If I had to pick a single word to express the essence of books, it would be "argument." That's why the words "The Argument" : are attached today to the lead article of The Sun's expanded Sunday book coverage.
Valid alternatives could fill this page: Inspiration. Idea. Entertainment. Education. Provocation. Distraction. Revelation. Interpretation. Instruction. But I cling to the thought that the cardinal job of books that are worth paying attention to is to be living arguments.
Here is the complete entry from my favorite dictionary. Not the best, which is the "Oxford English Dictionary," but still my favorite: "Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, Fifth Edition, 1944" : "ar'gu-ment [OF., fr. L. argumentum.] 1. Archaic. Proof; evidence. 2. A reason or reasons offered in proof; reasoning. 3. Discourse designed to convince or to persuade. 4. Argumentation; discussion; disputation. 5. The subject matter or topic of anything; also an abstract or summary, as of a book. 6. Matter of dispute. 7. One of the independent variables upon whose value that of a function depends."
I argue (3) that anybody who reads about books should be living a life of argument (4). I confess to one stark nekkid conviction: There are no certainties. On questions of aesthetic values, the best one can hope for is the pursuit of truth. There is grave peril in catching up with it.
The article by Marc Maxine Arkin on these pages is to my mind a superb argument (5, 4, 3, 2 and 1). Most surely it is (6), far from obsolete.
Why no certainties? Isn't peace to be found in the valley of certainty? No. In a life lived in absolute certainty, there can be precious little excitement, and thus scant relief except for baying at the moon.
Literature, art, so far as I experience them anyway, are not about answers. They are about questions. So, in the most serious senses, is the best of history, biography, substantial non-fiction of most sorts.
And never before this day, in my memory or knowledge, has the excitement of the pursuit of truth, in or out of books, been more consequential to real human lives.
In America and the world, in the neighborhoods of Baltimore and other cities and hamlets, this is a time of immense ferment of ideas. For all the anger, polarization and flailings about, in this country and beyond, even politicians are looking at ideas today with more openness of mind than has been true -- to my observation anyway -- in contemporary history. Card-carrying liberals are talking about the odiousness of " illegitimate" children; Charlton Heston's chariot is careening up Capitol Hill so he can plead with New Testament passion for the life of the National Endowment for the Arts.
Today's and tomorrow's flow of the evolution of thought ultimately will be important to every American, to everyone living in a world that is by default or by intent led by America. That flow includes profound, ongoing changes in the architecture of ideas, in the load-bearing concepts and terms of civilization.
To begin with, what today is "conservative" in American political and intellectual arenas? What's "liberal"?
In a very real and global sense, there isn't any Left left. The "practical" (in contrast to theoretical) Left today consists of a tiny handful of Chinese nonagenarians and Fidel Castro, a self-burlesquing pathetic barely able anymore to brutalize the slave captives of Leninism's largest, last Potemkin village.
And there is an equal loss of certainty on the Right, right? The closer the rabid evangelical absolutists come to exercising real power in America, the more even the scariest ideologues swim toward the mainstream. The Pathological Pats are swerving from threats of an inevitable Apocalypse Tomorrow to arguments for family-sustaining welfare programs.
Do these shifts and positions matter? Profoundly. In the case discussed today by Dr. Arkin, the stake is what you may or may not be allowed to read -- or write, or say -- sometime in the near future.
Make no mistake about this:
Arguments such as this one, whether tended or ignored, are what build or break public process and policy, are what lead to changes in laws, constitutions and the way lives are lived.
And, mostly, they happen in and through books.
These personal prejudices underlie the intent that will direct The Sun's Arguments about books. If you favor certainty, flee, now. Avert the eyes of your impressionable children. Predictability is the dirge of the marginally living mind.
If you yearn for reflection and rumination, look elsewhere. For reflections, I recommend the space above the washbasins at the nearest public toilet. For rumination, buy a cow.
The writers and subjects of these articles will seek to serve two purposes. One is to provoke: Ecstasy, anger, tendentiousness, introspection, fear, ambition, befuddlement, whatever. There must be passion. The other element is the joy of language. We will look for writing that uses language in such a way as to celebrate the beauty of words and how they come together.
I don't know what is correct, what is sure, certain, true. But I know that Marc Maxine Arkin's Argument is an act of pursuing truth with intelligence and integrity.
I am happy to have her do that here, where it belongs.