Letters to a Young Contrarian
by Christopher Hitchens
Basic Books
Christopher Hitchens has issued a challenge. In the preface to his new book of essays, "Letters to a Young Contrarian," he expresses displeasure at the way he envisions critics will begin their reviews of the book. He claims that most reviews of his work begin in roughly the same manner — the critic briefly runs down the list of people he has taken to task — and in so doing attempts to pigeonhole him as a cantankerous muckraker, taking on the rich and powerful simply because they are rich and powerful while ignoring the factual, albeit controversial claims he makes. So, in the spirit of radical journalism, and to throw a wrench in the cookie-cutter approach to contemporary book criticism, Hitchens' previous accounts of Mother Theresa, Princess Diana and Bill Clinton will be mentioned here only to recommended them to readers looking for well-written, engaging and factual reportage. See, Chris? You got at least one critic to bite.
Hitchens' heading off of his critics at the pass like this anticipates two points he makes later in the book on how best to make a contentious point in the face of inevitable criticism. First, he advises, always be witty, and if possible ironic. As he says: "Radicalism is humanism or it is nothing; the proper study of mankind is man and the ability to laugh is one of the faculties that defines the human and distinguishes the species from other animals." The second point is always to try to anticipate your opponents' attack before it can be launched; which, obviously, he has done here with great effect.
The remainder of the book follows the format of Rainer Maria Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet," the difference being that Hitchens is addressing a fictional student who is asking advice on how to prepare for a life dedicated to taking on the Establishment (see also: big business, government and those pundits who, when speaking for themselves, use the term "we") for its inherent hypocrisy and empty promises. Having made a career out of doing just this, Hitchens is well suited for the task, taking up where tireless cultural critics such as Thomas Paine, George Orwell, Gore Vidal, George Konrad and Edward Said have previously laid the groundwork for literate and passionate public dissent.
To live and work at odds with received opinion in the manner of a Hitchens or a Vidal is difficult, however; it's often easier to become a bile-spewing rumormonger a la Bill O'Reilly. To be a successful contrarian is to able to bend the public ear and make your point to the greatest number of people, and to come off as bitter and isolated will only hurt your cause. Rather, you must learn to temper your dissent with healthy doses of humor, reasoned analysis, and self-criticism in order to advance your argument while keeping the audience engaged. "To be in opposition is not to be a nihilist," Hitchens writes in one of the letters. "And there is no decent or charted way of making a living at it. It is something you are, and not something you do."
Never accused of being a relativist, Hitchens sings the praises of reasoned disagreement and rational argument in the political education of any thinking person. What a healthy sentiment it is to hear someone stick up for the ability to disagree at a time when our country, politically and morally, lurches toward some nebulous middle ground in order not to offend an increasingly sensitive, and bored, polity. Since debate with the like-minded usually only serves to reinforce previously held opinion, Hitchens recommends seeking out those who disagree with you on principal, not in order to annoy or convert them to your cause, but instead to increase your own rhetorical prowess and maybe, just maybe, learn a thing or two. "Time spent arguing with the faithful is, oddly enough, almost never wasted," he says. The primary sin any informed citizen can commit is the sin of silence, and even if it may seem frustrating, you will at the very least reap the benefits of being able to articulate both sides of an debate while finding ways to head off objections to, and find the flaws in, your own argument.
The way the book lays out the political in somewhat personal terms may lead it one day to find a place next to some of the more interesting, and often forgotten, personal testimonials of our time. Books such as Henry Miller's "The Time of the Assassins," Orwell's "Down and Out in Paris and London," or even the more recent, if more academic, "Achieving our Country" by philosopher Richard Rorty come to mind as works in which the writer makes a case for their own view of the evolution of our society filtered through the lens of personal experience and deeply held conviction.
In the end, does Hitchens spell out the secret to living a full and satisfied life while placing yourself firmly in the oppositionist camp? Of course not. But he does treat the subject realistically. Constantly finding fault with the way things are is a difficult life that invariably leads to, as he admits, "many dark nights of the soul." But there is an element of hope involved in any form of criticism; a determination to live life "as if" the world could be different, "as if" social justice were attainable and a full public accounting of our leaders activities could be laid out for public consumption. It is a hope grounded in building something better, and not just tearing down what already exists.
— Paul McLeary (pjmcleary@yahoo.com)
