Looking Backward: 2000-1887

by Edward Bellamy

  CHAPTER XV.

  When, in the course of our tour of inspection, we came to the library,we succumbed to the temptation of the luxurious leather chairs withwhich it was furnished, and sat down in one of the book-lined alcovesto rest and chat awhile.[3]

  "Edith tells me that you have been in the library all the morning,"said Mrs. Leete. "Do you know, it seems to me, Mr. West, that you arethe most enviable of mortals."

  "I should like to know just why," I replied.

  "Because the books of the last hundred years will be new to you," sheanswered. "You will have so much of the most absorbing literature toread as to leave you scarcely time for meals these five years to come.Ah, what would I give if I had not already read Berrian's novels."

  "Or Nesmyth's, mamma," added Edith.

  "Yes, or Oates' poems, or 'Past and Present,' or, 'In the Beginning,'or,--oh, I could name a dozen books, each worth a year of one'slife," declared Mrs. Leete, enthusiastically.

  "I judge, then, that there has been some notable literature producedin this century."

  "Yes," said Dr. Leete. "It has been an era of unexampled intellectualsplendor. Probably humanity never before passed through a moral andmaterial evolution, at once so vast in its scope and brief in its timeof accomplishment, as that from the old order to the new in the earlypart of this century. When men came to realize the greatness of thefelicity which had befallen them, and that the change through whichthey had passed was not merely an improvement in details of theircondition, but the rise of the race to a new plane of existence withan illimitable vista of progress, their minds were affected in alltheir faculties with a stimulus, of which the outburst of the mediaevalrenaissance offers a suggestion but faint indeed. There ensued an eraof mechanical invention, scientific discovery, art, musical andliterary productiveness to which no previous age of the world offersanything comparable."

  "By the way," said I, "talking of literature, how are books publishednow? Is that also done by the nation?"

  "Certainly."

  "But how do you manage it? Does the government publish everything thatis brought it as a matter of course, at the public expense, or doesit exercise a censorship and print only what it approves?"

  "Neither way. The printing department has no censorial powers. It isbound to print all that is offered it, but prints it only on conditionthat the author defray the first cost out of his credit. He must payfor the privilege of the public ear, and if he has any message worthhearing we consider that he will be glad to do it. Of course, ifincomes were unequal, as in the old times, this rule would enable onlythe rich to be authors, but the resources of citizens being equal, itmerely measures the strength of the author's motive. The cost of anedition of an average book can be saved out of a year's credit by thepractice of economy and some sacrifices. The book, on being published,is placed on sale by the nation."

  "The author receiving a royalty on the sales as with us, I suppose," Isuggested.

  "Not as with you, certainly," replied Dr. Leete, "but nevertheless inone way. The price of every book is made up of the cost of itspublication with a royalty for the author. The author fixes thisroyalty at any figure he pleases. Of course if he puts it unreasonablyhigh it is his own loss, for the book will not sell. The amount ofthis royalty is set to his credit and he is discharged from otherservice to the nation for so long a period as this credit at the rateof allowance for the support of citizens shall suffice to support him.If his book be moderately successful, he has thus a furlough forseveral months, a year, two or three years, and if he in the mean timeproduces other successful work, the remission of service is extendedso far as the sale of that may justify. An author of much acceptancesucceeds in supporting himself by his pen during the entire period ofservice, and the degree of any writer's literary ability, asdetermined by the popular voice, is thus the measure of theopportunity given him to devote his time to literature. In thisrespect the outcome of our system is not very dissimilar to that ofyours, but there are two notable differences. In the first place, theuniversally high level of education nowadays gives the popular verdicta conclusiveness on the real merit of literary work which in your dayit was as far as possible from having. In the second place, there isno such thing now as favoritism of any sort to interfere with therecognition of true merit. Every author has precisely the samefacilities for bringing his work before the popular tribunal. To judgefrom the complaints of the writers of your day, this absolute equalityof opportunity would have been greatly prized."

  "In the recognition of merit in other fields of original genius, suchas music, art, invention, design," I said, "I suppose you follow asimilar principle."

