Tag Archives: Robertson Davies

“People Who Prate of Sentimentality Are Very Often People Who Hate Being Made To Feel…”

“Sentimentality is a flaw in a work of art, certainly, but the word is often thrown at great and overpowering works of art that embarrass critics who live, emotionally, in St. Ogg’s, though intellectually they have journeyed south as far as Cambridge.  The ending of The Mill on the Floss moves me to tears, though I am not an easy weeper.  It is not the immediate pathos of the death of Maggie and Tom that thus affects me:  it is rather that a genuine completion of human involvement has been attained, but attained only through Death.  A happiness beyond mere delight has been experienced – a happiness as blasting and destroying as an encounter with the gods. 

“To my mind, this is anything but sentimental.  People who prate of sentimentality are very often people who hate being made to feel, and who hate anything that cannot be intellectually manipulated.  But the purgation through pity and terror which is said to be the effect of tragedy is not the only kind of purgation that art can bring.  The tempest in the heart that great novels can evoke is rarely tragic in the strict sense, but it is an arousal of feelings of wonder at the strangeness of life, and desolation at the implacability of life, and dread of the capriciousness of life which for a few minutes overwhelms all our calculations and certainties and leaves us naked in a turmoil from which cleverness cannot save us.”

–Robertson Davies, “Phantasmagoria and Dream Grotto,” One Half of Robertson Davies

While I was writing my biography of Winston Churchill, I spent a lot of time thinking about these lines from Roberson Davies. Churchill is often accused of sentimentality, and I had to explain why I thought he was not sentimental.

 

“Every Man Makes His Own Summer.”

“Every man makes his own summer. The season has no character of its own, unless one is a farmer with a professional concern for the weather. Circumstances have not allowed me to make a good summer for myself this year…My summer has been overcast by my own heaviness of spirit. I have not had any adventures, and adventures are what make a summer.”
— Robertson Davies, “Three Worlds, Three Summers,” The Enthusiasms of Robertson Davies

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