by David Mahan

David Mahan is co-director of the Rivendell Center for Theology of the Arts, which hosts the Christian Poetics Initiative (CPI) and publishes Among Winter Cranes. He is the author of An Unexpected Light: Theology and Witness in the Poetry & Thought of Charles Williams, Micheal O’Siadhail, and Geoffrey Hill (Princeton Theological Monographs, 2009) and lectures in Religion and Literature at Yale University.

Let me begin by stating the obvious: there is no one critical task for the shaping of a Christian poetics. There are multiple, interweaving tasks undertaken by scholars, all of which fit within Christian approaches to literary criticism in various ways. What I imagine is a longstanding, robust series of conversations around this focus, that refracts in an ongoing discovery of new insights into how Christianity fruitfully engages literature.

A second obvious qualification is that questions about what we mean by ‘Christian’ and what all ‘poetics’ includes remain open-ended. When we say that our literary-critical work is informed by consideration of Christian faith and practices, we do not impose rigid criteria to determine if it qualifies as such, especially given the variety of forms that the faith takes. Moreover, we recognize that many of the beliefs and practices of Christianity are distinctively but not exclusively Christian – though identifying what is distinctive is of crucial importance, as I will argue below. In regard to poetics, there is also disagreement about the scope of interests this includes. I will offer my own view of what a poetics includes, though once more without asserting that the matter is decided in some rigid formulation.

What We Mean by ‘Christian’ and Why It Matters

One of the features of something we call a Christian poetics is that it is in dialogue with theology and religious faith explicitly. Although other approaches to literary criticism may certainly include such interests (think of Womanist theory), this approach must consider how Christians comprehend and articulate their beliefs. The same is the case when one seeks, for instance, to formulate a Jewish or Muslim or Buddhist poetics. Obvious examples of this dialogue between literature and religion emerge when studying the poetry of Dante, Milton, or Gerard Manley Hopkins, or the fiction of Flannery O’Connor, all of whom were self-consciously Christian and whose own faith shaped their literary expression. The question then arises, ‘Can this same approach under the banner of a Christian poetics be applied to any literature, and if so, what would it look like?’ 

Some may contend that yes, of course, when the author is working in a Christian vein we must seek to understand their theology. But a critic working in this same vein when studying the works of authors who do not share that perspective is overstepping, and risks violating the integrity of the literary creation. Indeed, some may argue (have argued) that bringing religion into conversation with literature at all is a harmful imposition, because religious faith and practice are one thing, and literary art is something different entirely. (T.S. Eliot famously explored this tension in his essay “Religion and Literature.”) As a friend and fellow critic once told me, Christianity proffers a general theory of everything, and as such, it is far too unwieldy to be helpfully engaged with the particular nuances of a poem or novel or play; it cannot help but overwhelm a text.

I resist these hesitations on many grounds, but among them is that same assertion made by my friend. It is because a Christian vision is all-encompassing that I feel compelled to consider how it relates to works of the literary imagination, whatever the beliefs of the author. Now, of course, I am a Christian as well as a student and teacher of literature, so what else would I say if I take both my faith and my scholarship seriously? Accepting that the personal commitments of any critic affect their scholarly interests to some degree, can I nonetheless demonstrate that consideration of the beliefs and practices of Christian faith specifically make a positive contribution to literary studies for everyone, again regardless of the work under inspection? Would this also be the case for scholars who share this ambition but do not share the same faith? What do both need to affirm that distinguishes the meaning of ‘Christian’ without risking the kind of imposition that worried my critic friend?

At the heart of a Christian faith in dialogue with literature are some basic and, admittedly, provocative assertions. The apostle Paul declares in his ‘poem to Christ’ in the letter to the Colossians that “Christ is all and all,” that “all things have been created through him and for him” and “in him all things hold together.” Here he echoes John’s Gospel, which declares Christ the Word of God and the “word made flesh,” and the preacher in Hebrews who asserts that Christ is the “radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of God’s nature.” What do we do with this as literary scholars and critics? Considering these assertions central to Christian self-understanding, whatever form this may take, can we describe Christian approaches to literature in terms that do not include them? 

