By my own rough count, the question in my title has been asked and answered about six thousand and three times in the past 50 years or so. Almost always, the answer has been “yes.” This makes sense. It is not the sort of question that anybody would bother asking if they thought the answer was “no.”
I have not exactly spent my academic career trying to answer the question, but I have made two fairly public attempts at an answer at two very different points in my academic career. As a new Ph.D. student, I gave a paper with the audacious title, “How to Be a Mormo-American” at an AML-sponsored session of the Rocky Mountain Modern Language Association conference in 1994. Here I argued for a very expansive view of “Mormon Literature” and called on critics to use that view as the basis for more and better literary criticism. When Dialogue published it later that year (my first ever publication in an academic journal), they changed the title to the much more respectable “The Function of Mormon Literary Criticism at the Present Time.”
Twenty years later—after two academic jobs, seven books, a few dozen articles, and two terms on the Dialogue Board of Directors—the Maxwell Institute asked me to write a “state of the field” essay about Mormon literary studies, which I did here. In the essay, I lamented the fact that Mormon literary criticism has not kept pace with other fields in Mormon studies. I also said that, while there certainly were such a thing as “Mormon Literature” and even “Mormon Literary Criticism,” very little of it was having an impact on the larger worlds of Mormonism, literature, or literary criticism. Some in the Mormon Literature community took umbrage, and Scott Hales and I had this productive discussion on the Maxwell Institute website about what in the world I meant.
Now that I have been offered this forum on the AML website, I would like to start my bloggerly tenure by revisiting what in the world I meant. But let me first discuss (very briefly) some of the things that I did not mean. I did not mean that there is no good Mormon literature being produced these days, or that there is not good literature being written by Mormons, for Mormons, about Mormons, or thematically connected to Mormonism. I did not mean that there are not excellent readers and writers reading and writing about this literature in all kinds of different forums. And I did not mean that these conversations are not serious, high-quality, bona-fide instances of literary criticism.
What I did mean is that the world of Mormon Literature has yet to tell compelling stories abut two things: a) why literature is important to Mormonism; and b) why Mormonism is important to literature. We’ve all tossed around some ideas here and there. But, for the most part, we (and by “we” I mean those of us with a professional commitment to Mormon literature) have been so worried about defining our subject and proving to each other that it exists that we have neglected the far more important question of why “it” (however we define it) matters.
This is what literary criticism has to do. At the most basic level, critics are supposed to try to figure out and explain what stuff means—which is almost always harder than it appears. But ultimately, the job of the critic is to explain why stuff matters. What counts as “stuff,” of course, changes over the years, but it usually includes (without being limited to) poems and plays and novels and all of their descendants–from graphic novels to song lyrics to the words of the prophets written on the subway walls.
Most of us who studied critical theory in graduate school have fond memories of reading literature as Marxists, old historicists, new historicists, feminists, Freudians, Jungians, Lacanians, structuralists, post-structuralists, post-post-structuralists, and whatever came next. The unifying factor of all these –ists and –isms is that they make books and poems and things matter. They tell us that these things that we love, and that we want to spend our lives studying, have real consequences for the world.
So, let’s go back to the question in my title, “Is There Such a Thing as Mormon Literature or What?” Ultimately, this is not even a very good question. The real question is, “Why does Mormon literature matter?” I realize that this is a huge question that requires us to deal with thousands of smaller questions and issues before we can even attempt an answer. But those are the only kinds of questions that one can dedicate one’s life to trying to answer.
And it is the question that I want to use this space to explore with the help of a community of writers, readers, and scholars who, like me believe (perhaps unreasonably) that it matters a lot.
I write literary works with Mormons as my intended audience.
A few thoughts on why I as a writer think Mormon Lit matters:
1) Mormonism has its own language and its own mythos, and so a writer willing to embrace and explore Mormon concerns can reach people with a greater depth than a writer who goes for a broader audience with less pre-existing shared cultural infrastructure. I wrote an article for Irreantum about this with allusion as an example.
2) Mormons are a minority in active tension with the majority culture. This tension is great. Sometimes it leads us to produce rather embarrassing pieces in which writers contort themselves viciously to show that they are different from the backward Mormon masses, but even that is its own kind of interesting. I personally am interested in helping a people whose culture is looked down upon to see and build on the beauty in their culture. I think that sort of project in other minority groups has produced some of this country’s best literature.
