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Comparative Literature: East & West
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Academic Barbarism Reconsidered—A
Comparative Study of Vladimir Nabokov’s Pnin and
Qian Zhongshu’s Fortress Besieged
Derong Cao
To cite this article: Derong Cao (2020): Academic Barbarism Reconsidered—A Comparative
Study of Vladimir Nabokov’s Pnin and Qian Zhongshu’s Fortress�Besieged , Comparative
Literature: East & West, DOI: 10.1080/25723618.2020.1781385
To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/25723618.2020.1781385
© 2020 The Author(s). Published by Informa
UK Limited, trading as Taylor & Francis
Group.
Published online: 09 Jul 2020.
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Academic Barbarism Reconsidered—A Comparative Study of
Vladimir Nabokov’s Pnin and Qian Zhongshu’s Fortress
Besieged
Derong Cao
School of Humanities and Social Science, The Chinese University of Hong Kong (Shenzhen), Shenzhen,
Guangdong, P. R. China
ABSTRACT
In Academic Barbarism, Michael O’Sullivan coins the eponymous
term and analyzes its diverse manifestations. He believes that the
notion is worthy of more attention both in academia and beyond.
This essay examines Nabokov’s Pnin and Qian’s Fortress Besieged in
light of Michel Henry’s theory of barbarism as suppression of life.
The essay unfolds around three essential questions in academia
that concern both authors: the intrusion of the power structure of
society into academia; the rampant scientism in academia; and
academics’ blind faith in pedagogy. I argue that, writing some
sixty years ago, Nabokov and Qian were already aware of the multi-
ple educational problems that beset academia, thus qualifying
them as prophets of the academic barbarism that is looming large
on the horizon of today’s higher education.
摘要
在《学界野蛮主义》一书中, 迈克尔·欧沙利文提出了学界野蛮主
义这一概念并对其诸多表现形式进行了细致分析。欧沙利文认为
这一概念无论在学界内外都应受到更多重视。本文以米歇尔·亨
利的生命哲学为理论基础, 检视纳博科夫的《普宁》及钱锺书的
《围城》两部作品中的学界野蛮主义。文章围绕两位作家共同关
心的三个学界问题展开:社会权利结构对学界的入侵; 在学界肆虐
的唯科学主义; 以及学人对教学法的盲从。虽然两部作品成书于
六十余年之前, 作者对于学界所面临的诸多问题却有着敏锐且深
刻的认识。两位作者对学界野蛮主义的思考对今天被各种野蛮主
义困扰的学界仍有重要启示意义。
ARTICLE HISTORY
Received 29 June 2019
Accepted 8 June 2020
KEYWORDS
Academic barbarism; Michel
Henry; Pnin; Fortress Besieged
关键词
学界野蛮主义; 米歇尔·亨
利; 《普宁》; 《围城》
In Academic Barbarism, Michael O’Sullivan coins the eponymous term and analyzes its
diverse manifestations. O’Sullivan notes that the concept of barbarism has recently
undergone “an important critical reappraisal” (13). Radu Vasile Chialda, for instance,
problematizes the dichotomous definition held by ancient Greeks who believed “every-
one not a Greek is a barbarian.” O’Sullivan draws our attention to a form of “weak
barbarism,” which is not ostensibly contrary to the principles of civilization and works in
a “far more indirect way than ‘strong barbarism’ by acting through the ‘normative
inadequacies’ of policy or law that societies allow to develop” (13). O’Sullivan’s analysis
CONTACT Derong Cao dylancao@cuhk.edu.cn School of Humanities and Social Science, The Chinese University
of Hong Kong (Shenzhen), Shenzhen, Guangdong, TB 506, P. R. China
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE: EAST & WEST
https://doi.org/10.1080/25723618.2020.1781385
© 2020 The Author(s). Published by Informa UK Limited, trading as Taylor & Francis Group.
This is an Open Access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/
licenses/by/4.0/), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly
cited.
focuses on the sociopolitical dimension of academic barbarism and he delves deep into
the perils of “university ranking rubrics, meritocratic extremism, and shared testocratic
cultures” (O’Sullivan 14).
In this essay, I slightly expand the notion of academic barbarism and analyze one of its
sub-types, i.e. academic barbarism as the suppression of life. Through a comparative
analysis of Nabokov’s Pnin and Qian’s Fortress Besieged in light of Michel Henry’s
philosophy, I demonstrate that both authors were alert to the diverse forms of barbarism
that were burgeoning in academia. My discussion of academic barbarism in the two texts
will revolve around three central problems that both authors believe beset academia: the
intrusion of the power structure of society into academia; the rampant scientism in
academia; and academics’ blind faith in pedagogy. Although Nabokov and Qian were
writing well over half a century ago in the 1950s and 60s, their masterly representations of
the barbaric phenomena in higher education are still edifying for educators today.
