The Writer's Great Task: Samuel Johnson and the Discipline of Fiction
Moral Duty as a Bulwark Against the Individualism of the Novel
Introduction: Taming the New and the Familiar
“The two most engaging powers of an author,” Samuel Johnson famously declared, “are to make new things familiar, and familiar things new.” This celebrated aphorism is more than a piece of writerly advice; it is the strategic blueprint for a massive cultural project. For Johnson, the dominant literary figure of the English Enlightenment, writing was a profound public duty aimed at clarifying truth and improving humanity. Yet this duty took on a special urgency in his time. This article argues that Johnson’s critical project was a deliberate attempt to discipline the emerging novel, framing the writer’s moral responsibility not simply as a call to virtue, but as a necessary bulwark against the dangerous psychological and social individualism unleashed by modern print culture.
While later Romantics would champion the expression of a unique inner vision, Johnson saw the writer’s primary material as the enduring, universal truths of human nature. He sought to transform fiction, a revolutionary new form focused on private experience, from a medium of potentially corrupting fantasy into an instrument for reinforcing public, universal truth. His philosophy was thus a powerful conservative response to the radical new possibilities of literature in the 18th century.
The Rise of the Novel and the Threat of the Particular
To understand the force of Johnson’s position, one must recognize the literary landscape he surveyed. The novel, as charted by critics like Ian Watt, was a startling innovation defined by its “formal realism”—its detailed representation of the life of the private individual (Watt 32). Works by authors like Defoe and Richardson invited readers into the intimate consciousness of their protagonists, validating private experience as a primary source of truth.
For Johnson, this development was fraught with peril. A literature based on the particularities of individual lives risked elevating personal whim over general wisdom and promoting a dangerous form of sentimental escapism. As his biographer Walter Jackson Bate notes, Johnson was deeply suspicious of the “hunger of imagination which preys incessantly upon life,” fearing that idle fantasy could detach the mind from reality and moral responsibility (Bate 310). The novel, with its focus on the minute details of private life, was the perfect vehicle for this kind of dangerous imaginative indulgence. It threatened to replace the universal “theatre of the world” with the solipsistic closet of the self.
The Johnsonian Prescription: General Nature and Moral Instruction
Johnson’s response to this threat was to articulate a powerful counter-theory of literature, one grounded in classical ideals of universality and moral purpose. In his fourth essay for The Rambler (1750), he sets out his manifesto, explicitly rejecting triviality to embrace a graver task:
I have, therefore, chosen as the subject of my speculations, whether moral or critical, the great moving scene of life, and have practiced to make my observations upon the various characters which distinguish themselves upon the theatre of the world. (Johnson 10)
Johnson’s language here is tactical. He positions the writer not as a creator of private worlds but as a philosophical observer of the public “theatre of the world.” His goal is to derive universal lessons from this scene, transforming “trivial occurrences into opportunities of instruction.” This same principle underpins his famous Preface to Shakespeare (1765), where he praises the playwright for dealing not in idiosyncratic passions but in “general nature.” The poet, he insists, “does not number the streaks of the tulip”; instead, he presents a vision of reality that is universally true and therefore morally useful (Johnson 66). This was a direct assault on the novel’s obsession with the very “streaks” of individual character.
The Writer as Public Legislator
Johnson’s project extended beyond mere theory. Through his monumental Dictionary of the English Language and his critical biographies in Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets, he sought to establish and enforce standards, to bring order to the chaotic world of letters. He acted as a self-appointed moral legislator for the burgeoning print culture, believing that this power came with a solemn obligation. The purpose of literature, in his view, was to teach “the best end of writing”—the art of living well.
His philosophy demanded that fiction present a “just representation of general nature” to guide the reader toward virtue. This meant that characters should be morally legible and plots should demonstrate the ultimate triumph of good over evil. He famously criticized Shakespeare for failing to dispense poetic justice, a sign of how deeply he believed literature should serve an explicit didactic function. For Johnson, a well-crafted sentence was a tool for a well-ordered mind, and a well-ordered mind was the foundation of a virtuous life and a stable society.
Conclusion: A Moral Counter-Revolution
Samuel Johnson’s insistence on the moral function of literature was more than the opinion of a pious man; it was a robust and coherent intellectual counter-revolution against the radical individualism of his age. He saw in the novel a powerful new technology of the self and recognized its potential to destabilize the shared moral consensus he held dear. His entire critical enterprise can be understood as an attempt to harness this new medium, to discipline its energies, and to ensure that the power to “make new things familiar, and familiar things new” was used not for private pleasure, but for the public good. While modern literature has largely embraced the very individualism Johnson feared, his perspective remains a powerful and necessary challenge, forcing us to ask the question he believed was paramount: What is writing for?
Works Cited
- Bate, Walter Jackson. Samuel Johnson. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1977. [↩]
- Johnson, Samuel. The Rambler, No. 4 (1750). From The Works of Samuel Johnson, Vol. 2, edited by Arthur Murphy, George Dearborn, 1834. [↩]
- Johnson, Samuel. "Preface to Shakespeare." The Yale Edition of the Works of Samuel Johnson, Vol. 7, edited by Arthur Sherbo, Yale University Press, 1968. [↩]
- Watt, Ian. The Rise of the Novel: Studies in Defoe, Richardson and Fielding. University of California Press, 1957. [↩]
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