3) There are big human questions everyone has to wrestle with. Mormon mythos, the tensions of Mormon life, etc. are great entry points into those questions. I like, for example, to write about fathers and sons and explore what it means to carry so much love and so much tumult in one relationship. Mormon settings have given me great entry points to do that.
Yes, I love your point about minority groups producing “some of this country’s best literature.” I am currently writing a piece about literary journals and submissions for the LDS writer. I am glad I came across this post.
I agree with James. I also would add something else, which is a bit more presumptuous and maybe a bit more dangerous, but that is: Mormon literature (Mormon culture) is important for helping modern Mormons understand that the way things currently are is not the way things have always been or will be. And also that the way things currently are for you both is and isn’t the way things currently are for other Mormons (and hopefully the both the is and the isn’t when expressed in narrative art help deepen your overall understanding of yourself and others.
And that’s why that for all the nonfiction writing I have done, I’m beginning to think that my best expression of is there such a thing as Mormon literature and why does it matter is to be found in my creative work, much of which (shameless plug) can be found in Dark Watch and other Mormon-American stories: http://www.motleyvision.org/dark-watch-collection/
I’d also say that one of the projects of Mormon criticism is to bring to the fore materials that current and future artists can react against/in dialogue with/steal from/etc.
I don’t know that I always live up to it, but, for example, Eugene England’s “Danger on the Left! Danger on the Right!” has been a touchstone for me in relation to my creative work. Not that when I’m writing I’m always worrying about the left or the right, but rather it informs the thinking I pursue that my work comes out of.
I like Michael’s formulation of his first area of focus (“why literature is important to Mormonism”), for a reason that I’m not sure he intended: that is, it doesn’t specify *Mormon* literature.
I would expand the question still further (or maybe just articulate it differently) by asking why literature matters at all from a Mormon perspective. After all, we as Mormons have a pretty distinctive, frequently articulated, and relatively detailed view of the purpose of existence. How does literature fit into that? This was the question that drove me to the AML-List so many years ago, as a graduate student confronting other people’s reasons why literature matters and longing for a place where I could talk about reasons that articulate with my own perspective on the world.
Why is why, for me, Mormon literary criticism is and should be larger than discussion of Mormon literature — and why “Mormon literature” should be defined as broadly as possible, for the sake of fostering a range of conversations. All are necessary pieces of evidence for many of the questions that most interest me. (I try to get at that range of questions in my essay, “Parsing the ‘Mormon’ in Mormon literature,” over at http://www.motleyvision.org/2015/parsing-the-mormon-in-mormon-literature/).
I’m guessing that most committed Mormons who have spent any extended amount of time studying literature have grappled with this issue. But most of us don’t talk about it much.
I have a couple of thoughts.
Why the larger world needs Mormon literature:
We are *the* American religion. According to our cannon, the church exists because of the Land of Promise and the freedom given to Americans to worship as we please. There are a few religions that are entirely American. Quakers, Shakers… Baptists and other protestant offshoots. But the LDS doctrines are so very, very American. Look at how leaders are chosen and sustained; look at our doctrines about law and rule of law, our experimental law-of-consecration government would not have been able to exist anywhere else. LDS people are proud Americans. We are, IMO, the frontier American religion. And because Mormons exist, the west expanded more quickly, seasoning travelers who came through the Salt Lake Valley on their way to other places west. To read Mormon literature is to read American literature, and to see the experiment that the puritans, who fled religious persecution in favor of complete freedom of worship, fulfilled. We need a salient voice at the table of American literature. We deserve one 🙂 and American culture would benefit from a deep look at Mormon culture, because we are, I think, distilled American culture.
Why Mormons need Mormon literature:
I was a lonely kid growing up. I had lots of very religious friends, but they, for the most part, saw me as something to be held at arms’ length handled carefully, because to them, the Mormon religion was not CHristian and could lead them astray. I also had friends who weren’t religious, but they tended to not invite me to stuff because they knew I wouldn’t respond well to smoking pot and all the stuff.
I wasn’t a part of the communities. I was sidelined a lot. I didn’t have very many close friends, other than the small handful of LDS kids I interacted with. So reading Mormon fiction helped me feel a part of the community. It reminded me who I was, and gave me hope for the future–that there were communities out there who would welcome me, whose values matched mine, who shared my beliefs. And one day, I wouldn’t be lonely anymore.