1. Nabokov and Qian as writers of academic novels
Nabokov, during his happy exile in the US, entered many professions, among which
university professorship is a particularly significant one. Despite his lack of academic
credentials, Nabokov was able to find teaching positions, first at Wellesley College, and
from 1948 at Cornell until the monumental success of Lolita, which enabled him to give up
teaching altogether in 1959. Nearly two decades’ campus life not only made him financially
stable, but also provided him with insights into the educational system and provided fodder
for his literary art. During the late 1930s and early 40s, Qian, the great Chinese litterateur,
also took up various university teaching positions, first at the renowned Southwest
Associated University in Kunming, China and then at several local colleges. Almost
a decade’s teaching experience well acquainted him with “what Chinese wartime higher
education is all about” (243), to borrow Chao Hsin-mei’s words in Fortress Besieged.
Both Nabokov and Qian brought their inside knowledge of campus life to bear in their
works. Qian’s only finished novel, Fortress Besieged, fits well into the genre of academic
novel, though it is much more than that. C. T. Hsia argues that the novel “recalls such
famous Chinese novels as The Unocial History of the Literati,” but is “superior to them
in possessing greater comic exuberance and a structural unity” (441–42). Similarly, two
of Nabokov’s major works – Pnin, which I will discuss in detail in this essay, and Pale
Fire – are also, to a large extent, academic novels. In “The Rise of the Academic Novel,”
Jeffrey J. Williams contends, “it is useful to distinguish among novels that center on
students and those that center on professors” (561). He calls the former “campus novels”
because they “tend to revolve around campus life and present young adult comedies or
dramas, most frequent coming-of-age narratives” (561–62). He designates the latter
“academic novels” because they “feature those who work as academics [. . .] and they
portray adult predicaments in marriage and home as well as the workplace, most
familiarly yielding mid-life crisis plots” (562). If we follow Williams’s distinction, we
will have to conclude that both Qian’s Fortress Besieged and Nabokov’s Pnin are mixtures
of the two subgenres. To be more specific, in Fortress Besieged, though Fang the
protagonist and other major characters are academics, the students frequently take the
center stage and provide the momentum for plot development. In Pnin, again the plot
revolves around the protagonist and his colleagues, who are academics. Yet students also
2D. CAO
occasionally come to the fore. However, it is safe to say that Pnin is more of an academic
novel in that college students feature much less prominently in it than Pnin’s predica-
ments in the workplace, and mid-life crisis.
Despite the difference, both works share a deep concern with the diverse problems
within higher education institutions. According to David Lodge, the “two principle
sources of motivation in the campus novel, which generate conflict between the char-
acters and move the plot, are sex (usually illicit) and power (often involving a struggle
over promotion or tenure)” (xiii). The first motivation is only tangentially touched on in
Pnin and not particularly relevant to the discussion of academic barbarism in this essay.
In Fortress Besieged, it is strictly speaking not sex but interactions with members of the
opposite sex that occupy the center stage. The second motivation, by contrast, constitutes
a central theme in both novels. We witness struggles over promotion and intra-academic
machinations, which threaten the expulsion of the protagonists in both works. My
following analysis will also center on this latter motive, which is a major form of
academic barbarism.
2. Academic barbarism as suppression of the culture of life
Qian’s Fortress Besieged, which presents a group portrait of Chinese intellectuals during
the Japanese invasion, touches upon a number of educational issues that are still relevant
today. The protagonist Fang Hung-chien, not a particularly dedicated student during his
study in Europe, has to purchase a doctorate from a diploma mill to fulfill his father’s
wish. Having briefly dallied in Shanghai where he takes up a sinecure in a local bank, he
receives an offer of professorship from a newly established college – San Lü College – in
hinterland China. The college, as Dennis T. Hu aptly describes, is a “virtual zoo of lowly
characters” and Fang’s colleagues are “anything but scholars [. . .] an assortment of mean,
vain, and devious hypocrites” (429). When Kao Sung-nien, president of the college,
receives the appointment to set up the college, his old friends give him a farewell party,
during which they express the worry that the college may not be able to recruit
prominent professors considering the backwardness of its locus. To this, Kao replies
with confidence:
名教授當然很好, 可是因為他的名望, 學校沾著他的光, 他並不倚仗學校裡的地位° 他
有架子, 有脾氣, 他不會全副精神為學校服務, 更不會絕對服從當局的指揮 . . .. 找一批
沒有名望的人來, 他們要借學校的光, 他們要靠學校才有地位, 而學校並非非有他們不
可° (Qian, Weicheng 203; “Of course, it’d be nice to have a well-known professor. With his
prestige, the school would gain from his affiliation, while he himself would not be dependent
on the school. If he were haughty or temperamental, he would not devote himself fully to the
school nor obey absolutely the commands of his superior. [. . .] If unknowns are brought in,
they will have to look to the school for favors and depend on the school for their status, while
the school will not be beholden to them” (Kelly 209–10)
Kao here seems to be expressing a deeper insight than his friends about the university-
professor relation. While Kao’s friends are more inclined to hire prominent professors,
which in turn contribute to the fame of the college, Kao tends to recruit lesser-known
ones, which are likely to serve the college whole-heartedly. Kao’s remarks may sound
highly plausible for the healthy development of a newly established college yet a closer
examination of this “gospel truth” will reveal that Kao and his friends share this deep
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE: EAST & WEST 3
concern with utility, be it fame or absolute control over the faculties. Kao’s friends’
obsession with the professors’ fame or the reputation of the university is the equivalent of
the university ranking mania in a “pre-ranking” era. This obsession is a sure sign of the
encroachment of the power structure of society upon academia. In Barbarism, Michel
Henry examines the concept of the university in its historical origin: around the thir-
teenth or fourteenth century, a university was instituted based on “specific laws that were
different from those that held for the rest of society” (Barbarism 116). Universities at that
time were deliberately “constituted on a principle of marginality” (116). This very
marginality enables the university to accomplish the unique missions assigned to it.
