does not resemble the literature found in the traditional cannon, at least not in a mimetic way. So, where does this leave utopian fiction? Is it literature? Is it some form of perverted new literature that requires a redefining of the canon? Studying utopian fiction this semester has assured me of two things regarding this genre: 1) literature adapts to person, place, and time; 2) literature must be aesthetically refined. Utopian fiction exceeds both of these literary standards.

          Literature is one branch on the humanities family tree. It exists in the space between history and philosophy, collecting runoff from both disciplines. Utopian fiction represents a perfect blend of literature, history, and philosophy setting it a part from other forms of fiction. Utopian authors use philosophy, in a rhetorically pleasing manner, alongside literary conventions to create worlds that have enticed readers for decades. Utopian literature is a true reflection of literary art.

          Most people think of art as paintings hanging on museum walls. However, art includes literature, sculptures, paintings, murals, and probably whatever else artists want to present as art. Art is human expression, aesthetically refined, and is most certainly seen in utopian fiction. A beautifully crafted line, from Anthem, comes after Equality has created fire. He writes, “We could not see our body nor feel it, and in that moment nothing existed save our two hands over a wire glowing in a black Abyss” (5.5). Ignoring the possible philosophy behind this moment, this line shows Rand’s range as an artist. She takes the reader on a journey inside him- or herself to a moment when the reader felt heroically empowered. As if the reader just saved the world from utter darkness and freed his or herself from blindness. Isn’t that a function of great literature? When a novel connects to the human spirit and lifts it to a sublime realm, that novel deserves the title literature. Rand’s line also hits on several human sensations. One can see the light coming from Equality’s creation, feel the warmth exuding from the light, hear the crackle and virgin spark, and relate to the elation that Equality feels. This ability to trigger sensations is another mark of a great writer.

One sensation that many utopian novels trigger is sound, and they do this by creating music with their words. Music is a blend of component parts, notes, working together to create harmony. Separately, music notes are just noise (listen to a child learning scales), but together they produce one of the most unique expressions of human creativity. Literary expression is very similar. As I write this next line, I’m thinking about how it sounds out loud, but there is nothing particularly musical about it. This is not overly concerning given the purpose of this essay; again, all writing is not literature. However, Revelation, the great grandfather of utopian texts, is very musical. Here’s one of my favorite lines, “And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying Alleluia: For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth” (Revelation 19:6). Listen to the melody created with this line. The author builds this line like a musical crescendo, going from many voices, to many waters, and ending with thunder. The repetitious “m” sound (multitude, mighty, many, omnipotent) provides this line with a musical unity. This line is hitting on all cylinders on the scale of musical literature and pleases the need for familiarity in literature.

          Also, this line creates a picture. Most people know what a large room of people speaking at the same time looks like and crashing waves are also a pretty universal sight. Thunder creates an interesting visual ambiguity. Does one picture torrential rain, trees being blown about by a mighty wind, or illuminating flashes of lightning? Whatever the reader imagines, these images are universally appealing and emotionally stimulating. Painting with words is another common literary feature practiced in most of our utopian texts. The land in Herland is described as, “a land in a state of perfect cultivation…an enormous garden” (1.130). Hythloday, in Utopia, describes the gardens as, “Well ordered…finely kept that I never saw gardens anywhere that were both so fruitful and so beautiful as theirs” (2.4c). Both descriptions place readers in a perfect world, a serenely, elevated plane that makes readers more receptive to the author’s assertions. It really is a brilliant literary technique.

Creating images with words appeals to all readers, especially when those images are of nature. Everyone appreciates natural beauty. Large open spaces elicit thoughts of eternity, vast space, and something beyond the bounds of the corporeal realm. This is an important part of literary expression. Literature has the unique ability to exist both spatially and temporally. Spatially, literature exists on the page, of course. Yet, as the above examples show, literature is not confined to the space between the front and back cover of novels, or of page margins. All the utopian authors read throughout this course use their literary abilities to tap into readers’ imaginations and take them beyond pages and ink into forests, monolithic buildings, and on a tour of intricate human societies.

Space has no hold on utopian literature, and time cannot hold utopian authors down either. Literature, as stated earlier, has a historical element to it. The difference between the two disciplines is that literature is free to create its own history. More’s novel has many allusions to actual European traditions, but the author fabricates many of Hythloday’s assertions. Utopian literature allows and encourages variations in the flow of time to accommodate the author’s purposes. This is why California drifting into the Pacific Ocean, in Ecotopia, is not decried as a temporally improbable occurrence.

Utopian literature does not have to measure up to the canon, but it does. Utopian fiction has all the fixings for great literature and the mounting interest of the populace. This genre does not sit in lofty places, like poetry, or present itself like a classical must read, like many novels; instead utopian novels are more accessible to non-English majors. The reading difficulty is by no means diminished, but the familiarity of many utopian texts invite readers to dive in and partake of the aesthetically pleasing utopian worlds.