About three quarters of the way through the previous century, I wrote a master’s thesis titled “A Survey of Mormon Literary Criticism” (BYU 1978). In the introduction, I made this observation, and here I put in all caps the part that I think is relevant here: “The representative statements here presented are treated first in essentially chronological order in order to demonstrate such historical development as has occurred. (This is not, however, a historical study as such, inasmuch as MORMON CRITICISM HAS VIRTUALLY NO HISTORY IN TERMS OF DEVELOPMENT FROM ONE STAGE TO ANOTHER, as becomes evident in the discussions that follow; THERE IS NOT EVEN A SENSE OF A DIALOGUE OR CONVERSATION AMONG THESE CRITICS, SINCE VIRTUALLY NONE OF THEM ACKNOWLEDGES THE WORK OF ANY OTHER, EACH SPEAKING AS IF IN A VACUUM.) That situation has not changed, as is evidenced by my own personal experience during the past eleven months. I have posted eleven essays here at Dawning of a Brighter Day, and I have several more in preparation, taking head on the basic questions: What is art? Why does it matter? Why does it matter to Zion? What is the artist’s role in Zion? How can a criticism be grounded in the theology and metaphysic of the revelations of the Restoration? And like everyone else who has undertaken to address these questions (I presented and discussed ideas of eleven of them in my thesis, beginning with Orson F. Whitney, who broached the subject at the very beginning of the previous century), I have been crying into a wilderness. Michael, you are absolutely right, and I pray that a conversation might get going before another century passes. I invite you over to “Being a Mormon Writer, and the Quest for the Infinite” to do a little criticism on my criticism. By all means, let’s talk about this.
I cannot agree with this more. There’s a Charlie Brown knotted-up thought bubble of feelings and opinions and speculations in my head, but I can’t sort them out, so I can’t do justice to this statement. I may never be able to.
This is what I want to know:
Do we deliberately avoid others’ work for various reasons (among them, “not Mormon enough,” “not up to church standards,” “too Mormon,” “too preachy,” “not preachy enough,” “makes us look bad,” “I don’t read that genre,” etc etc etc) or do we simply not know the others exist?
Colin, did you enter a piece in Scott Hales’ upcoming collection of Mormon criticism? Hopefully that will be a good gathering place for discussion. Also, Jack Harrell’s new book “Writing Ourselves: Essays on Creativity, Craft, and Mormonism” should be part of the conversation. http://gregkofford.com/products/writing-ourselves
There will be a panel event at Provo’s Writ & Vision on Tuesday, June 28 at 7:00 p.m. with Jack Harrell, Boyd Peterson, Darlene Young, and Eric Samuelsen discussing creativity, expression, and a “Mormon literary theory.” The event is free and light refreshments will be served.
Both, I think. We’re defensive and oblivious.
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I have a lot of comments. I’m not sure how I’ll do remembering them all.
First, the essay James alluded to inspired me immensely. It made me want to focus more on writing for Mormons.
Second, until universities support this study, it’s going to be hard for us laymen to really read up. Especially if, like me, you own Tending the Garden but haven’t read it yet. That said, Scott Hales’s book on criticism will be required reading! Buy copies for all your friends!
Some of the most riveting moments in MoLit criticism have been back-and-forths. The Austin/Hales mentioned above is one, but what about the Jorgensen/England/Cracroft brouhaha? That might be the most read series of essays in the field!
I was super excited about Colin’s essays but I’ve had a hard time keeping up. Are they too long for my online reading habits? Am I just too dang lazy? Probably! I’ll try to do better with you, Colin! And you, Michael!
Several excellent comments here on the why, all representing rich veins to mine. I would love to see that mining happen.
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Another thing I meant to say:
MoLitCrit has become a weird ghetto. Lots of support now for history, sociology—even theology. Criticism is lagging behind.
I attended three of the presentations of this year’s Mormon Theology Seminar. (Eight [nine if you count the semi-official Bob Rees) sat together for a week and read Alma 12-13, writing a thousand words a day and presenting papers at the end.) Although it was theology-themed, the scholars came from different fields: theology, philosophy, sociology, etc. Including one person in complit. I didn’t catch that presentation, but finding space in others’ established spaces to wield the tools of the critical trade might build institutional interest.
By the way, I’m certainly not knocking independent scholars. Not me, heavens.
I don’t think it detracts anything from independent scholars to argue that for a really healthy Mormon literary criticism, we need some professional scholars as well.
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Thank you, Jonathan. That’s what I was afraid I didn’t imply.