The laws unique to the university differ from the ordinary laws of society in that they “do
not have any other motivation than the immediate self-motivation of life, that is, the
pressure that life constantly exerts over itself in order to deploy its force” (118). Henry’s
educational philosophy is derived from his unique conception of culture. Culture, Henry
believes, can be nothing other than “a culture of life.” Henry understands life not in the
biological sense of the word. Instead, he defines life as the capacity to feel oneself alive. To
Henry, the essence of life “consists in the very fact of sensing or experiencing oneself and
nothing else” (Barbarism 6; original emphasis). Life is pure immanence. It is character-
ized by “spontanéité qui dévalorise d’un coup le mécanisme, la logique, la pâle abstrac-
tion et la raison elle-même” (Henry, “la vie” 39; “a spontaneity that devalues mechanism,
logic, pale abstraction, and reason itself”). It denies everything not intrinsic and exter-
nally imposed. Henry’s notion of life reminds us of Bergson’s interesting metaphor of
a pond covered with withered leaves (Bergson, Time 135–36; Laughter 64). Bergson
compares ready-made ideas to dead leaves afloat on the surface of a pond. These ready-
made ideas may include customs, stereotypes, ideologies, traditions or practices uncon-
sciously inherited and taken for granted, etc. These ready-made ideas are barbaric.
Antithetical to culture, which is “life’s auto-transformation of itself in the service of
higher life, or growth” (Jarvis 367), barbarism is the suppression of life. It seeks to stunt
life’s growth. It is “the ultimate form of despair in which the desire to escape oneself as
living subjectivity takes the form of a negation of life pure and simple” (Seyler). While
culture allows one to experience life more strongly, Barbarism weakens one’s experience
of life. The ready-made ideas mentioned above are barbaric precisely because they make
one feel life less strongly. Henry excoriates the blind deification of pedagogy and the
encroachment of the social power structure on higher education institutions in that these
academic practices are dead leaves that bury the vibrant life beneath. They encrust on life
and prevent one from experiencing life directly without any intermediary. They are
therefore manifestations of academic barbarism. To Henry, education should be the
means through which life forces all its powers to grow, make progress and eventually
reach its full potential. The different types of progress “in all domains [. . .] made by the
pupil and the student are the reflection of this process of the self-development of life”
(Barbarism 118). While the growth of life is the sole aim of education, it is not the
ultimate end in society. Education is often corrupted by society and no longer serves the
self-development of life as its ultimate aim: education “ceases to be taken in an auton-
omous and continual progress toward perfection and conforms instead to established
models” (119). The dangerous mania for fame or reputation deviates from the founding
principle of the university and threatens to erase the borderline between the university
and society. The university is gradually becoming no more than “a sum of knowledge,
4D. CAO
processes and procedures that have set aside life so that they can be established and used”
(Henry, Barbarism 120). In Kao’s conception of the professor-university relation, the
faculty members should be relegated to a position of subjugation. As they “look to the
school for favors and depend on the school for their status,” they fail to maintain their
independence as pursuers of truth. A teaching staff, subject to the manipulation of the
university administration as we see in Kao’s outlook for the college, can hardly maintain
the neutral and disinterested status as an intellectual. They inevitably get eroded by the
power structure prevalent in society. In The Conict of the Faculties, Immanuel Kant
draws our attention to the divisions within the disciplinary structure of the university of
his time. The architectonics of knowledge in Kant’s time usually consisted of four major
disciplinary sections: law, theology, medicine, and philosophy, the first three of which are
often referred to as the “higher faculties.” The three “higher faculties,” according to Kant,
“were essentially reflective of the state’s and society’s interest” (Vampola 189). The
faculty of philosophy,
1
though often viewed as a “lower faculty,” is absolutely indispen-
sable to a healthy society:
The rank of the higher faculties (as the right side of the parliament of learning) supports the
government’s statutes; but in as free a system of government as must exist when it is
a question of truth, there must also be an opposition party (the left side), and this is the
philosophy faculty’s bench. For without its rigorous examinations and objections, the
government would not be adequately informed about what could be to its own advantage
or detriment. (Kant 261)
Academia shoulders two responsibilities to a society: on the one hand, it serves and
solidifies a society by making concrete contributions; on the other, it critiques a society so
that society can move forward in the right direction. The critique of a society, provided by
the philosophical faculty “represented the kind of critical intelligence that was needed to
keep state authority ‘in check’” (Vampola 189). Equally noteworthy is Kant’s emphasis on
the freedom of academic institutions. He contends that any academic institution that
respects truth should be free in that the critique of society is only possible when the
autonomy of the university and its members is first ensured.
