have it, the repression of all that is noblenin man in favor of contrived and corruptingnrelationships. Its essence liesnin the control and direction of creativenenergies. This implies, of necessity, thendeferral of gratification. But, even morenimportant, no directed and controlledncreativity is possible without the tolerancenof varying ideas and without civilitynto govern the discourse concerningnthem. It is this that the coercive Utopiansnof our time—cousins to the Rousseauians—nevernunderstand.nPrimitive societies tend toward rigiditynof thought and expression, parochialismnof viewpoint, poor control over aggression,nmagical thinking and intolerancenfor the new. All of this is preciselynwhat the romantics wrongly assume toncharacterize civilization. The conversenis also true. Only in civilized societynis equity justice the rule, and only inncontemporary Euro-American societynis actual social mobility routinely possiblenand a niche available for every conceivablenbrand of human peculiarity.nBut our attention is ever drawn innDaws’s book to the issue of sexuality;nas indeed it seems so drawn by the ideologicalnoutpourings of the coercivenUtopians. One of the first things mostnEuropeans noticed (at the very least theynnoticed it!) about Oceania was the easenof sexual expression, and it was one ofnthe most attractive aspects of the SouthnSeas. Certainly that ease existed. As wenhave noted above, a good deal of it wasninstrumental in nature, but not all of itnby a long shot. Yet, as these observersnand others came to know, there was ancurious flatness of affect here. Sexualnexpression was not tied to a depth ofnemotional involvement which we havencome to identify as maturity. If Europeansnof the 18th and 19th centuriesnwere more sexually repressed, we maynwell argue that this was a temporarynphenomenon attendant upon a greaterndegree of personal control which, at thensame time, provided them with their farnsuperior culture and intellectual frameworknand, indeed, quite likely with angreater capacity for mature relationshipsnwith others.nxresent-day liberal thinkers tend tonbelieve that contemporary Euro-Americannsociety is excessively repressive sexuallynand in need of (what already appearsnto have been substantially accomplished)nan increase in free sexualnexpression. One is, however, tempted tonask, “repressive in comparison to what.?”nThe Utopian’s favorite nonprimitive societies,nthe socialist paradises, are prudishnbeyond belief. The few primitive societiesn(the very few) with open sexualnexpression have other, more terrible,ndeficiencies. Such a model of primitivensociety would lead to substantial lossesnof capacity to relate to others. Indeed,nsome of our most pathetic casualtiesnare those who took too seriously thendicta to be sexually free, to forgetnmonogamy, to abandon sexual restraintnand indulge every whim. Their disorientation,nin part caused by the liberal nitwitsnwho encouraged them, is then attackednby the same liberals as exploitative.nThe evolution of the capacity tonexpress freely one’s sexuality while retainingna respect for the hard-won rulesngoverning mature human love is notnonly possible, it is taking place in ournThe Dangerous EdgenGraham Greene: Doctor Fischer ofnGeneva or The Bomb Party; Simonn& Schuster; New York.nby Robert C. SteensmanxVt an age when most writers areneither intellectually dead or have writtennthemselves into redundancy or irrelevance,nGraham Greene at seventy-sixnstill writes without any diminution ofneither talent or freshness. And at a timenwhen the English and American novelnhas degenerated into the popular kinki-nDr. Steensma is professor of Englishnat the University of Utah.nnnown society. In the absence of a strongncore of personal control, unrestrainednsexual activity simply leads to chaos fornthe individual and for society.nAnd so we stand at a distance, watchingnEuropeans of an earlier century whonwere entranced by the vision, indeed thenchimera, of a perfect pre-Eden society,ntrying to ignore its defects and projectingnits make-believe ideals on a Europeannculture. A closer view reveals thensad truth. Each of these individuals wasngravely flawed and had a dramaticallyndamaged personality. Could it be thatnthey were not truly representative ofntheir own society.’ Could it be that ournown coercive Utopians, in their vituperativensupport of irrationality, are equallynnonrepresentative.”nOur own “noble savage” thinkersnhave bounced from one god to anothern—Russia, China, Cuba, obscure peyotechewingnIndians—anything to avoidnconfronting the realities of their selves,nall the while projecting their own imperfectionsnonto society. They, as Dawsnfound of the earlier Rousseauians, don’tnreally want those islands. They want thendream of islands. It’s all in theirnheads. Dnness of a world according to Garp,nGreene continues to explore the dilemmanof the human spirit in a world fromnwhich God has been exiled and replacednby mindless materialism, moral relativismnand loveless humanitarianism.nFor over fifty years and in twentythreennovels (two of them later “withdrawn”)nas well as a substantial body ofnshort stories, essays, film reviews andnplays, Greene has dealt with humanity’snself-alienation from God and the resultantnmoral chaos in which men andnwomen, like Castle in The Human Factor,nseek “the interior of that dark continentn… a city where he could benaccepted as a citizen . . . without anyni33nIMovember/Dcccmbcr 1980n