"Great works of literature can be morally illuminating by virtue of their capacity to expand our moral imagination"

By Teresa Macey-Dare, for University College London, 2022

Introduction

In this essay, I will operate on the assumption that a ‘great’ work of literature is one which has - through inciting critical discussion - earned a place within the literary canon.[1] Furthermore, I will take ‘morally illuminating’ as referring to the introduction of new moral ideas or perspectives, in turn encouraging reflection and ethically positive changes to behaviour. On Nussbaum's view, great literature does indeed serve this function. The reading of certain works is an exercise in moral education, or “habituation to virtue”.[2] Similarly, Diamond holds that literary examples are an important means of “deepening our emotional life and understanding of it”.[3] As such, they develop those capacities central to our moral lives. This includes, but is not limited to, moral imagination. I maintain that the works which most often satisfy the criteria of ‘expand[ing] our moral imagination’ and being ‘great’, are those which present morally problematic scenarios. A cognitive immoralist position[4] connects this with the idea of moral illumination: imagining ourselves in immoral situations can provide us with positive ethical insights. 

Using Süskind’s ‘Das Parfum’[5] as my core example, I will highlight the way in which such cases (ie. those portraying immorality) may be both the most fruitful and challenging to Diamond’s case. In particular, I will focus on the ‘overextension problem’ they pose. Exploring how cognitive immoralism may direct us towards a solution, I will argue in favour of a qualified version of Diamond’s position and thus, the essay claim at large. 

1. Diamond’s case as supported by cognitive immoralism 

As outlined, Diamond holds that great literature possesses a “moral force”: it provides us with constructive examples for moral education. Attentively following a narrative and empathising with its characters - “immersive reading” as Nussbaum puts it - serves a pedagogical purpose.[6]  This stance on the ethical value of literature seems intuitive, particularly upon considering the intentions of an author. Diamond appeals to the works of Dickens to illustrate this point. On her account, his primary moral aim was to encourage the adoption of, and thus sympathy with, the perspective of children. Whilst she cites numerous examples, we need only consider the child neglect displayed in Oliver Twist to support this interpretation. Through providing descriptions that “stimulate imagination and moral sensibility”, she concludes Dickens sought to “enlighten the understanding and ameliorate the affections”.[7] His works are morally illuminating as they encourage the reader’s imagination of themself in alternate (and often worse) positions. This is the crux of developing empathy. 

Whilst the above example speaks to my comment on the moral insight that can be found in works portraying immoral scenarios, this is afforded through assuming the position of the victims. To what extent can the same be said of literature in which we journey with the perpetrator? I will take Süskind’s Perfume as a paradigm example. Set in Enlightenment France, the novel follows the life of Grenouille - a socially inept and sadistic perfumer, with an unusual olfactory gift. Justified by his pursuit of the most attractive scent, he murders 25 virgin girls in cold blood. Even more horrifically, the concoction produced from their scents fulfils its omnipotent function; it incites such feral lust into the crowd at his execution that Grenouille evades certain death. Following Diamond’s view, by providing a window into the psyche of such a character Perfume indeed allows us to expand our moral imagination. This example draws clear parallels with the cognitive immoralist position (as noted, when divorced from questions of aesthetic value). 

Kieran suggests that “[morally] bad experiences are a primary means of coming to have a full understanding and appreciation of good ones”.[8] In this way, he asserts not only the epistemic value of experience, but of certain kinds of experiences (namely ‘bad’ ones). The former claim seems uncontroversial. Most would agree that certain knowledge cannot be afforded a priori. To support the second claim, Kieran invites us to consider moral saints: individuals who have rarely been tempted by or acted upon immoral thoughts. As such they may be said to “lack an understanding and proper appreciation of the human condition”.[9] Just as our sensory concepts rely on the experience of comparative cases (for example, distinguishing ‘redness’ requires perceiving at least one other colour), so too do our ‘cognitive-affective attitudes’[10]. Without an experience of temptation, it seems that moral saints lack full comprehension of the nature of human morality. Importantly, Kieran proposes that such experiences need not occur in real life, but can be afforded via imagination of certain narratives and characters within certain works of art. 