The overemphasis on certificates and diplomas is another manifestation of the
encroachment of societal laws and practices. It is closely associated with Galilean scient-
ism, which gives precedence to objective and publicly recognizable credentials rather
than one’s intrinsic qualities. In Fortress Besieged, a Ph.D. degree is almost the sole proof
of one’s academic accomplishments. Fang, the protagonist, spends his days in Europe in
a most leisurely manner, “隨便聽幾門功課, 興趣頗廣” (“taking a few courses here and
there, and [. . .] his interests were fairly broad,” Kelly 13). Fang’s desultoriness is remi-
niscent of the intellectually inquisitive gentlemen who are content with C grades as
described by William Zinsser (153). Woefully, Fang is not allowed to enjoy the privilege
of a gentleman’s C. Right before his journey home, his father earnestly inquires if he has
obtained his doctorate. His future father-in-law, in a seemingly understanding tone, also
urges Fang to get one:
賢婿才高學富, 名滿五洲, 本不須以博士為誇耀° 然令尊大人乃前清孝廉公, 賢婿似宜
舉洋進士, 庶幾克紹箕裘, 後來居上, 愚亦與有榮焉° (Qian, Weicheng 10; “A worthy son-
in-law like you with talent and learning and a reputation extending far and wide does not
need to flaunt a Ph.D. But your father passed the Manchu second-degree examination and
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE: EAST & WEST 5
therefore it seems only fitting that you become the foreign equivalent of the third-degree
holder, following your father’s footsteps and even surpassing him. Then I too would share in
your glory” (Kelly 13)
Pressured on both sides, Fang finally realizes the importance of a diploma. He
eventually purchases a bogus degree from a non-existent university. To appease his
conscience, Fang at least decides not to include this degree in his resume for job
applications. President Kao decides to offer Fang only an associate professorship rather
than a professorship as promised precisely because Fang did not list his doctorate on
his resume. The academia in Fortress Besieged is not the least concerned to promote the
growth of life. It is surely much easier to borrow the evaluating system from society
and ask for concrete and tangible credentials. Those who fare well at San Lü College
know how to “play the system.” Han Hsüeh-yü, dean of the History Department, for
instance, who happens to buy a fake Ph.D. degree from the same non-existent
university like Fang, taking pride in his prestigious alma mater, which, according to
Han, “普通學生不容易進” (Weicheng 220; “ordinary students have a hard time getting
in,” Kelly 226).
Henry notes that “the critical and creative impulse of the university” is gradually being
taken away, which reduces it “to a mere reflection of the rest of society” (Davidson ix).
The principle of marginality characteristic of the university is apparently at stake if we
consider that San Lü College is nothing short of a proving ground for office politics. Liu
Tung-fang, dean of the English Department, and Han Hsüeh-yü are not on friendly
terms with each other. When there is a job vacancy in the English Department, Han
Hsüeh-yü would like to secure it for his wife, whom he claims to be a native English
speaker. Liu, going all out to sabotage Han’s plan, first acts as substitute teacher himself
and then invites Fang to fill the position. To drive Fang away, Han plays a despicable trick
to stir up an animosity between Fang and Liu. Han sends students from his department
to spread the rumor that Fang often ridicules Liu for the mistakes in his teaching. No
sooner had Fang freed himself from Han’s trap than he was slandered by another
colleague, which in turn leads to his being expelled from the college. Theodor Huters
notes that Fang’s fate is always at the mercy of several external forces (144). At San Lü
College, Fang is initially manipulated as a pawn and eventually ends up as a victim of the
factional strife. Instead of adhering to the principle of marginality, San Lü College
faithfully reproduces the power structures we normally expect to see in operation in
society. The borderline between the university and society collapsing completely, San Lü
degenerates into a den of deception and intrigue.
Academics at San Lü are also enthusiastic about forming small cliques in whatever way
imaginable. Over the dinner table, Wang Ch’u-hou, dean of the Chinese department,
explains the diverse coteries at San Lü:
學校裡已經什麼‘粵派’, ‘少壯派’, ‘留日派’鬧得烏煙瘴氣了° 趙先生, 方先生, 你們兩位在
我這兒吃飯, 不怕人家說你們是‘汪派’麼？ . . . . 你們是高校長嫡系里的‘從龍派’ – – 高
先生的親戚或者門生故交° (Qian, Weicheng 261; “The school is already rife with the
“Canton Clique,” the “Stalwarts Clique,” and the “Returned Students from Japan Clique.”
