Article VIII June 05, 2007

Philosophy disguised as novels, Part III: Rasselas

By the editor

Of Rousseau, Voltaire and Johnson, Samuel Johnson was probably the least suited to novel writing. With Rasselas, however, he seems to have shaped the (format) to himself, rather than shaping himself to the format, and to wonderful effect. An olympic swimmer, no matter the water.

What a beautiful subject for a novel: the pursuit of happiness and the meaning of life, and who better to treat it then Dr. Johnson? Rasselas asks the question: What would life be like if our only occupation was the pursuit of pleasure and leisure?

Thus they rose in the morning and lay down at night, pleased with each other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in the twenty-sixth year of his age, began to withdraw himself from the pastimes and assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks and silent meditation.  He often sat before tables covered with luxury, and forgot to taste the dainties that were placed before him; he rose abruptly in the midst of the song, and hastily retired beyond the sound of music.  His attendants observed the change, and endeavoured to renew his love of pleasure.  He neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and spent day after day on the banks of rivulets sheltered with trees, where he sometimes listened to the birds in the branches, sometimes observed the fish playing in the streams, and anon cast his eyes upon the pastures and mountains filled with animals, of which some were biting the herbage, and some sleeping among the bushes.  The singularity of his humour made him much observed.  One of the sages, in whose conversation he had formerly delighted, followed him secretly, in hope of discovering the cause of his disquiet.  Rasselas, who knew not that any one was near him, having for some time fixed his eyes upon the goats that were browsing among the rocks, began to compare their condition with his own.

I was around twenty-three when I read Rasselas and it coincided with a time in my life where I was wondering ‘what it all means’ and what was the purpose of life? What was the balance we should all strike; what should be learnt, done, given back? Why had so many over the centuries been born to suffer and experience and what were their lives now, what would mine be? I don’t mean to raise the expectations that Rasselas solved these almost unsolveable questions, which are the kind of questions a person can only resolve for themselves. However, there could scarcely be a more intelligent investigation of the substance of human life and the ways in which we delude ourselves and mistakenly look to find happiness in the wrong areas.

My expectations were rather low because I knew Johnson was not a novelist and I understood he had written the entire book in a week. It was therefore surprising and immensely gratifying to encounter a novel which was addressing the thoughts I was pre-occupied with. Johnson’s style is as strong and clear as ever, and it is remarkable to think that by all accounts he spoke as he wrote, easily in complete well formed sentences. Boswell tells us in his ‘Life’ that Johnson trained himself early not to speak till he was entirely certain of the correctness and eloquence of what he would say, and gradually he was able to use the most perfect expressions without pause or hesitation.

The wisdom contained in Rasselas is not the kind that is previously inaccessable or new to all of us, but Johnson puts all of the things we have been told but forgotten, or know but disregard, before us in such strong and forceful terms that we understand them on a level we have not before (or at least this was my experience).

Who, after all, has not smiled through our pain and struggled through our days and lives while believing, like Rasselas, that those around us are not pretending to be happy as well?

Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush the hope of inexperience: till one day, having sat awhile silent, “I know not,” said the Prince, “what can be the reason that I am more unhappy than any of our friends.  I see them perpetually and unalterably cheerful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy.  I am unsatisfied with those pleasures which I seem most to court.  I live in the crowds of jollity, not so much to enjoy company as to shun myself, and am only loud and merry to conceal my sadness.”

“Every man,” said Imlac, “may by examining his own mind guess what passes in the minds of others.  When you feel that your own gaiety is counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that of your companions not to be sincere.  Envy is commonly reciprocal.  We are long before we are convinced that happiness is never to be found, and each believes it possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it for himself.  In the assembly where you passed the last night there appeared such sprightliness of air and volatility of fancy as might have suited beings of a higher order, formed to inhabit serener regions, inaccessible to care or sorrow; yet, believe me, Prince, was there not one who did not dread the moment when solitude should deliver him to the tyranny of reflection.”

Rather than answering the question of what state in life will make one happy, Johnson shows us the flaws in all situations: the rich envy the simplicity of the poor, the poor envy the wealth of the rich, the powerful envy the safety and freedom of the obscure, and the obscure envy the powerful. The learned man is so lost in his studies he has no joy and begins to lose his mind, the sage who preaches to others is not aided by his own philosophy in strife, and the hermit who has left mankind in disgust regrets wasting his life in misery and uselessness.

Though in a sense Rasselas can be thought to convey the message that all situations are unhappy, Johnson’s deeper message can be understood to reside with the individual. Rasselas and his sister search for happiness in outward situations and are dissapointed. Johnson frequently observed throughout his life that people caused their own discomforts and in Rasselas he seems to direct people to look into their own lives for concrete happiness, instead of away from them. He appears to be concluding that it is in making the best of your own situation, rather than looking always to a different situation, that man is to be most content. I feel the need to add on Johnson’s behalf, that this maxim only applies to those who have their basic necessities met, as a hungry person will be much happier if they are fed.

Previous 4 Ramblings:

• Jane Austen vs Fanny Burney, Part III
• Pamela, Shamela and the Universities
• Philosophy disguised as novels, Part I: Candide
• Philosophy disguised as novels, Part II: La Nouvelle Heloise

See all Ramblings