Really impressed with H. G. Wells here; he manages to:
- imagine (correctly or incorrectly) a system of values/upbringing that might result in Finnegan's Wake being seen as good or worthwhile [not his words, but for example: valuing “artistic” / “creative expression” over pleasure or illumination for the reader],
- articulate his own values and why as a result he considers it not worth his time,
- yet remain humble [you may not think so but this is how it appears to me] that this is just his own point of view and for others with different values, this “extraordinary experiment” may be worthwhile after all — or not.
This ability to imagine another point of view, another system of preferences even, and come with a plausible explanation of it.
It's certainly an interesting mix of being extremely rude and judgmental while simultaneously also being very empathetic, culturally relativistic, and self-deprecatingly humble.
It's a fascinating mix. It operates at several levels of brutal honestly and self-reflection.
I'm not sure I'd call it rude. It's a blunt and frank letter to a friend, which I expect was taken in the spirit in which it was written.
In modern terms it's shockingly literate and expressive. I think it's tragic that we almost never see writing like this today. (You can imagine the modern equivalent as some kind of semi-ironic "'Sup fam?' YouTube or Twitter feud, mixed with appeals to mash that subscribe button.)
The only true sour note for me is the comment about delusions of persecution. The persecution of the Irish was very real, and it was tone deaf of Wells not to realise this.
You omitted the other half of the delusion sentence. The fact is that Joyce wasn't personally oppressed, and Wells wasn't personally responsible. The delusion implied is that they were somehow personally oppressed/responsible by virtue of their cultural situation. Very relevant indeed to modern sensibilities.
I thought it was kind of rude, but it depends on context. Did H.G. Wells and Joyce have a friendship, or did Wells just decide to write him a letter out of the blue? It is kind of rude to tell another person out of the blue that his book isn't worth your time, especially when said book took like 17 years to write.
Either way, I'm glad this letter exists, as it validates my priors :)
"And while you were brought up under the delusion of political suppression I was brought up under the delusion of political responsibility. It seems a fine thing for you to defy and break up. To me not in the least."
Even though he admits these are both delusions, I think that Wells is lying to himself a bit here, considering that Joyce was operating in a system where he couldn't exercise political responsibility. I'm sure Wells would have also have wanted to break up that system if he was in the same position.
I agree in part but also disagree: It has a certain accommodation to it--you are probably fine where you are. I'm fine over here.
But why is this necessary, unless you basically hate a person and don't think you could ever reconcile? It's a psychology of tribalism.
Unfortunately the letter also has a certain "shoot first, ask questions later" aspect to it. Like, why wouldn't Wells diplomatically _ask_ Joyce about the perspectives that informed his writing to the public in such a way?
The "articulate his own values and why as a result he considers it not worth his time" aspect is also a bit of a cringe along the same lines. You can see it all the time today, in comments on things that are shared on various, ahem, online communities. Especially in response to new projects or posts that don't seem completely pragmatic or tuned for performance, as if everything is meant for a paying audience of common moviegoers. Why wasn't I consulted? I'm a common man! I represent your most common audience!
Nah, I think Wells was also feeling afraid of being left out, tossed into the dustbin. Why else would you stake your entire identity so firmly in opposition to someone else, in a letter to that person, instead of keeping it open and asking questions? You're arguing for your own existence. Maslow has entered the chat with some cake and coffee and a monthly stipend.
Finally he seems to project some pretty nasty subjective perceptions right into Joyce's rationale. It kinda pulls Joyce down from what Wells seems to treat as a high horse. But it also promotes Wells' own perceptions all the way down the page. Like he invited himself to a debate and forgot to summon a live opponent.
TBH while it's amusing to read, and especially in a pompous voice, it also illustrates (to some, and hopefully) how we can learn to do much better for ourselves and others as a thoughtful corresponding audience.
Interesting perception. I looked up the context of this letter: according to the books linked below and https://jamesjoyce.ie/day-24-february/ — the timeline was this:
- In 1917 (when Wells would have been ~51 and Joyce ~35), Wells had written “one of the most favourable reviews” of Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. This was very helpful to Joyce, and Joyce wrote a letter to Wells thanking him. Even earlier, Wells had helped Joyce secure a grant.