Mr. Chao and Mr. Fang, aren’t you two afraid people will say you’re in the “Wang Clique” if
you eat dinner at my place? [. . .] You two are in the “Dragon Follower Clique” of President
Kao – comprised of Mr. Kao’s relatives or students and old friends,” Kelly, 267–68)
6D. CAO
Cliques tend to serve the interest of their members at the expense of others. People in
society often band together for shared aims or purposes. However, this seemingly benign
behavioral code, when initiated into the university, can be detrimental to academic
advancement. Factional interests often override or even supersede other concerns,
especially academic ones in university administration at San Lü. Moreover, cliques
often try to enlarge themselves by recruiting more members. One of the ways for cliques
to self-aggrandize is through marriage. It is only natural that Liu Tung-fang feels
embittered when Fang declines to marry Liu’s sister. At the critical moment when
Fang is to be discharged from his teaching position, Liu not only refuses to put in
a good word for him but also plans to “舉行個英文作文成績展覽會, 借機把鴻漸改
筆的疏漏公諸于眾” (Weicheng 291; “hold an exhibit of the students’ achievements in
English composition after the spring vacation, intending to make public [Fang’s] errors
in correcting the papers,” Kelly 298). By this time, Han finally manages to wrangle the
teaching position in the English Department for his wife. Surprisingly, Liu Tung-fang
makes up with Han Hsüeh-yü and agrees to offer Mrs. Han the position not because of
her academic qualifications but because of the shirt and shoes she gives to his daughter:
“假如韓太太給他大女兒的襯衫和皮鞋不是學期將完才送來, 他和韓家早可以講和,
不必等到下學期再把鴻漸的功課作為還禮了” (Weicheng 291; “If the shirt and shoes
Mrs. Han gave his eldest daughter had not been delivered just before the end of the
semester, he [would not have] to wait till next semester to give [Fang’s] classes to her in
return,” Kelly 298).
Perhaps the most worrying of all is the fact that the last straw that leads to Fang’s
expulsion from San Lü is a book – Harold Laski’s Communism – Fang’s colleague
accidentally sees in his dorm. Upon learning this, President Kao becomes determined
to dismiss Fang, claiming that “他思想有問題” (Weicheng 291; “his thought was open to
question,” Kelly 298). We recall that Kant defines the dual role of academia to the
government as “to serve” and “to critique.” To accomplish the latter, academics should
enjoy a high degree of freedom in terms of the subject and approach of their research. At
San Lü, however, academics not only fail to place the government under close super-
vision but are instead censored by the university administration, which is the spokes-
person of the government, as we gather from the novel. In fact, at San Lü, we witness not
only the power structure (the hierarchy of high and low; the slavish deference to the
authority, for instance) copied indiscriminately from society but the direct infiltration of
external (social) forces. The appointment of Wang Ch’u-hou as the dean of the Chinese
Department probably represents the invasion of societal power in its most straightfor-
ward form. Before Wang Ch’u-hou is recommended by his nephew, Vice-minister of the
Ministry of Education, to be dean, President Kao has his old friend Li Mei-t’ing in mind
for the position. Yet considering the high rank of Wang’s nephew in the government, Kao
eventually chooses Wang. It is equally disturbing to see that students as well as academics
at San Lü have perfectly internalized the power structure of society. They ingratiate
themselves with Wang, the dean, in a cloying manner. When Wang introduces himself to
Li Mei-t’ing during a welcoming party, he accidentally mentions his nephew. Two
members of the Chinese Department cannot wait to add that Wang’s nephew is none
other than the vice-minister. By the same logic, students look down upon Fang and never
take his lectures seriously because he is “‘只是個副教授’ . . . . 在他們心目中, 鴻漸的地
位比教黨義的和教軍事訓練的高不了多少° 不過教黨義的和教軍事訓練的是政府
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE: EAST & WEST 7
機關派的, 鴻漸的來頭沒有這些人大” (Weicheng 224; “‘nothing but an associate pro-
fessor’ [. . .] In their eyes, [Fang’s] position was not much higher than that of instructors
of party ideology or military drill. But those teaching party ideology and military drill had
been sent by a government agency. [Fang] didn’t have as much status as they did,” Kelly
229–30).
Another key educational issue Michel Henry discusses is the blind faith in and
excessive dependence on pedagogy in academia, which also receives extensive treatment
in Fortress Besieged. In Barbarism, Henry investigates two questions of fundamental
importance: “What knowledge is to be transmitted? And how is it to be transmitted?”
(Barbarism 122). He begins with the latter question because the transmission of knowl-
edge obeys a “single law that concerns them all,” which is what we call pedagogy (122).
