Pennington, John

English

St. Norbert College

North Wind: A Journal of George MacDonald StudiesVolume 6 Article 41-1-1987The George MacDonald Industry: A “Wolff ” inSheep’s Clothing?John PenningtonFollow this and additional works at: http://digitalcommons.snc.edu/northwindThis Article is brought to you for free and open access by the English at Digital Commons @ St. Norbert College. It has been accepted for inclusion inNorth Wind: A Journal of George MacDonald Studies by an authorized editor of Digital Commons @ St. Norbert College. For more information,please contact sarah.titus@snc.edu.Recommended CitationPennington, John (1987) "The George MacDonald Industry: A “Wolff ” in Sheep’s Clothing?," North Wind: A Journal of GeorgeMacDonald Studies: Vol. 6 , Article 4.Available at: http://digitalcommons.snc.edu/northwind/vol6/iss1/4North Wind 6 (1987): 40-44Letter to the Editor—The George MacDonald Industry: A “Wolff” in Sheep’s Clothing?John Pennington	 t’s	not	uncommon	today	for	us	to	speak,	somewhat	cynically,	of	the	Shakespeare	Industry,	the	Eliot	Industry,	the	Joyce	Industry:	those	authors	who	have	merited	so	much	output	from	the	critics’	assembly-line	that	they	have	become	a	criticism	industry.	Other	authors	such	as	C.S.	Lewis,	J.R.R.	Tolkien	and	Charles	Williams	are	also	part	of	this	industry,	but	they	are	also	very	popular	with	the	mass-reader.	As	a	result	their	works	are	packaged	and	repackaged	to	entice	yet	more	readers.	More	recently	another	author	has	joined	the	ranks	of	the	Inklings,	a	precursor	and	influence	on	these	men.	I’m	referring	of	course	to	George	MacDonald.	 And	much	of	this	renewed	interest	has	created	some	very	good	MacDonald	products.	Eerdmans	publishes	handsome	editions	of	Phantastes,	Lilith,	and	a	four-book	series	of	MacDonald’s	fantasy	stories.	They	also	publish	the	mass-market	but	useful	study	on	MacDonald,	Rolland	Hein’s	The Harmony Within	(1982).	Puffin	has	editions	of	the	Curdie	books	and	At the Back of the North Wind.	Schocken	has	The Complete Fairy Tales of George MacDonald.	Signet	Classics	has	just	come	out	with	an	edition	of	At the Back of the North Wind,	with	a	succinct	yet	insightful	afterword	by	Michael	Patrick	Hearn.	Under	the	editorship	of	Hein,	Shaw	Publishers	have	compiled	Mac	Donald’s	sermons,	Collier	has	seen	fit	to	reprint	Lewis’s	anthology	on	MacDonald,	and	Augsburg	publishes	the	Diary of an Old Soul.	Better	yet,	there	are	two	scholarly	journals	devoted	mainly	to	MacDonald.	It	looks	as	if	all’s	right	in	the	MacDonald	Industry.	Or	is	it?	Is	there	lurking	a	“Wolff”	in	sheep’s	clothing	ready,	unwittingly,	to	damage	the	MacDonald	Industry?	 Muriel	Hutton,	in	her	reply	to	Roderick	McGillis’s	article,	“George	MacDonald—the	Lilith	Manuscripts”	(SLJ	4,	1977,	40-57),	attacks—and	the	verb	may	not	be	strong	enough—what	she	sees	as	a	MacDonald	exploitation:Dr	McGillis’s	aim,	to	win	readers	for	George	MacDonald,	is	entirely	laudable.	MacDonald	needs	readers,	instead	of	exploiters.	Those	[end of page 40]	readers	need	definitive	editions	to	replace	ever	rarer	copies	of	out-of-print	editions	and	the	money-spinning	reprints	perpetuated	by,	among	others,	IProfessor	R.	Lee	Wolff.	 The	most	profitable	way	for	Ph.Ds	and	other	critics	to	exploit	MacDonald	would	be	to	learn	from	him	how	to	write.	Instead	they	patronise	him	as	one	who	was	not	much	good	at	it;	or	they	come	to	him	with	axes	to	grind,	doing	battle	and,	therefore	failing	to	read	him.	(SLJ	4,	1979,	p.	10)Hutton	seems	to	have	what	MacDonald	would	call	“second	sight,”	for	her	comments	are	more	pertinent	today	than	they	were	in	1979.	My	concern,	ultimately,	is	whether	this	renewed	interest	in	MacDonald—this	industry—is	detrimental	to	MacDonald’s	reputation.	Furthermore,	I’m	concerned	about	the	potential	danger	that	this	industry	may	have	on	future	MacDonald	scholarship.	 