Imaginative experience in fact seems to be the preferable means by which we can come to possess comparative cases; it is free from (many of) the consequences of bad experiences that occur in reality. This allows one to “entertain moral judgements we would not usually assent to because of the cognitive rewards this may bring”.[11] Hence, cognitive immoralism supports the claim that certain literary examples may indeed be morally illuminating in virtue of their capacity to expand our moral imagination. Facilitating our adoption of a morally corrupt subject-position (that of Grenouille), Perfume provides us with the kind of imaginative experience to warrant its place in this category. In its exploration of heinous crimes the work elicits a response of repulsion and disdain on the part of the reader. This is enhanced by the deep insight into Grenouille’s perverse character provided by the Bildungsroman form. At various points he is, for example, depicted as a “creature more disposed towards death than life”; “wallow[ing] in disgust and loathing”; “writh[ing] with voluptuous delight”.[12] Consequently, we are led to be disgusted by Grenouille and affirm both his character and actions as immoral. 

2. The overextension problem 

Despite this, the Bildungsroman proximity between the narrator and protagonist, does encourage a degree of sympathy. We follow the life of a man orphaned at birth, and as such, doomed to be a misunderstood social outcast. This draws parallel with the children of Dickens’ novels. Recall that, despite any moral imperfections on display (namely thieving), Diamond maintains that the works are morally illuminating because they invite us to sympathise with the children. However, employing the same reasoning to Perfume, yields counterintuitive implications. Sympathising with Grenouille may lead us to diminish the extent of moral corruption surrounding his character and actions. This is supported by Eaton’s discussion of the ‘rough hero’ trope. Citing Grenouille as an example of the ‘congenial murderer’ sub-set, such protagonists are characterised by their ability to elicit support from the reader, despite integral and deeply troubling moral flaws. Via skillful application of literary techniques, Süskind lures us towards feelings of “admiration and respect, for [an] abhorrent and malevolent character”.[13] In contrast to the work referenced by Diamond, in Perfume the reader sympathises with the perpetrator of the immorality depicted.[14]  

As sympathising with a character may entail a reluctance to condemn their actions or, at the extreme, actually condone them, works such as Perfume may be charged with endorsing immorality. The conclusion seems even more difficult to avoid in this case; murder is instrumentally significant in Grenouille’s narrative, as the means by which he inverts his fate from an almost sub-human to God-like figure (omnipotent and immortal). Appealing again to cognitive immoralism may provide a response, however. Though a contested example, Kieran argues that it is our ability to overcome imaginative resistance and sympathise with bullies, that makes The Destructors pedagogically fruitful.[15] Echoing Nussbaum, via a kind of “immersive sympathy”[16]: suspending our actual moral judgements to make way for cognitive-affective attitudes we hold as immoral, we come to be morally illuminated. Elucidating this position, we may distinguish two claims: 

    (1) Imaginative experience can allow us to sympathise with the agents of immoral acts. 

    (2) This inspires a positive ethical insight within the reader. 

(2) does appear to follow from cases in which we are encouraged to adopt the position of the victims of putative immorality. For example, Diamond claims that “Dickens lead[s] people to a sympathetic way of looking at children”[17] and “where successful, [this directs us towards] what is interesting and important”.[18] Yet, this is not following what (1) specifies - sympathy towards perpetrators of immorality. In applicable cases such as The Destructors and Perfume, going from the first to second claim entails affirming the inverse moral principle to that which is being portrayed. Illustrating this with Perfume: (1) entails that we sympathise with Grenouille, but (2) that this asserts in us not a direct conclusion (eg. ‘murder may be justified’), rather, an indirect one (eg. ‘understanding what motivates such acts, emphasises their immorality: murder is wrong’). It seems that sympathy, by itself, would lead more readily to the direct conclusion. As the stimulation of moral imagination may result in immoral attitudes as well as moral ones, the novel cannot be classed as morally illuminating in and of itself. Diamond’s view thus faces an overextension problem. This draws upon Taylor’s problem of moral ambiguity: the potential for “conflicting responses to a work and the particular moral understanding that may lead to”.[19] If the expansion of our imaginative capacity via a piece of literature can lead to positive or negative ethical insights, ascribing the feature of moral illumination to that work does not actually denote anything about it. 