  "Yes," he replied, "although the details differ. In art, for example,as in literature, the people are the sole judges. They vote upon theacceptance of statues and paintings for the public buildings, andtheir favorable verdict carries with it the artist's remission fromother tasks to devote himself to his vocation. On copies of his workdisposed of, he also derives the same advantage as the author on salesof his books. In all these lines of original genius the plan pursuedis the same,--to offer a free field to aspirants, and as soon asexceptional talent is recognized to release it from all trammels andlet it have free course. The remission of other service in these casesis not intended as a gift or reward, but as the means of obtainingmore and higher service. Of course there are various literary, art,and scientific institutes to which membership comes to the famous andis greatly prized. The highest of all honors in the nation, higherthan the presidency, which calls merely for good sense and devotion toduty, is the red ribbon awarded by the vote of the people to the greatauthors, artists, engineers, physicians, and inventors of thegeneration. Not over a certain number wear it at any one time, thoughevery bright young fellow in the country loses innumerable nights'sleep dreaming of it. I even did myself."

  "Just as if mamma and I would have thought any more of you with it,"exclaimed Edith; "not that it isn't, of course, a very fine thing tohave."

  "You had no choice, my dear, but to take your father as you found himand make the best of him," Dr. Leete replied; "but as for yourmother, there, she would never have had me if I had not assured herthat I was bound to get the red ribbon or at least the blue."

  On this extravagance Mrs. Leete's only comment was a smile.

  "How about periodicals and newspapers?" I said. "I won't deny thatyour book publishing system is a considerable improvement on ours,both as to its tendency to encourage a real literary vocation, and,quite as important, to discourage mere scribblers; but I don't see howit can be made to apply to magazines and newspapers. It is very wellto make a man pay for publishing a book, because the expense will beonly occasional; but no man could afford the expense of publishing anewspaper every day in the year. It took the deep pockets of ourprivate capitalists to do that, and often exhausted even them beforethe returns came in. If you have newspapers at all, they must, Ifancy, be published by the government at the public expense, withgovernment editors, reflecting government opinions. Now, if yoursystem is so perfect that there is never anything to criticise in theconduct of affairs, this arrangement may answer. Otherwise I shouldthink the lack of an independent unofficial medium for the expressionof public opinion would have most unfortunate results. Confess, Dr.Leete, that a free newspaper press, with all that it implies, was aredeeming incident of the old system when capital was in privatehands, and that you have to set off the loss of that against yourgains in other respects."

  "I am afraid I can't give you even that consolation," replied Dr.Leete, laughing. "In the first place, Mr. West, the newspaper press isby no means the only or, as we look at it, the best vehicle forserious criticism of public affairs. To us, the judgments of yournewspapers on such themes seem generally to have been crude andflippant, as well as deeply tinctured with prejudice and bitterness.In so far as they may be taken as expressing public opinion, they givean unfavorable impression of the popular intelligence, while so far asthey may have formed public opinion, the nation was
not to befelicitated. Nowadays, when a citizen desires to make a seriousimpression upon the public mind as to any aspect of public affairs, hecomes out with a book or pamphlet, published as other books are. Butthis is not because we lack newspapers and magazines, or that theylack the most absolute freedom. The newspaper press is organized so asto be a more perfect expression of public opinion than it possiblycould be in your day, when private capital controlled and managed itprimarily as a money-making business, and secondarily only as amouthpiece for the people."

  "But," said I, "if the government prints the papers at the publicexpense, how can it fail to control their policy? Who appoints theeditors, if not the government?"

  "The government does not pay the expense of the papers, nor appointtheir editors, nor in any way exert the slightest influence on theirpolicy," replied Dr. Leete. "The people who take the paper pay theexpense of its publication, choose its editor, and remove him whenunsatisfactory. You will scarcely say, I think, that such a newspaperpress is not a free organ of popular opinion."

  "Decidedly I shall not," I replied, "but how is it practicable?"