My	concern	is	with	the	new	editions	of	MacDonald’s	novels	that	are	being	published	by	Bethany	House	and	Victor	Books.	While	perusing	the	MacDonald	shelf	in	your	local	bookstore	you’ll	encounter	such	titles	as	The Last Castle,	The Shopkeeper’s Daughter,	The Prodigal Apprentice,	The Fisherman’s Lady,	and	many	others.	The	what you	may	ask?	The	lost	books	of	George	MacDonald,	edited	conscientiously	by	a	descendant	of	MacDonald?	Hardly.	These	books	are	edited	versions	of	MacDonald’s	novels,	the	editors	deciding	that	a	name	change,	presumably,	would	help	sell	the	books.	I	would	like	to	look	at	the	implications	of	this	mass	editing	of	MacDonald’s	novels.	 Dan	Hamilton,	editor	of	the	Victor	editions,	argues	in	his	foreword	to	The Prodigal Apprentice	(a.k.a.	Guild Court)	that	there	is	a	“distorted	impression	of	[MacDonald’s]	interests,	talents	and	works,”	and	he	stresses	that	the	new	editions	“should	help	fill	that	gap,	and	[are]	intended	to	make	MacDonald’s	‘forgotten’	works	available	and	affordable	for	a	new	generation”(p.	8).	But	isn’t	an	edited	version—let	alone	a	name-change—creating	a	distorted	impression,	undermining	MacDonald’s	artistic	creation,	distorting	the	very	words	he	labored	over?	Michael	Phillips,	editor	of	the	Bethany	series,	writes	in	his	introduction	to	The Lady’s Confession	(a.k.a.	Paul Faber, Surgeon):	“My	own	personal	vision	has	always	been	to	slowly	work	toward	the	release	of	all	of	MacDonald’s	novels,	working	on	them	at	a	rate	which	enables	me	to	diligently	represent	the	original	author,	[41]	to	whom	and	to	whose	Lord	I	desire	above	all	to	be	faithful	in	my	editing.	Sales	and	promotion	have	never	been	my	primary	concern,	but	a	true	representation	of	the	originals,	in	a	language	understandable	for	today’s	reader”	(p.	11).	Being	a	bit	cynical	myself	I	suspect	that	Phillips	is	aware	that	his	audience—especially	scholars	of	MacDonald—will	conclude	that	his	is	a	money-making	venture.	Why	else	would	such	editions	be	brought	out? The Last Castle	is	based	on	MacDonald’s	St George and St Michael	(1876),	a	three-volume	historical	novel	of	the	English	Puritan	revolution.	The	new	edition	is	a	mere	286	pages,	and	I	read	the	book	in	about	3	hours.	St George and St Michael	I	find	a	pretty	good	historical	novel,	an	oddity	in	the	MacDonald	canon.	The Last Castle,	unfortunately,	is	terrible,	a	bare-bones	sketch,	a	mere	shadow	of	the	original.	A	reader	coming	to	MacDonald	for	the	first	time	via	The Last Castle	will	most	certainly	not	seek	out	any	more	MacDonald	novels,	especially	at	a	$6.95	price	tag.	Alec Forbes of Howglen	(1865),	which	I	consider	MacDonald’s	best	novel,	may	be	one	of	the	finest	Scottish	novels	written	during	the	nineteenth	century,	reflecting	MacDonald’s	talent	for	local	color,	his	finely-tuned	ear	for	Scottish	dialect,	his	love	for	the	Scottish	countryside	and	Burns;	and	MacDonald’s	influence	on	the	“Kailyard	School”	of	fiction	shouldn’t	be	underestimated.	The Maiden’s Bequest	is	Bethany’s	version	of	Alec Forbes,	and	you	might	have	guessed,	the	Scottish	dialect	is	Anglicized,	and	much	of	the	novel	is	eliminated.	Need	I	say	more?	 I	suspect	that	this	editorial	mentality	towards	MacDonald	is	what	Hutton	pinpoints	as	the	patronizing	attitude	toward	a	second-rate	novelist.	My	theory	is	that	we	can	blame	much	of	this,	ironically,	on	C.S.	Lewis,	a	man	who	has	done	more	than	anyone	else	to	renew	the	interest	in	MacDonald.	In	his	Introduction	to	George MacDonald	Lewis	writes:If	we	define	Literature	as	an	art	whose	medium	is	words,	then	certainly	MacDonald	has	no	place	in	its	first	rank—perhaps	not	even	in	its	second	.	.	.	.	The	texture	of	his	writing	as	a	whole	is	undistinguished,	at	times	fumbling.	Bad	pulpit	traditions	cling	to	it;	there	is	sometimes	a	nonconformist	verbosity,	sometimes	an	old	Scotch	weakness	for	florid	ornament	.	.	