I’m a few days behind reading and responding to this, but as Michael has shown, this conversation spans decades.
I appreciate the comments so far. On this topic, I’ve also been inspired to write Mormon fiction not only by James’s essay in _Irreantum_ and Jack Harrell’s literary theory that appeared in _BYU Studies_ a few months ago, but also by Doug Thayer’s AML essay several years ago advocating for a “Serious Mormon Literature.” Even more recently, I like the example of what’s possible that Wm set in _Dark Watch_. All of these voices and the insights of the recurring discussion about the question of what Mormon literature is or possibly can be have informed my own work.
I do find it curious, though, that we who have an interest in writing and promoting Mormon Literature regularly poke the beast to see if it’s still alive. We have a documented history of doubting its existence and whether it matters (It does seem like 6,003 times is about right, Michael. ;). Whether or not we really do doubt its existence–help thou, Lord of Muses, mine unbelief–I think most of us agree that there’s _something_ there. And then, we ask, “Does it matter?” If I, a Mormon, write about and for other Mormons, does it, can it, will it make any impact on national or world literature? Am I wasting my time and energies writing for “a small audience”? And that may be a source of this questioning and doubt and fear, and I confess that it’s been mine at one point or the other, that we Mormon writers want to feel validated, not only by our own peers, but also by independent judges of literary merit (and I use “literary” broadly) who reside outside our own echo chamber. We do want the World to say, “Look at what the Mormons are doing.” It’s all right to admit this. I don’t think the statements made by Orson F. Whitney and Spencer W. Kimball about the possibilities of Mormon literature, with its own Miltons and Shakespeares, were intended to exclude the World’s role in judging our literature as worthy of such heights.
Although it may seem like it, I’m not saying that Mormon Literature only matters if the World says it does. I don’t think that at all. In fact, it may be that the World refuses to acknowledge the existence and the significance of Mormon Literature, or even worse, counts it as “chloroform in print.” We can’t control their reaction to what we do. But who gives a flying fish what the World thinks of us anyway? We can only strive to do what we do in the best way possible, studying the literary conventions of the World so that we can break them and make them into our own image. Some of the greatest writers were not even recognized widely in their lifetimes. Kafka comes to mind. In the future, there may be a “Mormon moment” in literature. One hopes.
And hope leads to faith that having a literature by, for, and about Mormons matters at some deeply felt, soulful, eternal level.
I write about Mormons because it’s the world I know best. Beyond that, I want to put it out there that Mormon life is worthy of examination and consideration, that it has meaning and significance beyond the reassurance given by popular primary songs. I hope to succeed in presenting the Mormon world as inhabited by humans, and at the same time, train a (hopefully) growing readership to reject the idea that our literature must be a PR front for it to be acceptable, that it can present us as we really are, blemishes and dirty wool and all, with the associated hope of who we may become.
Also, embracing the Mormon cosmology in one’s writing of Mormon literature is an act of faith in itself. Do I truly believe in the intersection of supernatural and natural realms? Can a young man pick up Jesus Christ on the way to a Megadeth concert? Which is more REAL, more an act of faith or doubt, to include or exclude such fantastical elements in one’s writing, even if you’ve never experienced them yourself? (In some respects, Doug Thayer’s realism is more faith-promoting for me because you’re following a protagonist who, like yourself, must in the end decide to have faith against “proofs” of a seemingly indifferent universe.) So Mormon literature matters in that it can, does, and probably should present a world that is as most non-believing, scientific types conceive it to be, only **NOT** _without God in the world_, but instead with a Father who values the agency to choose whether to seek and find Him or not, and showing that process and reality in action.
Finally, whether or not the World considers Mormon literature worthy of interest, it matters because it’s a stumbling block to the cynicism and nihilism of much of contemporary literature. Jack Harrell mentions David Foster Wallace and the New Sincerity writers in his literary theory essay. We can fit in that paradigm. Mormon Literature can stare into the abyss and not fall in. (Incidentally, I also appreciate Sarah’s comments about it mattering because of Mormonism being the quintessential American religion, but I do hope to see more International contributions that show we _are_ in the world, but not of America only.)
As for whether literature, in general, matters to Mormons? It matters to a few, perhaps the chosen few. It matters to me, if only to engage with what William Gass calls a “container of consciousness” more deeply and intimately than what other media can provide me.
It matters. It matters to me and perhaps that’s a start.