  "Nothing could be simpler. Supposing some of my neighbors or myselfthink we ought to have a newspaper reflecting our opinions, anddevoted especially to our locality, trade, or profession. We go aboutamong the people till we get the names of such a number that theirannual subscriptions will meet the cost of the paper, which is littleor big according to the largeness of its constituency. The amount ofthe subscriptions marked off the credits of the citizens guaranteesthe nation against loss in publishing the paper, its business, youunderstand, being that of a publisher purely, with no option to refusethe duty required. The subscribers to the paper now elect somebody aseditor, who, if he accepts the office, is discharged from otherservice during his incumbency. Instead of paying a salary to him, asin your day, the subscribers pay the nation an indemnity equal to thecost of his support for taking him away from the general service. Hemanages the paper just as one of your editors did, except that he hasno counting-room to obey, or interests of private capital as againstthe public good to defend. At the end of the first year, thesubscribers for the next either reelect the former editor or chooseany one else to his place. An able editor, of course, keeps his placeindefinitely. As the subscription list enlarges, the funds of thepaper increase, and it is improved by the securing of more and bettercontributors, just as your papers were."

  "How is the staff of contributors recompensed, since they cannot bepaid in money."

  "The editor settles with them the price of their wares. The amount istransferred to their individual credit from the guarantee credit ofthe paper, and a remission of service is granted the contributor for alength of time corresponding to the amount credited him, just as toother authors. As to magazines, the system is the same. Thoseinterested in the prospectus of a new periodical pledge enoughsubscriptions to run it for a year; select their editor, whorecompenses his contributors just as in the other case, the printingbureau furnishing the necessary force and material for publication, asa matter of course. When an editor's services are no longer desired,if he cannot earn the right to his time by other literary work, hesimply resumes his place in the industrial army. I should add that,though ordinarily the editor is elected only at the end of the year,and as a rule is continued in office for a term of years, in case ofany sudden change he should give to the tone of the paper, provisionis made for taking the sense of the subscribers as to his removal atany time."

  "However earnestly a man may long for leisure for purposes of study ormeditation," I remarked, "he cannot get out of the harness, if Iunderstand you rightly, except in these two ways you have mentioned.He must either by literary, artistic, or inventive productivenessindemnify the nation for the loss of his services, or must get asufficient number of other people to contribute to such an indemnity."

  "It is most certain," replied Dr. Leete, "that no able-bodied mannowadays can evade his share of work and live on the toil of others,whether he calls himself by the fine name of student or confesses tobeing simply lazy. At the same time our system is elastic enough togive free play to every instinct of human nature which does not aim atdominating others or living on the fruit of others' labor. There isnot only the remission by indemnification but the remission byabnegation. Any man in his thirty-third year, his term of servicebeing then half done, can obtain an honorable discharge from the army,provided he accepts for the rest of his life one half the rate ofmaintenance other citizens receive. It is quite possible to live onthis amount, though one must forego the luxuries and elegancies oflife, with some, perhaps, of its comforts."

  When the ladies retired that evening, Edith brought me a book andsaid:--

  "If you should be wakeful to-night, Mr. West, you might be interestedin looking over this story by Berrian. It is considered hismasterpiece, and will at least give you an idea what the storiesnowadays are like."

  I sat up in my room that night reading "Penthesilia" till it grew grayin the east, and did not lay it down till I had finished it. And yetlet no admirer of the great romancer of the twentieth century resentmy saying that at the first reading what most impressed me was not somuch what was in the book as what was left out of it. Thestory-writers of my day would have deemed the making of bricks withoutstraw a light task compared with the construction of a romance fromwhich should be excluded all effects drawn from the contrasts ofwealth and poverty, education and ignorance, coarseness andrefinement, high and low, all motives drawn from social pride andambition, the desire of being richer or the fear of being poorer,together with sordid anxieties of any sort for one's self or others; aromance in which there should, indeed, be love galore, but loveunfretted by artificial barriers created by differences of station orpossessions, owning no other law but that of the heart. The reading of"Penthesilia" was of more value than almost any amount of explanationwould have been in giving me something like a general impression ofthe social aspect of the twentieth century. The information Dr. Leetehad imparted was indeed extensive as to facts, but they had affectedmy mind as so many separate impressions, which I had as yet succeededbut imperfectly in making cohere. Berrian put them together for me ina picture.

  [Footnote 3: I cannot sufficiently celebrate the glorious liberty thatreigns in the public libraries of the twentieth century as comparedwith the intolerable management of those of the nineteenth century, inwhich the books were jealously railed away from the people, andobtainable only at an expenditure of time and red tape calculated todiscourage any ordinary taste for literature.]