Asserting that negative ethical attitudes cannot, in fact, be warranted by examples that can be posited in line with Diamond’s account, seems to be the most promising response. If we can support that in such cases (2) should follow from (1), the challenge is undermined. The most apparent way of doing so draws upon O’Neill’s account: examples can only have morally illustrative roles when supplementary to some antecedent theory.[20] This evidently jars with Diamond’s position. As Taylor articulates, since an understanding of human values is dependent upon the “ways in which literature illuminates [them]”, the significance of such examples is not merely insofar as they support rational argument.[21] I therefore mention O’Neill’s position not to suggest we commit to it, but rather, because it invites us to consider the backdrop of our examples. In light of this, one may posit a moral framework within the reader which allows works such as Perfume to indeed be morally illuminating; we judge them to be so via implicit comparison to moral rules. Again, we find clear parallels with cognitive immoralism. As denoted by its name, we are able to gain positive ethical insights from certain works because we can perceive the immorality of their characters and/ or actions. The cases are comparative to our usual experiences and assumedly, own ethical frameworks. 

However, I believe two interconnected problems render this ultimately unsuccessful. For one, the morally illuminating character of a work becomes contingent upon the reader. It is assumed they have an established ethical framework (in line with putative morality) from which to compare the examples and thus generate reactions that support such principles. Moreover, in noting the connection between the potential response and cognitive immoralism, it may be undermined by a criticism put against the latter. According to Eaton, an intrinsic moral judgement is one which is a “component of the work’s perspective”, or “among the responses prescribed by the work”.[22]  Extrinsic moral judgements are the opposite. In appealing to the consequences of the artwork, cognitive immoralism may hence be charged with the very result of the overextension problem itself. Given that an audience is virtuous, all artwork can be morally illuminating. 

Yet this, I hold, in fact highlights a solution for Diamond’s account. Namely, through proposing that the background moral framework from which we can assess comparative cases is an intrinsic feature of the work. As Devereaux articulates, “to form a principled judgement [... - we] need to determine what the commitments of the work itself are.”[23] Going back to our paradigm case, although we may sympathise with Grenouille, this is nonetheless a response we are (or are seemingly intended to be) perverted by. Indeed, it is this tension that classifies him as a ‘rough hero’. However, because our sympathy could override our moral disdain, as mentioned, one must argue further that only a certain response - aversion to immorality - is appropriate. I believe that this is what Diamond implicitly supports. On her account, our emotional responses are in some sense governed by criteria of aptness where this comes with the quality of the writing (notably, an apprehension of moral reality as it is). This highlights the link between a great work and the ability for literary examples to be morally illuminating. Noting that Dickens could “fail by getting the emotional tone off through sentimentality”[24], Diamond suggests that a piece of writing has the potential to result in the ‘wrong’ kind of emotional response. Here, by way of being sentimental - alluding to a distortion of reality. Contrasting O’Neill’s claim that “we cannot challenge the interpretation of a literary example”[25], one can thus maintain that deducing a negative ethical insight from Perfume is not the correct response. The work must “excite in us a feeling appropriate both to what is described and to our own nature”.[26] In this way, the prescribed response is poised between the author intention (and so, writing) and reader interpretation. 

