The virtues of ideological art

By: Ross Douthat / The New York Times
Translation: Agron Shala / Telegrafi.com

What is successful right-wing art? A few weeks ago, on my podcast, I posed this question to Jonathan Keeperman, who runs the far-right publishing house, Passage Press, and you can tell it's a tricky question because he gave two answers, offering one answer during our conversation and another revised one in a subsequent post on Substackshis [platform of writers and journalists].

In his first response, he suggested that we should understand “right-wing art” as any art that tells the full truth about the world, free from the ideological constraints and analytical readings imposed by contemporary progressivism. To me, this seemed like a reasonable approach – reality has a well-known conservative bias, so any art that tells the truth is inherently right-wing – and he tacitly acknowledged this in his subsequent post; there he suggested that the very concept of “right-wing art” might be a categorical mistake, since art cannot be constrained by politics and the artist’s job is to tell the truth and let the political implications take care of themselves.

The second answer is more interesting to creators and critics, but it is not entirely satisfactory either. It certainly does not resolve the internal tension in Keeperman's own publishing project, which attempts to move away from the propaganda that often characterizes right-wing culture in modern America (think of documentaries by Dinesh D'Souza and Christian-inspired films) while simultaneously engaging with the idea that there is a special aesthetic value in the forbidden territory of far-right prose, among writers (from HP Lovecraft to Curtis Yarvin) considered dangerous because of their racism, sexism, or authoritarianism.

The same tension appears in more moderate attempts to repair conservatism's damaged relationship with higher forms of culture. In his new book, Thirteen novels that conservatives will love (but maybe they haven't read them) - [13 Novels Conservatives Will Love (but Probably Haven't Read)] – Christopher Scalia is trying purposefully to educate conservative readers toward a deeper appreciation of literary culture – to add more fiction to the works of political theory and history preferred by many right-wing readers, and to expand the usual list of novelists beloved by conservatives beyond lord of the rings [The Lord of the Rings ], Atlas Shrugged [Atlas Shrugged] and maybe Back to Brideshead [Brideshead revisited].

Thus, he is aware of the danger of instrumentalizing the works he promotes, and for this reason he warns that “any artist who elevates his personal political views above the technique and elements of his craft creates propaganda, not art.” But he still urges people to read Nathaniel Hawthorne, Walter Scott, and PD James because they stand out for a particular philosophical—or ideological—view of the world, not simply for the sake of their artistic prowess. This leaves open the question of whether conscious philosophical or ideological motivations can themselves create special artistic value, rather than inevitably ending up in propaganda.

I think the answer should be yes – that the concepts of “successful right-wing art” and “successful left-wing art” are both meaningful descriptions, not simply categorical errors or justifications for propaganda, as long as both “right” and “left” perspectives on the world capture aspects of reality that can be presented in a way that is not propagandistic.

So when we talk about successful right-wing art, we're talking about art that conveys some aspect of conservative reality that is recognizable and, yet, also recognizable to a left-wing reader as true to life.

To borrow an example from Scalia's book, I think that VS Naipaul's novels and essays on post-colonial societies clearly pass this test: their fundamental positions are reactionary, but the realities they describe are undoubtedly part of the truth about the world, and the serious leftist reader can deny the fulfillment of the portrait while admitting, nevertheless, that something real is being conveyed.

And the same goes for the conservative who engages in successful left-wing art. In my conversation with Keeperman, I briefly mentioned Andor-in, the new series from Star Wars [Star Wars] of [the] “Disney+” [platform], for starting the uprising against the Empire, as an example of pop culture that is openly leftist in its analysis of systems of oppression and in its anti-fascist vision, and also very successful – especially compared to almost every other recent product from Star Wars – in the way it makes its science fiction world seem fulfilled, compelling, real. (Not coincidentally, creator Tony Gilroy is also responsible for one of the best left-wing films of the 21st century, Michael Clayton / Michael Clayton.)

Part of this authenticity reflects the series' willingness to complicate its ideological message, presenting both the potential excesses of radicalism and the evils of imperial oppression. You can't argue in defense of Empire from the material in Andor, but you can see the ways in which a revolutionary impulse can fail.

In a similar way, a major conservative work, like Lord of the Rings, also sometimes complicates or downplays its own reactionary themes, allowing its left-wing admirers to find points of engagement. As Gerry Canavan writes in a recent essay for Dissenter, for left-wing Tolkien fans “there is always a loose thread to pull, an unexpected possibility to consider.” Even when a straightforward reading of the story seems traditional, patriarchal, or otherwise right-wing, he suggests that framing the books as a retrospective history written by the victors means you can read them as a left-wing historiographer would—as “a deeply contested narrative, based on extremely incomplete data and a long and polarizing debate.”

But, putting it this way, the reader or viewer who loves a work, despite disagreeing with its politics, should not simply look for opportunities to pull the narrative toward their own way of seeing the world.

Instead, the leftists who love Tolkien must also recognize—in their strong reaction to a tale of an ancient monarchy restored and supernatural evil vanquished—the possible existence of some truths outside their preferred system. And the same goes for the conservative who appreciates Andoror any other left-wing work: this assessment does not have to bring about ideological conversion, but it should ignite a sudden sensitivity to the left's view of the world.

This flash is the test of politically themed art. It fails if its vision seems artificial to anyone who doesn't share its worldview. It succeeds, not through conversion, but through shock: the feeling that the author or director is telling you something you didn't expect to hear, something you probably don't want to accept, but which nevertheless and somehow has the clear echo of truth. /Telegraph/