Let me put this more positively. It seems that there can be no distinctive Christian poetics if there is no distinctive Christ.  In this respect, not general theories or sociologies of religion but Christology is the fount for theories of literature and literary-critical practices that we call ‘Christian.’ This is not a call or demand for particular orthodoxies or versions of Christian faith and practice, but the insistence that a Christian vision has something to offer to any human enterprise, including the writing and study and teaching of literature, because of who Christ is, or at least who Christians claim him to be. 

Here let me draw a distinction in order to tease out what this implies for two different kinds of critics. For Christian literary scholars, they would understandably hold that, rather than constricting our literary-critical tasks and imperialistically subjugating works of literature to a Christian understanding, the elaboration and articulation of a Christian poetics enriches literary creation and scholarship. Why? Because Christ is both “all in all” and all in for human beings. If what Christ brings is “life in abundance” (to quote his words in John), then every human enterprise is enriched when those things that make Christ and a Christian vision distinct are included in scholarly work, including our very esteem for works of the imagination. 

For critics of any faith or outlook, what Christian faith affirms about the nature of God and God’s relation to creation through Christ, what it offers as a path for redemption (as well how it engages evil and suffering), and―when it is lived out with integrity―how its vision of community and communion with God and our fellow creatures brings human flourishing, commends its fruitful engagement with literary works. Indeed, such themes are the very stuff of literature, not necessarily expressed in Christian terms but certainly themes about which Christian faith has much to say. To bring what is distinctively Christian to literary discourses draws upon centuries of reflection on the greatest questions we grapple with as human beings. Such an undertaking does not demand conformity to Christian beliefs. Rather, a demonstration of Christianity’s contribution to the study of works of literature in all of their manifold expressions promises an abundance of insight into the abiding concerns that literature and literary scholars likewise explore and grapple with.

What We Mean by ‘Poetics’ and the Shape of a Christian Poetics

When I think of the shape of any poetics I imagine three overlapping circles which find their center in the work under inspection: This means that our understanding of poetics potentially changes with every work of literature, as each manifests its own manner of expression. But for the purposes of outlining the scope of a Christian poetics, in addition to the formal elements of the text I would add accounts of how the text came to be and the theories and practices that guide our study of it. In order to encompass all of these aspects, we might designate these circles Literary Creativity, Literary Creation, and Literary Criticism. 

Literary Creativity explores notions of literary inspiration and authorship, what it is that motivated and guided the work, including the context in which it was written. Literary Creation regards the formal elements of the text, how it works and what effects it works on us. Literary Criticism has to do with how we approach a text, indeed, what we think a literary text is as well as the critical lens and practices we deploy in our study of it. Although a stricter definition of poetics focuses mainly or exclusively on the text or Literary Creation itself, I would argue that because our critical practices involve considerations of Literary Creativity and always deploy particular kinds of Literary Criticism, all three of these overlapping elements constitute our account of literary works, which a poetics designates. Understood in this way, ‘poetics’ becomes a helpful way to comprehend the fuller scope of what our critical tasks involve. 

What does it look like, then, to formulate the shape of a Christian poetics with these overlapping elements in mind? What outcomes would we hope for, especially by way of benefitting literary studies more broadly? Some answers to these questions will be forthcoming in other issues of Among Winter Cranes, which reflect only a fraction of the excellent work being done by literary scholars around the world. But let me suggest a few possible paths in the ongoing conversation that is already in progress. I am not at all attempting to outline every possible path, but only to indicate that there are fruitful approaches available for scholars interested in a Christian poetics.

In regard to Literary Creativity as one element in our account of works of literature, and of how literature works, there is of course the longstanding notion of inspiration, whether the source be a muse or a god or an author’s own imaginative capacity. There have been works by Christian critics that attempt to map divine creativity onto human literary creativity (Dorothy Sayers’ The Mind of the Maker or Michael Edwards’ Towards a Christian Poetics come to mind). And of course an author’s own conception of their work and how it came to be, as well as the historical-cultural context in which it was written, influence how we read it. A Christian approach to this facet might also take up the relationship between authorship and truth-telling or bearing witness (both significant in trauma studies), or ongoing debates over how textual meaning relates to authorial intention (to my mind this debate is not settled). For readers of sacred texts, that connection obviously bears significance, including the notion of what constitutes the sacred.

