The essay, and the essayist, is a rare breed, but Jacobs revives this tradition with force. In the introduction, he tells us that he’s self-consciously patterning his essays after two of the great essayists of the early 20th century, Orwell and Lewis. Like Orwell, he sees the essay as a direct means for “facing unpleasant facts,” but like Lewis he wants to pair that determination with Christian charity. For Jacobs, honesty and charity belong together and that’s what he’s striving for in A Visit to Vanity Fair. He also mentions Montaigne who above the door to his study had the words “What do I know” inscribed. Jacobs takes Montaigne literally imagining that Montaigne wrote in order to answer the question and see what he knew. So, like Montaigne, Jacobs sets out to determine what he knows by seeking the truth with charity wherever he can find it.
Jacobs has a singular ability to draw my attention to types of books that I would never have thought even existed. This ability is undoubtedly related to his conviction that we must be highly selective about what we give our attention to and his interest in Breaking Bread with the Dead. So, his essays are filled with references to books, essays, and projects that are fascinating and at times feel other-worldly. I frequently come across a book he’s discussing and think, “Books like that exist?”
For instance, in the first essay, “A Bible Fit For Children” Jacobs is examining the conflict between the Romantic notion of childhood innocence and the reality of childhood suffering which culminates in a moving reflection of the conclusion of The Brothers Karamazov. As an example of the Romantic notion of childhood innocence, however, Jacobs discusses the book How Like an Angel I Came Down by Bronson Alcott, a stream of consciousness transcription of philosophical discussions that Alcott had with school aged children.
Another example is American Sermons in the Library of America collection edited by Michael Warner. In “Preachers without Poetry” Jacobs muses about the fact that the Romantic period removed much non-fiction literature from the status of literature, and how this anthology represents something of a corrective, but in the end, it reveals that much of the sermon writing that has predominated the American landscape is neither literary nor theological.
In “Friendship and its Discontents” Jacobs discusses The Norton Book of Friendship what he considers an optimal choice for the bedtime or mealtime reader. This anthology is a collection of letters, poems, and stories about friends. Reading the anthology prompts Jacobs to muse whether the Christian emphasis on family relationships has actually diminished Christian reflection on friendship.
The second aspect of this collection of essays that I enjoyed was meditation on how Auden’s persona has deeply affected Jacob’s thinking and moral vision. I recently read What Became of Wystan and several themes from Auden’s life developed in Jacob’s first book were scattered throughout these essays. For instance, in “Donald Davie” Jacobs discusses the poetry of the titular poet and draws strong parallels between Auden and Davie. Both of these poets hated the Romantic sentiment that poetry somehow had some kind of “magical” ability. Instead, they both engaged in “dialogue” through their work that pressed toward virtue and integrity with no patience for falsehood or exaggeration.
This dogged pursuit of truth wherever it might be found is the topic of his final essay “A Visit to Vanity Fair” where he discusses Auden’s belief in the “sin of being interesting.” For Auden, the aesthetic realm is dangerous precisely because the wicked are always more interesting. Auden, Davie, Jacobs, these are men who are dedicated to the truth, and not merely a desire to be interesting. That kind of virtue, especially for an author, comes at a cost, but what could be more valuable?
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