Yet a pitfall associated with the use of pedagogy is the belief that “teaching [can be]
independent from the content taught. Some notions of pedagogy are even able to change
the ignorant into outstanding teachers” (123). The transmission of knowledge is accom-
plished, according to Henry, when “each evidence that constitutes knowledge [. . .] is
repeated and reactualized by someone who makes it into his or her own evidence. [. . .]
Such a repetition is twofold: On the one hand, it is the repetition of the evidence that was
just in question – a repetition of the act that produces it. On the other hand, it is the
repetition of the pathos in which the act of evidence stands” (124). Henry believes that
anyone who would like to approach truth must become “the contemporary of it” (125).
By “contemporaneity,” Henry means the close association – corporeal, sensible, cogni-
tive, theoretical or affective – one must form with knowledge to truly acquire it. The
transmission or acquisition of knowledge is “not reducible to a formal theory or to
a system of formal laws whose cognitive content could be separated” (125). The com-
munication of knowledge is “identical to its concrete phenomenological actualization in
repetition” (125). Therefore, it is absurd to think that knowledge can be transmitted from
teachers to students merely with the aid of a few formal laws: “An ignorant pedagogy is
a square circle” (125).
In Fortress Besieged, President Kao and Li Mei-t’ing, director of student affairs, are
actively engaged in introducing and promoting the tutorial system from Oxbridge. An
inspector from the Ministry of Education is sent to San Lü to offer detailed guidance. The
inspector, “an expert on the tutorial system [. . .] was sent to England by the Ministry of
Education to study it” (236). Fang believes that it is ridiculous to have an expert on the
tutorial system:
導師制有什麼專家！牛津或劍橋的任何學生, 不知道得更清楚么？這些辦教育的人專
會掛幌子唬人° 照這樣下去, 還要有研究留學, 研究做校長的專家呢° (Qian, Weicheng
230; “How can there be an expert on the tutorial system? Wouldn’t any student at Oxford
or Cambridge know a lot more about it? All those people in charge of education can ever do
is try to impress everyone with fancy names. By the same token, there should be experts on
studying abroad and experts on being a university president,” Kelly 236)
The inspector himself, however, is immensely proud of his advanced training in peda-
gogy. During a meeting, the inspector delivers a keynote speech in which “平均每分鐘一
句半 ‘兄弟在英國的時候’” (Weicheng 235; “the phrase ‘When I was in England’ came up
on the average of one and a half times per minute,” Kelly 240). He is doubtlessly one of
those who believe that pedagogy – nothing less than the elixir for all educational
8D. CAO
problems – can succeed even without teachers conversant with the contents taught. The
initiators of the tutorial system at San Lü also constantly make a fool of themselves during
the implementation of the new pedagogical technique. For instance, upon learning that
teachers in Oxbridge give a blessing in Latin before and after each meal, Kao and Li
decide to follow suit. Even though in China there is no religious tradition that calls for
such a ritual, the two administrators still would not dispense with it. They rack their brain
to come up with something to say before and after each meal. The chairman of the
Economics Department jocosely suggests: “乾脆大家像我兒子一樣, 念: ‘吃飯前, 不要
跑; 吃飯後, 不要跳 – – ’” (Weicheng 236; “Just say what my son says: ‘Before eating, don’t
run about. After eating, don’t jump and shout,’” which makes everyone present roar with
laughter,” Kelly 242). The playful tone is suggestive of Qian’s attitude toward those inane
formalities. Besides, many rules are set down for the communal dining – between
teachers and students – which is an integral part of the tutorial system. The most
ridiculous of these is that teachers and students are not allowed to talk while eating.
There is then no point in dining together whose aim is precisely to exchange ideas and
enhance mutual understanding. The weekly talk between tutors and tutees – also
required by the imported tutorial system – degenerates into an occasion for feasting
and drinking. Moreover, the tutorial system as promulgated by the Ministry of Education
dictates that if the student commits any crime after graduation, the tutor will also be held
responsible. The tutorial system, as Henry conceives it, is not a “co-repetition by the
teacher and the student of the transmitted knowledge” (Barbarism 125). In the world of
Fortress Besieged, the tutorial system is abused by the Ministry of Education and the
university administration as a ruse to shirk responsibility and shift the blame onto others.
Chao Hsin-mei’s somewhat harsh judgment about the tutorial system at San Lü turns out
to be very true: “中國真厲害, 天下無敵手, 外國東西來一件, 毀一件” (Weicheng 233;
For some reason all the good things from abroad always go out of whack when they come
to China,” Kelly 238).
