The Autonomy of Art and the Legitimization of Biofiction: An Aesthetic Turning Point in Twentieth-Century Literature

Biofiction is literature that names its protagonist after a historical figure, and since the 1990s it has become one of the most dominant literary forms. This is surprising because many prominent scholars, critics, and writers have criticized and even condemned it. This essay hypothesizes that postmodern theories of truth and concomitant transformations in reader sensibilities partly account for the legitimization and now dominance of biofiction. The essay analyzes a 1968 literary debate among Ralph Ellison, William Styron, and Robert Penn Warren, which on the surface concerned the uses of history in literature. But because it happened just one year after the publication of Styron’s controversial novel about Nat Turner, the debate ended up focusing primarily on the nature and value of biofiction. By analyzing the discussion in relation to contemporary formulations about and theorizations of biofiction, this essay illustrates why the forum represents a turning point in literary history, resulting in the decline of a traditional type of literary symbol and the rise of a more anchored and empirical symbol—that is, the type of symbol found in biofiction.

John Crowe Ransom

John Crowe Ransom (b. 30 April 1888–d. 3 July 1974) was an American poet, Southern Agrarian, literary critic, and editor of the Kenyon Review, arguably the most influential “little magazine” of the mid-20th century. Educated at Vanderbilt University in Tennessee and as a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford, Ransom began writing poetry as a member of the Fugitive group that included Allen Tate and Robert Penn Warren and had its own short-lived magazine in the early 1920s. Most of the poems on which his reputation rests—often on love or death, never long, sometimes quirky, and with intermittent archaic wording—are to be found in Chills and Fever (1924) and Two Gentlemen in Bonds (1927). Ransom won the Bollingen Prize for Poetry in 1951 and the National Book Award for his Selected Poems in 1964. Following their Fugitive period, Ransom and his associates moved on to become Agrarians, arguing in their 1930 I’ll Take My Stand: The South and the Agrarian Tradition that the South’s distinctive characteristic was its agrarian culture, separating it from both the capitalist industrial North and Soviet Communism. As an English professor at Vanderbilt where historical studies of literary texts took precedence, Ransom argued and eventually won the cause of the literary critic, a victory that over time changed the hierarchies in the profession at large. The text itself, its structures and images and their complex interrelationship, was what was most important. His 1941 volume of theoretical essays, The New Criticism, made Ransom the quasi founding father—there were many others—of a movement that would dominate the academy for the next three decades. Always fascinated by, but wary of, the sciences as their place within the university increased exponentially, Ransom sought over and over to define the kind of supplementary but equally essential knowledge that poetry offered. As founding editor of the Kenyon Review in 1939 and director of the Kenyon School of English, Ransom exercised enormous influence on both the teaching of literature at American colleges and universities, and on several emerging poets and novelists, most notably Robert Lowell. By the mid-1960s, however, many of Ransom’s critical and social positions had come under challenge, as has his status as a “major minor poet” in several recent critiques. Nevertheless, current studies are also finding overlooked fissures in his poems, and, in the age of digitized textuality, fresh inspiration in his Agrarian and New Critical forays.

Warren, Robert Penn (1905–1989)

Robert Penn Warren was a renowned poet, novelist, critic and educator. He matriculated to Vanderbilt University in 1921, where, with Allen Tate (1899–1979) and John Crowe Ransom (1888–1974), he became part of The Fugitives, a group of poets named for the journal they published. Warren earned a master’s degree at the University of California and accepted a Rhodes Scholarship to study at New College, Oxford University. Here, he began to pursue the close readings of literary texts that eventually became associated with New Criticism: a focus on the text itself without reference to the biography of the writer or the historical circumstances of the text’s composition or reception.

Southern Agrarians

The Southern Agrarians were twelve writers from the American South who advocated a return to an agrarian-based economy throughout the 1920s and 1930s. In their 1930 collection of essays I’ll Take My Stand: The South and the Agrarian Tradition, John Crowe Ransom (1888–1974), Robert Penn Warren (1905–1989) and others attacked the system of modern industrial capitalism and its effect on the traditional way of Southern life.

Brooks, Cleanth (1906–1994)

Cleanth Brooks was born in Murray, Kentucky, and spent most of the first half of his life in the American South. He taught at Louisiana State University (LSU) from 1932 until 1947, when he took a position at Yale. While at LSU, he and colleague Robert Penn Warren (1905–1989) co-edited The Southern Review, which published both critical essays and creative writing, including that of modernist writers Ford Maddox Ford and Wallace Stevens. His prolific work on Southern writers, especially William Faulkner, made an unparalleled contribution to the study of Southern literature in America. He is perhaps best known for his influence on New Criticism, which pioneered an approach to the study of poetry that involved analyzing the structural, rhetorical and metaphorical elements of a poem through close reading, rather than relying on biographical and historical details for interpretation. Brooks expounded upon this method in his two most renowned books, Modern Poetry and the Tradition (1939), which includes a classic reading of T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, and The Well Wrought Urn: Studies in the Structure of Poetry (1947). These works, together with the popular textbook Understanding Poetry (1938), co-written with Warren, revolutionized the teaching of poetry in American higher education.

Hemingway’s Desolation Laid Bare, Perhaps

“A Clean, Well-lighted Place,” was first published in Scribner’s Magazine, in 1933, and ever since has been a significant focus of the literary world, with few daring to risk their literary aspirations, in rebuttal of previously published assertions as the dark forebodings of a world bereft of faith or joy. One is left to ponder a literary profession that appears bereft of a critical examination of the work, or, may not being able to see the forest for the trees. Responding to the assertion by Robert Penn Warren, that Hemingway lived in a “world of violent action,” WB Bache preferred to see the writer as a representative of unique craft and insight, and that he should be seen as, “a creative artist.” This is why I too, found Hemingway an enigma, as someone with a unique literary style, but possessing too, a wicked side. In his art, as he was in life, a hard drinking, womanizing, errant joker, who I feel certain here, is having a laugh at us all, from the other side. Sam Bluefarb (1971) wrote of the “Need to break through to some transcendent purpose—esthetic or religious—without which life seems to have little or no meaning.” Indeed, the melancholia which pervades this literary offering drags the reader down, into its darkness and despair, its depths of the maudlin, the mundane. The pathos may be evident, but does the meaning of the story have to be so dark, and so bitter? The “illogical dialogue sequence,” Warren Bennett (1990) ascribed to the tale, appears to be too bad, too lacking substance, too illogical for words, and so devoid of natural development that it takes on an artificiality such that it could only be a frolic that Hemingway is having, at our expense. Hemingway was a disciple of misogyny, this brute found love so often, not with docile, “pleasant”, or amenable women, but independent, vibrant, aggressive, articulate, intelligent, and yes, “feisty.” None of them was just a decoration, all were treated abysmally, and yet they all loved him till they had no more love left to give, until he had drained them of their capacity to continue to love him. These relationships open the door to a less discussed possibility, that “A Clean Well-lighted Place,” was actually a metaphoric celebration of femininity, in praise of womanhood, an explanation of the clean illumination of our lives (places), without whom, we are dark and dull, and lifeless, much like the iconic short story.