.	sometimes	an	over-sweetness	picked	up	from	Novalis.	(p.	18)	Lewis’s	theory	is	that	MacDonald’s	writing	is	“mythopoetic,”	which	means	[42]	that	“the	mere	pattern	of	events	is	all	that	matters	.	.	.	.	Any	means	of	communication	whatever	which	succeeds	in	lodging	those	events	in	our	imagination	has,	as	we	say,	done	the	trick.	After	that	you	can	throw	the	means	of	communication	away”	(p.	19).	It	is	not	my	concern	here	to	agree	or	disagree	with	Lewis	(for	the	record,	I	disagree),	but	rather	to	suggest	that	editors’	have	taken	Lewis	literally	and	begun	an	insidious—and	I	don’t	think	the	word	too	strong—editing	job	on	MacDonald.	 Notice	how	Hamilton’s	rationalization	for	his	editing	of	The Last Castle	mirrors	Lewis’s	sentiments:As	in	the	previous	books,	the	aim	has	been	to	make	MacDonald	available,	affordable,	and	readable.	MacDonald	has	few	equals	as	a	storyteller,	but	his	writing	is	overlong,	often	uneven,	and	does	not	always	rise	to	the	same	level	as	his	story.	The	book	in	its	original	version	is	lengthy	and	sometimes	tedious;	I	have	trimmed	away	the	occasional	outbreaks	of	irrelevancy,	eliminated	repetitive	material,	made	consistent	the	choices	of	spelling	and	dialect,	reshuffled	out-of-sequence	scenes,	and	tightened	dragging	narrative.	However,	I	certainly	do	not	represent	my	version	as	better	than	the	original;	it	is	only	easier	to	read,	and	published	now	at	a	price	within	the	grasp	of	many	who	cannot	find	or	afford	the	unfortunately	scarce	originals.	The	original	editions	of	any	MacDonald	novels	(when	and	where	they	can	be	found)	are	well	worth	the	reading,	(p.	228)Hamilton	has	the	same	condescending	attitude	as	does	Lewis,	but	Lewis	was	talking	primarily	of	MacDonald’s	fantasy	literature	(which	no	editor	would	even	consider	altering	from	the	original).	Take	away	the	words	from	a	realistic	novel,	and	you	merely	have	an	outline;	change	dialogue—angli	cize	it—and	you	have	taken	away	the	heart	of	the	work.	And	essentially	these	new	editions	of	MacDonald’s	novels	are	merely	outlines	of	the	originals,	nothing	close	to	the	originals	and,	when	analyzed	as	art,	complete	failures.	 Hutton	laments	that	“MacDonald	studies,	hardly	yet	begun,	seem	to	me	harmed	by	obliquity	and	the	perpetuation	of	canards,	such	as	the	one	that	only	a	handful	of	his	works—fairy	stories,	Phantastes	and	Lilith—are	acceptable	to	what	Dr	McGillis	exalts	into	a	consensus	of	connaisseurs”	(p.	17).	And	ironically	these	new	editions	of	his	novels	may	reinforce	these	canards.	It	is	unfortunate	that	publishers	haven’t	seen	fit	to	reissue	original	reprints	so	MacDonald	can	speak	for	himself.	If,	as	Hamilton	claims,	much	of	MacDonald	is	tedious	and	irrelevant,	then	why	publish	his	novels	at	all?	[43]		 I	suspect	that	the	underlying	motivation	for	these	editions	is	money,	all	at	the	expense	of	MacDonald’s	art.	His	fairy	tales	and	fantasies	have	stood	the	test	of	time—they	are	classics	in	their	own	right.	Such	a	claim	cannot	yet	be	made	of	his	novels,	and	I’m	afraid	that	these	new	editions	just	might	turn	off	future	MacDonald	scholars.	If	the	goal	is	to	have	MacDonald	studied	more	thoroughly,	to	bring	him	to	the	attention	of	scholars	and	lay	readers,	then	we	certainly	need	original	reprints	with	scholarly	introductions.	If	his	novels	don’t	merit	such	scrutiny	then	let	them	rest	in	the	rare	book	rooms.	But	don’t	apologize	for	his	writing,	don’t	edit	his	writing	and	destroy	what	MacDonald	wrote.	When	there’s	so	many	intelligent	studies	on	MacDonald	it’s	a	shame	that	part	of	the	MacDonald	Industry	has	decided	that	price	and	“readability”	are	preferred	over	art.	[44]

The George MacDonald Industry: A “Wolff” in Sheep’s Clothing?

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The George MacDonald Industry: A “Wolff” in Sheep’s Clothing?

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