On Edmondson’s “Against Reading”

Part of the ingenuity of Mark Edmondson’s “Against Reading” is the way he opens; I’ll admit I gave an inward groan seeing the names of Marx, Foucault, Derrida –thinkers whose names are practically unavoidable in the sphere of the arts nowadays. But this is, I think, Edmondson’s very intention. We see the iconic names of these intellectual giants in a sentence which denounces the whole exercise of “reading” works of literary art. He takes the legacy of Western thought, embodied in the names of these thinkers, and turns it on its head with his bold statement: “I wish that’d we declare a moratorium on readings”.


The body of Edmondson’s essay is rich with literary references and examples. His own personal story of enlightenment in reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X enforces his view on literature; a “second chance” for the “socialisation” which is a necessary step on the journey to adulthood, and an encouragement to "befriend the text" in place of academic "readings". Edmondson’s essay writing itself is carefully stylised. He uses Latin etymology (“educare” = “to lead out of”), casual references to Plato whilst discussing pedagogy – in doing so Edmondson creates not just an argument but an overall sense of the richness, colour and history of the literary and pedagogical tradition. His choices of examples are also carefully picked to create the greatest possible contrast between ‘academic’ scrutiny and the intrinsic joy of literature. William Blake, the English Romantic poet, represents literary purity and joy, and is contrasted with Marx, “assumed to be a superior figure”. His quip of “there are in fact any number of Marxist readings of Blake out there; I know of no Blakean readings of Marx” is, I think, with tongue-in-cheek, but he certainly raises a well-thought idea that not only does a “Marxist reading” detract from Blake, but from Marx as well. Neither of their works are able to be seen in their own light, for their own merit. In this sense, Edmondson presentation of his argument is sophisticated and well thought out.

My main qualm with Edmondson’s thesis is his conclusion about the field of literary criticism. Edmondson presents a highly idealised, romanticized and uplifting picture of books and their merit. The books written by academics today, he criticises, “are composed as performances”. Unlike the texts that professors teach, the texts they write are “could not conceivably be meant to provide spiritual or intellectual nourishment”. He includes himself in this category: “our books are written not from love but from need”. Edmondson critiques the sense of audience modern academics ‘perform’ for. But it’s inconceivable to say that the greatest works of literature – those indeed which have inspired generations to come – are highly conscious of their audience and how their art will be received. If we think back to the very beginnings of poetry, the Ancient oral tradition, the travelling bard was entirely dependent on pleasing his audience; the epics of Homer or Virgil is extremely self-reflexive. Later on, the Renaissance writers worked under the patronage of aristocrats, or for theatre companies. The most canonical of texts had this same awareness of audience – Edmondson’s ideal of writing as a free expression of one’s soul is a product of the Romantic period, and however charming and seductive it may be, we can’t forget that it is a relatively new ideology, which leads back to figures like Marx and Foucault, who remind us that social and cultural ideas are forever changing. This leads me, at least, to wonder whether it is really possible (however desirable) to “give readings a rest” as Edmondson wishes after all.