- In 1928 (a few days before this letter), Wells and Joyce met for the first time and had lunch. During this lunch meeting they discussed Joyce's work, and Joyce “as was his fashion” asked Wells for a favour (probably enlisting his support when it finally came out as a book).
- Wells then replied with this letter, which explains why the second sentence of Wells's letter has “I don’t think I can do anything for the propaganda of your work.” Joyce found the letter “friendly and honest”.[1]
I think some of what you said may make more sense for an unsolicited letter, especially one posted in public (like the comments on online communities that you mention) — bothering to write to someone to attack them. Here, though, I'm afraid I can't share your perception that Wells was “afraid of being left out”, or “stak[ing his] entire identity” or “invited himself to a debate” — he was simply declining a request: “Sorry I can't help you in the way you asked: here's why, but good luck anyway”. One part of what you said that I can fully agree with is that it “promotes Wells' own perceptions all the way down the page”: because explaining his perception is the point, and it's one of the polite things you can do when saying No.
I think the context is critical. As unsolicited commentary, the whole "I'm writing to say I don't particularly care for your book, and I think that's because you think in this way and I think in this way" tone looks presumpious, rude (especially with some snarky lines about Catholicism being 'starkly opposed to reality') and frankly full of self importance (why would Joyce even care to read a stranger's inconclusive assessment of assumed differences in how they think). As a continuation of discussions about values and motivations they might have had and solicited feedback on a book he didn't particularly enjoy it makes a lot more sense.
Ah, I see what you're saying. You're responding to the historical question of veracity of details as if I wrote them to say that Wells was literally just a this or that, but I'm writing metaphorically to intuit Wells' psychological position. A metaphorical debate--he wrote _as if_.
Sorry I can't be more clear for now but this kind of mixing of language interpretations happens sometimes. For example in MBTI soft-theory land this happens quite often on a tech site like HN when an INTJ writes metaphorically and an INTP consumes literally for logical analysis. Instant disagreement is common.
Your comment has a certain accommodation to it -- you are probably fine where you are (in INTP land). I'm fine over here (as an INTJ).
But yes, nothing about your comment came across as hypothetical conjecture. The tone is overwhelmingly "here is my conclusion, watch me work vigorously back to it and then insinuate many bad things as a result of my mistake".
> you are probably fine where you are (in INTP land). I'm fine over here (as an INTJ).
Which is still qualitatively a different type of accommodation, as I'm saying we are likely, or possibly both right while also respecting the approach taken. Do you see how this is different from missing the purpose of the approach taken, remarking on how it is not fit for consumption by the common man, and saying, "it's OK, there is room for us both to be wrong here?"
> hypothetical conjecture
Why, because I don't have Wells in the room to ask? Accusing someone of hypothetical conjecture on a reading of a historical document is poor form here, given the context. I was given historical data based on a conjectural map of my writing onto someone else's psychology. I gave a valid reason why such a map leads away from my intended meaning. If you have a specific critique about the other post's contents, please go ahead. Otherwise criticizing my tone, whether to make Wells and I "both wrong" or for some other reason is unfair to the spirit of the discussion.
Why give away so much composure and relationship capital with a public shaming? Writing is a gift to subjective thoughts and emotions like these. And you can write, but mainly passionately? Don't stop with the soil. Get to the heart. This is what encrypted journals are for. Nobody needs to see your writing skill level, nobody's real-life experience is detonated by needlessly inflammatory words, and you get access to all the feelings and harsh thoughts you want, expressed until finally you break through the other side and start writing your own shit-free API.
- imagine (correctly or incorrectly) a system of values/upbringing that might result in Finnegan's Wake being seen as good or worthwhile [not his words, but for example: valuing “artistic” / “creative expression” over pleasure or illumination for the reader],
- articulate his own values and why as a result he considers it not worth his time,
- yet remain humble [you may not think so but this is how it appears to me] that this is just his own point of view and for others with different values, this “extraordinary experiment” may be worthwhile after all — or not.
This ability to imagine another point of view, another system of preferences even, and come with a plausible explanation of it.