In the area of the Literary Creation itself, exploring connections between form and meaning is also of keen significance to our reading practices and any conclusions we reach about the kind of work a particular text achieves. Formal studies in ‘sacramental poetics,’ for example, represent an approach that resonates with distinctively Christian interests, as do studies in ‘incarnational poetics’ or what I call in my own classes ‘reading literature theologically,’ which seeks to include theological interests inspired by texts and to develop skills in reading works of literature in their own terms without imposing those interests on them. 

There is also in the area of formal textual studies the attention we pay to content, with vast possibilities for engagement with a Christian critical lens. Poems, fiction, drama, memoirs that explore the human condition, that wrestle with or hold forth notions of redemption or love or community, that wonder about what it means to be a human being or a creature, about the divine, human history and destiny, about our relationship to the world and the universe, all have immediate resonances with a Christian vision. In this respect, whether a work is self-consciously or explicitly addressing these issues from a Christian perspective, such thematic interests intersect with even the most distinctive elements of Christian faith. How can conversations along these lines be created in ways that respect the integrity of a work but also help to illuminate our understanding of it with fresh insight?

In regard to Literary Criticism, let me say first that a Christian poetics is not meant to be the dominant or the only critical approach to literature that a literary scholar includes in their ‘toolbox.’ The fact is, critics borrow from a range of theoretical and practical approaches, which prove to be most promising when they are brought into conversation with each other. Not only might a range of critical practices be brought to bear when examining an individual work, but those same practices can be in dialogue as a scholar conducts their critical undertaking. 

The fruitfulness of this multi-level interchange was evident in a class I taught this fall on the literature of trauma. Just to cite one example, our study of Toni Morrison’s Beloved generated lively discussions that included Christian perspectives on racism and redemption, and were made richer by the inclusion of feminist, womanist, and other critical theory perspectives. Not only did Christian perspectives help to illuminate the work that this magnificent novel does, but those same perspectives were in turn illuminated by the insights and sensitivities brought from other critical emphases. The result in our study of this and other literatures of trauma was an invigorating exchange. My own Christian poetics approach expanded in terms of what critical elements it includes, both feeding and being fed by those of others. It did not dominate the conversation, but proved a significant part of a course of study that was enriched for all of us.

This is not to say that a Christian critique of critical theories and practices is not needed, particularly when these tend to marginalize serious consideration of the religious. Recent developments that diagnose criticism in the mode of a ‘post-secular’ and ‘post-critique’ redress have opened up new opportunities for Christian critical perspectives to participate in the broader discourses of literary criticism in their own terms. These developments have been met with resistance by some, naturally, but scholars interested in formulating a Christian poetics want to attend to the state of the discipline, so to speak, and discover avenues by which they can realize more fully the distinct contributions of those voices within the field at large.

Ways Forward

Again, the above only begins to indicate how an interest to explore and advance Christian perspectives and insights in literary studies might take shape. From the vast amount of work being done (particularly in the area of literature and religion but also Christianity and literature) as well as the work yet to be done, I only see opportunities. What this looks like, and how we answer even the fundamental question, ‘What do we mean by a Christian poetics and why does it matter?’ remains an exciting way forward. 

Every scholarly undertaking involves both a recovery project – what has been lost or neglected that need to be rediscovered? – and a discovery project – what new insights are possible, or needed? The critical task, or tasks, of shaping a Christian poetics in the present moment is also both. On the one hand, it seeks to excavate and bring to bear the wealth of resources that Christian faith offers. On the other hand, it is also a pioneering enterprise. There is no canon of sources, and not even a clearly defined tradition (this may also be an advantage!). But we do have a legacy of Christian thought about literature, as well as centuries of literature written by Christians. 

What we do to extend this legacy in the 21st century seeks neither system nor synthesis, so in this respect we are always ‘shaping’ a Christian poetics. But the promise of enriching literary studies in ways that flow from attention to Christianity’s own distinctive sensibilities, affirmations, commitments, and resources, suffers no loss by maintaining such openness. My hope is that many will take up this enterprise.

David Mahan

Lecturer in Religion and Literature, Yale Institute of Sacred Music, Yale Divinity School
Co-Director, Rivendell Center for Theology and the Arts
david.mahan@yale.edu, david.mahan@thercta.org