Like Qian, Nabokov is also concerned with the corruption of academia by norms and
practices of other spheres of society. In Pnin, Blorenge, head of the French Department at
Waindell, “disliked literature and had no French” (104). The only course he offers is
entitled “Great Frenchmen,” which is based on notes copied out from a set of old
magazines that he happened to discover in an attic and which are not on the shelves of
the College Library. Yet this does not prevent him from being a “successful” chairman
because he has an incomparable knack for fund-raising. A highly esteemed money-getter,
he manages to induce a rich old man to promote with sumptuous endowment a so-called
“French Village” project. The fact that a scholar’s status in academia is utterly determined
by the financial benefits s/he can bring about is a flagrant violation of the disinterested-
ness that should have characterized academia. The university fails to maintain its margin-
ality. In Pnin, Nabokov also vividly depicts how other academics concoct frivolous
research projects only to swindle funds from the College. As the narrator remarks, “a
crop of lucky faculty members were enjoying or about to enjoy various awards received
earlier in the year” (102). For instance, a generous grant was offered to Dr. Aura,
a psychiatrist, “to apply to ten thousand elementary school pupils the so-called
Fingerbowl Test, in which the child is asked to dip his index finger in cups of colored
fluids whereupon the proportion between length of digit and wetted part is measured and
plotted in all kinds of fascinating graphs” (103). Dr. Aura’s research project is despicable
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE: EAST & WEST 9
not only because it seeks to obtain funding in a dishonest manner but because it slavishly
imitates the overrated scientific objectivity. Michel Henry notes that a certain type of
knowledge – Galilean scientism – which advocates objectivity and rigor – had been
considered the only type of knowledge since the eighteenth century, resulting in the
“subversion of all other values and thus of culture and the humanity of the human being”
(3). While culture suggests “an experience of oneself without distance,” a pure imma-
nence, science advocates exteriority and objectivity (Henry 15). Dr. Aura falls prey to
scientism when he strives to make his research look “sciencey” through the inane
experiments and graphs. In a world where scientific methods hold sway, only objective,
tangible, and quantifiable knowledge can be of any worth. The situation is leading to not
only the crisis of culture but its very destruction.
Pnin, by contrast, has pushed his disinterested research to the “charmed stage when
the quest overrides the goal” (106). A meticulous scholar, Pnin undertakes to amass
a multitude of details as he carries out a long-standing project: a commentary on his
native Russia’s folklore and literature. Pnin’s research is free from any concerns other
than the advancement of knowledge itself. Pnin greatly enjoys his research: a shoebox is
gradually filled out with index cards. Correction of mistakes by former scholars; the
“spine thrill of a felicitous guess; and all the innumerable triumphs of bezkorïstnïy
(disinterested, devoted) scholarship” (106) have corrupted Pnin.
“[T]he quest [that] overrides the goal”: these few words speak volumes for Nabokov’s
conception of authentic academic pursuits. Samuel Schuman points out that “Nabokov
seems to have a genuine admiration for the sort of arcane research undertaken in the
fertile isolation of college libraries by his protagonists” (181). Unshackled by extrinsic
concerns such as money or fame, Pnin immerses himself in his disinterested research
project. In Lectures on Literature, Nabokov repeatedly suggests, “a wise reader reads the
book of genius [. . .] with his spine” (6). Pnin’s “spine thrill” indicates that he is ecstatic in
his intellectual endeavor. He never feels more alive. As Michel Henry contends, “There is
a malaise in civilization every time that the energy of Life remains unemployed”
(Barbarism 103). An activity that upholds the culture of life inevitably arouses “a growth
of sensibility and intelligence” (Barbarism 111). In the activity, the mind subjects the
cultural object to contemplation. Pnin embodies the culture of life in that he exercises his
mind to fulfill its full potential. His academic undertaking is a powerful expression of his
fundamental vital force.
In Pnin, the techno-scientific methodology or mentality invades the university in
several other ways. Readers are informed that at Waindell college “sterile instructors
successfully endeavored to ‘produce’ by reviewing the books of more fertile colleagues”
(102). This urge to produce may have arisen from the pressure in academia to make
objectifiable and quantifiable proof of scholarly inquiry. It is the equivalent of the
modern day “publish or perish” pressure. A more notable and noteworthy case is the
Freudian group psychotherapy devised by two academics – Dr. Eric Wind and Dr. Liza
Wind – to deal with marriage problems. In this “tension-releasing” method, young
married women in groups of eight share traumatic episodes from childhood with each
other, with doctors and even the note-taking secretary present. They are also required to
discuss among themselves with utter frankness “their problems of marital maladjust-
ment, which entailed, of course, comparing notes on their mates, who later were inter-
viewed, too, in a special ‘husband group’” (35). In a word, the most personal and private
10 D. CAO
experiences have to be made public and put through the test of a group so as to be
objectively established, to become objectified knowledge. The Winds’ heavy emphasis on
the group fills Pnin, and most likely Nabokov, with nausea. Psychotherapy is repulsive to
Pnin mainly because it violates the individuality of human souls. Moreover, “the complex
mechanism of the soul and mind is over-simplified through Freudian doctrine to suit the
general and reject the unique” (Pellérdi 66). Pnin is distressed to see outsiders intrude on
one’s personal sorrow. He sees the intrusion as an act of objectification that profanes the
personal sorrow: “Is sorrow not, one asks, the only thing in the world people really
possess?” (Nabokov, Pnin 36). Michel Henry explains the internal contradiction of
Freudianism between its subjectivist premise and objectivist agenda: “On the one hand,
it is characterized by the decisive affirmation that the basis of the psyche escapes from
objectivity and is irreducible to it. [. . .] On the other hand, it maintains a scientific
presupposition that nothing should exist unless it is objective or objectively determin-
able” (Barbarism 93). Freudianism, as Henry aptly describes, is a “bastard psychology –
half-subjective and half-objective”: as “an empirical psychology [. . .] [its] attempt to
make empirical concepts (relation to the Father, anal sexuality, etc.) play
a transcendental role can only result in the most extreme confusion” (132). The self-
contradictoriness of Freudianism is yet another sign of the negative impact the scientific
world makes upon the “human sciences” (129).