Conclusion

In not only successfully overcoming a key challenge to her case, but doing so in a way that retains our intuition about cognitive immoralist examples and further takes inspiration from her opponent (O’Neill), I have demonstrated the strength of Diamond’s qualified account. By enabling the vicarious experience of hypothetical scenarios, great works of literature encourage the expansion of a reader’s moral imagination. However, I suggest that this can only be morally illuminating if we assume the existence of an ethical framework from which new moral insights can be comparatively perceived. Arguing for this as an intrinsic feature or ‘perspective’ of the work, resolves the overextension problem. Moreover, it keeps the integrity of Diamond’s view: the moral value of literary examples is not constrained by the extent to which they supplement external arguments. Works such as Perfume may retain their morally illuminating status - insofar as we agree that they successfully prescribe a response of disapprobation. 

• [1] NB: restricted by my subject-position to primarily Western works 
• [2] Nussbaum, M. 1999 
• [3] Diamond, C. 1982, pg.31 
• [4] NB: I will only be referring to this position insofar as it is relevant to questions about moral imagination. I will neither be following it to, nor supporting, it’s conclusion regarding the relationship between moral and aesthetic virtues and flaws. 
• [5] ‘Perfume’ hereafter 
• [6] Nussbaum, M. 1998, pg.353 
• [7] Diamond, C. 1982, pg.32 
• [8] Kieran, M. 2002, pg.65 
• [9] Kieran, M. 2002, pg.67 
• [10] I.e. emotional responses 
• [11] Kieran, M. 2002, pg.63 
• [12] Süskind, P. 1986, pg.147; 128; 129 
• [13] Eaton, A.W. 2012, pg.284 
• [14] NB: this does not mean the reader cannot also sympathise with the victims 
• [15] Kieran, M. 2002, pg.68-69 
• [16] Craig, M. 2014, pg.441
• [17] Diamond, C. 1982, pg.31 
• [18] Diamond, C. 1982, pg.32 - where I take this to include moral insights 
• [19] Taylor, C. 2011, pg.80 
• [20] O’Neill, O. 1986 
• [21] Taylor, C. 2011, pg.76 
• [22] Eaton, A.W. 2012, pg.282 
• [23] Devereaux, M. 2004, pg.9 
• [24] Diamond, C. 1982, pg.33 
• [25] O’Neill, O. 1986, pg.17 
• [26] Diamond, C. 1982, pg.31  

Bibliography

• Craig, Megan. “Narrative Threads: Philosophy as Storytelling” Pennsylvania State University Press - The Journal of Speculative Philosophy vol. 28, (2014 Edition) pg. 438–53 URL: https://doi.org/10.5325/jspecphil.28.4.0438 
• Diamond, Cora. “Anything but argument?”, Philosophical Investigations (1982 Edition), pg. 23-41, DOI: 10.1111/j.1467-9205.1982.tb00532.x 
• Devereaux, Mary. “Moral Judgements and Works of Art: The Case of Narrative Literature”, Wiley - The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism vol. 62 (2004 Edition) pg. 3-11 URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/1559207 
• Eaton, A.W. “Robust Immoralism”, Wiley - The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism vol. 70 (2012 Edition) pg. 281-292, URL: http://www.jstor.com/stable/43496513 
• Kieran, Matthew. “Forbidden Knowledge: The Challenge of Cognitive Immoralism” from “Art and Morality”, Routledge (2002 Edition), pg. 56–73, ISBN:9780203454763 
• Nussbaum, Martha. “Exactly and Responsibly: A Defense of Ethical Criticism” from “Philosophy and Literature”, John Hopkins University Press (1998 Edition), pg. 343-365, DOI: 10.1353/phl.1998.0047 
• O’Neill, Onora. “The Power of Example”, Cambridge University Press (January 1986 Edition), pg. 5-29, Available at: http://www.jstor.com/stable/3750538 
• Süskind, Patrick. “Perfume: The Story of a Murderer”, Penguin Books (1986 Edition translated by John E. Woods), ISBN: 978-0-141-04115-5 
• Taylor, Craig. “Literature, Moral Reflection and Ambiguity” Cambridge University Press - Philosophy vol. 86, (2011 Edition), pg. 75-93 URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/23014771