Writers and Readers as Collaborators, Part 2.

To Say Exactly What I Mean

Perhaps this goal can never be fully performed, since in literary criticism one is dealing with the intricacies of language and the complexities of the human mind.  But I thought a few additional comments might clarify my last post on readers and writers as collaborators.  Forgive me for drawing on one of my own works, my Civil War novel set in Kentucky I Pray the Lord My Soul to Keep, but I believe it suggests what I mean.  Jeremiah Manningham flees from the Battle of Fort Donelson. Stunned by his cowardice and the bloody horrors of war, he retires to lead a monk-like existence, brooding about his character and the nature of God.  Later he learns that Jerry Manning, a rebel guerilla, who could be his brother, has been captured by the Northern forces.  Jeremiah travels to the jail cell to conduct a makeshift communion service for Jerry, using wine and household bread. A devout man borrowed the novel from some friends to take along on a vacation. Upon returning, he told me that he had enjoyed and profoundly been moved by the novel, especially by Jeremiah’s believing that he had a heavenly ordained mission to perform. I thanked him, glad of his response.  Sometime later, without mentioning my novel, I asked my clergyman at the time whether a communion administered by an unordained celebrant would be valid. His answer was prompt and unambiguous: No.  Communion had to be administered by an ordained member of the clergy. I do not know whether he read the novel. If so, he might have seen episode as presenting a pathetic mock ritual, or, even while holding this belief, he could have been moved by Jeremiah’s good will.  A non-Christian could have read the scene with disgust, seeing the ritual as superstitious foolery. Or an atheist could have read these pages and, while not believing in the Holy Supper, could have enjoyed the scene because of what it reveals about Jeremiah’s character.  Each of these views would have validity for their particular holders. As to communion services being administered by a layman being valid, I have no certainly. But I believe God would approve of such devout emotions.   Later, at the end of the novel, when Jeremiah becomes the inheritor of the plantation, he makes a momentous decision that good-minded people today would applaud, but would it have been practicable or even beneficial in the long run during his era?  Does Jeremiah remain at the end of the novel a Jungian Holy Fool, or does he move up with Jungian ladder to become the Hero or savior figure?  I don’t know. I leave the decision to the reader. Of course, not all interpretations would be valid. If someone argued that Jeremiah was the devil in human form or an unwitting agent of the devil attempting to damn Jerry by administering an invalid service, I would shake my head. In a novel an interpretation cannot simply be superimposed upon the action. Most works of literature have pointers to suggest how certain events should be interpreted, but even sometimes skilled readers may disagree about the interpretations.  Nothing suggests that the devil is using Jeremiah to damn Jerry.