In Pnin, we also witness the apotheosis of pedagogy as we see in Fortress Besieged.
Pnin, as an instructor of Russian language courses, is a stranger to the prevalent
pedagogical methods in academia:
Pnin [. . .] [never] presume[s] to approach the lofty halls of modern scientific linguistics, [. . .]
that temple wherein earnest young people are taught not the language itself, but the method
of teaching others to teach that method; which method, like a waterfall splashing from rock
to rock, ceases to be a medium of rational navigation but perhaps in some fabulous future
may become instrumental in evolving esoteric dialects – Basic Basque and so forth – spoken
only by certain elaborate machines. (5)
In Pnin, as in Fortress Besieged, the transmission of knowledge no longer means inner
growth through a concrete co-exploration that involves both the teacher and the stu-
dents. Education, which, according to Henry, aims to spread the culture of life, should be
a process of radical immanence because life in its original essence excludes exteriority
and “the ek-stasis of objectivity from itself” (Barbarism 12). Pedagogy, when understood
and employed in the wrong way, easily falls prey to “the emptiness of exteriority [which]
replaces the plenitude in which life is essentialized” (Barbarism 85). In Pnin, the popular
pedagogical technique has degenerated into an empty form that is helpful perhaps only to
“certain elaborate machines.” By contrast, Pnin often transforms the tedious Russian
language course into “literary and historical tours” (48). For instance, he would take care
to point out that a line in the absurd Russian grammar textbook is actually the opening of
a famous poem. Pnin’s decision not to restrict his elementary Russian class to grammar
exercises may serve as a powerful antidote to the blind faith in pedagogy. According to
Michel Henry, culture adopts different forms: while its elementary forms are concerned
with “the concrete modalities for the fulfillment of immediate living,” it also has “devel-
oped forms”: art, ethics, and religion (19). Many disturbing trends in education threaten
to eliminate these higher forms of culture. For instance, the study of languages has been
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE: EAST & WEST 11
“reduced to their immediate use” (Henry, Barbarism 129). In literary studies, “the text or
rather language taken in its residual objectivity replaces the imaginary creation where the
aesthetic meanings that constitute the work and the literary as such are produced” (129).
Great literary, philosophical or historical works, which are loaded with culture, are put
aside: “The educational value of platitudes and stereotypes written in haste by journalists
who need a story prevail over Shakespeare, Dante, Pascal, Goethe, Dostoevsky, or
Mandelstam” (129).
Like many other academic novels, Pnin and Fortress Besieged are set in institutions
of higher learning largely secluded from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. In
these worlds in miniature, the most hidden aspects of human nature can be minutely
observed. Though it is not altogether unjustifiable to call the academic novel a “coterie
genre” (Williams 563), both Qian and Nabokov took care to avoid the pitfall by
infusing the genre with broader concerns – either social, or political or historical. In
other words, both novels aim to present educational issues against a much wider
background. Moreover, both succeed in stepping out of the genre’s confines by cross-
pollinating with other literary modes. In Pnin, for instance, we witness the intriguing
interactions between Pnin the man – his love life and his exile, etc. – and Pnin the
university professor. In Fortress Besieged, it is not only the more private aspects of
characters’ lives presented. The characters are also placed in the unique context of the
Japanese invasion, thus qualifying the work as a wartime novel. The two novels thus
not only warn us about the emergent academic barbarism in higher education, but
manage to embed their discussion of educational issues in an enormously rich texture,
which offers us esthetic bliss as well.
Note
1. According to David Vampola, the faculty of philosophy “contained what was to become the
‘arts and sciences’ faculty of the modern university system” (189).
Disclosure statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.
Notes on contributor
Derong Cao holds a PhD in English (Literary Studies) from The Chinese University of Hong Kong.
He is currently a lecturer at the School of Humanities and Social Science, CUHK (Shenzhen). His
major areas of focus include Euro-American Modernism and Postmodernism, East-West
Comparative Literature, Vladimir Nabokov and Paul Auster. He has published in CLCWeb:
Comparative Literature and Culture and other journals.
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