Clinton's Literary Trash
by Scott Wilkerson
The end of the Clinton Age is near. But he is leaving behind the grotesque imprimatur of his trashy style on the distinguished history of American letters. President Clinton, has named Maya Angelou and Toni Morrison as the two principal recipients, respectively, of this year's Arts and Humanities Medals. That he makes this move at a moment when everyone is calling hysterically for leaders to reach out and embrace the "other side," demonstrates, unequivocally, that for all Clinton's mythic intelligence, he is finally incapable of sophisticated or textured judgements. Maya Angelou! Toni Morrison!
One is simply astonished at the outrageous implausibility of placing either of these literary lightweights beside, say the ingenious Eudora Welty, who was awarded the Arts medal in 1987 or even the socialist philosopher John Rawls, who won the Humanities medal last year. But one is not surprised by the absurd tedium of his choices; indeed, celebrating the least talented among our writers has become de rigeur for the Left.
Certainly, these awards are intended to chastise and enlighten white males for having cruelly repressed the splendid achievements of all black women. Yet, at the same time, they also codify the northeastern establishment's hate of all things southern. So, Clinton monstrously showers fools like Angelou and Morrison in PC state adulation while confirming New York's suspicion that nothing of real importance comes out of the South.
Everyone knows Rodney Jones is the preeminent living southern poet. The list of novelists is more controversial, including John Barth, Mary Lee Settle, George Garrett, Madison Jones, Lee Smith, Harry Crews and Peggy Russell, but not Toni Morrison except perhaps in some wacked out alternative universe where Al Gore actually means what he says. No such place exists.
Here, then is simply more evidence of the predictable, plodding, victimological gynofication of America. Many who wondered, in the context of our bizarre 2000 presidential election, what the world would think about us might ask the same question on the sad occasion of Clinton choosing, for our highest national arts and humanities honors, two minor talents who, for ideological reasons, were promoted to the first ranks and never had either the grace or the ontological wit to retreat with their door prizes while they still appeared legitimate.
Of course, all this leaves aside the question of whether a national arts award makes any sense at all. But if we must do something so wrong, we may as well do it right.
December 18, 2000
Scott Wilkerson is curator of the Ward Library at the Mises Institute.
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