12 / CHRONICLESnprofessionalism of the “Babbitts turned Greeley” with theirnjournalism schools, codes of ethics, and press clubs. It wasnonly a matter of a few years before the old-fashionednreporter turned into a new-style journalist like Tom Wicker,nwhose novels read like columns and whose columns are asntrue to life as the latest Danielle Steel.nIn the case of Mencken himself, political commentarynprovided a lucrative career for a literary essayist. In thisnrespect, he was the heir of Swift and Defoe. But Mencken’snsuccessors in “the profession” are more like the heirs of P.T.nBarnum whose declaration, “There’s a sucker born everynminute,” has made every political journalist an eternalnoptimist.nIt is not that there is no place for political journalism, butnits proliferation—at the expense of all humane learning—nreflects the increasing vulgarization of life in the 20thncentury. Outside academic journals and the little reviews, itnis hardly possible to read about any serious question unlessnit comes to us in the motley dress of a politician. Science isnreduced to genetic engineering and textbook controversies;nreligion and theology are whittled down to the “wall ofnseparation” and the Pat Robertson candidacy.nHistory, perhaps, fares the worst. It is hard to think of anwidely reviewed book of history that was not aimed at somencurrent political issue. In the ease of poetry, it is probablynbetter not to discuss that subject in polite company, butnhow are we to explain the respectable status of Mr.nGinsberg, surely the most prominent political poet sincenPope? If Ginsberg has ever written a line that is neithernmawkish nor obscure, I challenge anyone to point it out.nAnd yet this “grotesque essence” has to be discussed, has tonbe taken seriously because he chants (through his nose) “ofnarms and the man” (preferably the latter, it seems). A mannof letters who wants to make his way in the world surelyncannot afford to ignore the Ginsbergs, Mailers, Roths,nSagans, and Wickers of this world, no matter how much henrecoils in instinct from their drivel; and while he might wishnto take the high ground with Paul Elmer More, he maynsoon find himself on the level of Walter Lippmann, writingnwindy discourses on the American destiny. The position ofna serious-minded journalist becomes as paradoxical as anpolice informant in a drug ring: The more he wants toncorrect the abuses in “the profession,” the more he isncompelled to participate in the degradation. Before too longnhe’s hooked both on the money and the drug (cocaine orncelebrity). More than one aspiring young conservativenpundit has ended up part of the problem. Old men shakentheir heads and mutter, “A boy’s will is the wind’s will” andnlet it go at that.nMost of what we call polities is simply stupid, of littleninterest to grown men and women. The competition of onenset of greedy rascals against another only rarely results in annimportant national election (1980 is an obvious exception).nThe trouble with The Nation in its present form is not sonmuch its politics—who really takes Cockburn seriously?—nbut the triviality of its political obsessions. In some respects.nThe Nation is actually better than its more softheartedncompetition. There are occasional good pieces by film criticnAndrew Kopkind and literary essayist Arthur C. Danto.n(Once in a blue moon Galvin Trillin is half as funny as henthinks he is.) Ghristopher Hitchens is often good, but he isnnnbetter in the Times Literary Supplement (London), wherenthere is less of a party line. The attempt made by “responsiblenliberals” to read The Nation out of the world of politendiscourse is as much.a work of intellectual thuggery as anynof Mr. Goekburn’s columns. In fact, the decline from Morento Navasky is not that much more precipitous than the skidnof other established magazines—although The Nation hadnfarther to go. The New Repubic began publishing in 1914,njust as Paul Elmer More was leaving The Nation. Thenconjunction is significant, since TNR quickly took the leadnin the issues-and-advocacy journalism that developed anmass market among the half-educated products of governmentnschooling. Better than anything, the news and opinionnmagazines symbolize the triumph of general education.nThe fruits of mass literacy can be observed everywhere,nbut it is only when we converse with teachers that we realizenwhat harm has been done. An average high-school teachernis a college graduate possessed of at least ordinary intelligence.nSince it is the teachers’ business to impart ideas andninformation, we expect them to be at least resident aliens innthe realm of letters. But on the rare occasions when theyntalk about books, what do they mention? The women seemnaddicted to drugstore romances and the men typically fallnfor productions like lacocca, Megatrends, or the latestnRobert Ludlum. There are (or used to be) distinguishednexceptions in nearly every school. However, as a class,nteachers have learned nothing worth knowing, by and large,nand (what is worse) they will never learn anything, becausenthey are locked into a mass marketing scheme in whichnissues and ideas are so many brand-name products to benadvertised on Ted Koppcl’s Nightline or the Today Show.nThe most obvious remedy is to give up on mass literacy ornto write anything of value in Latin. Now, more than ever,nwe can agree with Edmund Waller:nPoets who lasting marble seeknMust carve in Latin or in Greek.nThere is at least as large an audience for serious poetry innLatin as for English. Failing a second Renaissance of thenclassics, we might come up with new labels for what thenbook trade puts out. After all, the American Dairy Associationnhas protected the consumer’s interest by restricting thenword cheese to cheese. Everything else is a processed cheesenproduct or a nondairy cheese food. Why not use “processednbook-like product” for the novels of Philip Roth andnnonliterary book matter for Dr. Bill Gosby’s Fatherhood.nPerhaps the National Endowment for the Humanities couldnbe given authority for administering a Eederal truth-inlabelingnlaw for the literary marketplace:nWarning: the enclosed literature-surrogate-materialnby Garl Sagan could be injurious to the IQ andnprose style of public school graduates. Use onlynwith caution under the direction of a competentnscientist or theologian.nSomething like that. The NEH would be performingn(perhaps for the first time in its history) a really usefulnservice. We might even let them hang around after thenrevolution.n—Thomas Flemingn