aided and abetted by the witness of one’snforefathers—^in this instance Mr. Brooksnhimself talking about theme, character,nplot in selected stories and novels of angreat novelist. It is our good fortune (andnFaulkner’s) that Mr. Brooks is himselfnSouthern; he knows firsthand the languagenand customs Faulkner draws uponnand often assumes common to hisnreader. Given the inevitable lapse fromnold ways and words, Mr. Brooks can providena continuity that helps us avoid misunderstanding.nFirst Encounters is in ansignificant way a companion to that “NewnCritic” text that revolutionized thenteaching of literature in the academy,nthe famous or (in some quarters) notoriousnBrooks and Warren UnderstandingnPoetry {95S).nHow refreshing are Mr. Brooks’s delightnin The Hamlet and his eagerness tonshare its rich fullness, while being consideratenof the reader’s rights of discovery.nIt is as if Mr. Brooks has practicednhis art for a long time to be prepared tonrender homage, not only to a great artist,nbut to our shared life. That ordinatenhomage is a gift to us. Alas, this book is ofna kind made almost impossible by modernnacademic concerns for civilizationnwhich require the habit of a detachmentnfrom existence, a detachment which isncalled “objectivity” but which most oftenncan provide only sterile abstractions ofnart or life suited to the mechanics ofnpublication, lest the scholar perish innthe academic marketplace. (If we werenwise in our concern for civilization wenmight discourage young scholars fromnpublishing books. To publish out of one’sngifts rather than as a necessity dictatednby a job description might produce atnlast such wise works as this, in whichnone has a civilized host serving our mutualnhumanity to its good health.)nMr . Brooks as “New Critic”—^and indeednthat whole amorphous movementn—^appears to be, increasingly, misunderstoodnand blamed for a range of ills fromnthe “deconstructionist” fad to the deathsnof poets like John Berryman and RobertnLowell. New Critic porridge can bendeadly, of course, depending upon thenpartakers. The “Southern” members ofnthat movement, however, are too oftennmisrepresented by some who properlynlament literature’s turning against itselfnin deconstructionism or bewail the suicidesnof gifted poets. I think we may getnat the point best by turning to FlannerynO’Connor’s The Presence of Grace, a collectionnof her brief reviews, contributednfor the most part to her diocesan paper,n7776 Georgia Bulletin. She is speaking tona more restricted audience than doesnMr. Brooks, to Georgia Catholics.nMiss O’Connor’s reasons for writingnthese reviews are interestingly complex.nShe is concerned with “the generallynlow level of Catholic taste” for one thing,nin art, history, theology. She playfijUy refersnto this work as acts of penance, butnthere is a serious edge to the play, givennher recognition of how ineffective thenreviews are likely to be. They do aUo^vnher to pursue her interest in Old Testamentnstudies as a dimension of her fictionalnconcern with prophecy; in disciplinedndescriptions of work by Maritain,nGUson, Voegelin, and others, she confirmsnher understanding of art and history.nFor those who savor the compact incisivenessnof Miss O’Connor’s writings,nthis collection is a pleasure.nShe castigates a new novel as “fictionalizednapologetics” which “introduces andepressing new category: light Catholicnsummer reading.” She observes elsewheren”the clerical gift for bringingnforth the sonorous familiar phrase ofnnnslowly deadening effect.” Zen, she observes,nsince it is “non-concepmal, nonpurposive,nand non-historical,” is thereforen”admirably suited to be exploitednby the non-thinker and pseudo-artist.”nShe advises her local audience thatnCaroline Gordon’s How to Read a Novel,n”along with Maritain’s Art and Scholasticism,nshould be studied by any Catholicngroup making public pronouncementsnabout literature.” In reviewing a novelnby Julian Green, she laments that “Spokesmennfor the deUver-us-from-gloom schoolnof Catholic criticism have found that thisnnovel commits the unpardonable sin: it isndepressing.” She, to the contrary, declaresnit written “with great deftness andndelicacy and with a moral awarenessnthat comes only with long contemplationnon the nature of charity it offersnno solutions by the author in the namenof God,” being “completely lacking innfalse piety.” Above all, she warns hernSouthern Catholic audience to protectnifeelf against the “assumption that therenis a brand of criticism special to Catholicsnrather than that any good criticism willnreflect a Catholic view of reality.”n1 he collection, being the work of angifted and devoted observer of humanity,nis both a delight on its own meritsnand a rich mine for those students burdenednby term papers and theses, thoughnshe would most likely regret such necessities.nHer interest in Hazel Motes of WisenBlood or young Tarwater in The ViolentnBear It Away is reflected in her remarksnon grace, especially her concern for distinctionsnbetween Catholic and Protestantnunderstandings. One discovers alsonadditional evidence of her own indebtednessnto the New Criticism, her uses ofnwhich make interesting juxtaposition tonthat of her contemporaries like Berrymannand Lowell. In a generally perceptivenessay in The American Poetry Reviewn(May/June 1983), Marjorie Perloffnexamines those “Poetes Maudits of thenGenteel Tradition,” finding them poisonednby the “brooksandwarren” (LoweU’snword) approach to poetry. She findsni23nMay 1984n