‘On the Sublime’ in Literature

"The Apotheosis of Homer," 1827, by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres. Oil on canvas. Louvre Museum, Paris. Public Domain

“Beauty is subjective” has become a popular claim. It usually refers to visual arts; its aesthetic merit is thought to depend on arbitrary tastes. However, aesthetic relativism also concerns literature. Cultural and personal differences are often touted as the sole standards to judge a text’s literary merit. As the influential philosopher A. J. Ayer put it in “Language, Truth, and Logic,” “such aesthetic words as ‘beautiful’ and ‘hideous’ are employed not to make statements of fact, but simply to express certain feelings.” In this reading, ephemeral satisfaction is the only standard of literary greatness.

Cultural and personal variations do influence aesthetic standards, but overemphasizing their extent has convinced many that “beauty” doesn’t exist at all, and that everything we experience is a form of subjective pleasure. Is beauty mere subjective gratification, akin to entertainment? Or is it something qualitatively different and more profound? If a text is more beautiful than another, what makes it so?

‘On the Sublime’

A detail of Longinus writing on a tablet in the lower, right corner from "The Apotheosis of Homer," 1827, by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres. cropped image by Sailko/CC BY 3.0

The author of “On the Sublime” asked himself the same questions in the 1st century. Although its real author is still unknown, this Roman-era Greek treatise is usually attributed to Longinus. It remains one of the most enduring works in the history of literary criticism, drawing on Homer, Plato, and other classical authors to attempt to define the “sublime.” Whether or not Longinus is the name behind the pen, the book tells us plenty about its author’s motives, which included reviving a decaying literary culture.

Language’s Downfall

Longinus was fascinated by language. He wrote extensively on rhetoric, which was a powerful tool for political and personal aggrandizement in the late Roman Republic. Like every author interested in oratory, he was influenced by Cicero, whose conception of rhetoric is still admired today.

"Cicero Denounces Catiline," circa 1880, by Cesare Maccari. Fresco. Palazzo Madama, Rome. Public Domain

Unlike Longinus, Cicero lived in a Republic that afforded orators relative freedom. Rhetoricians could challenge authority without facing immediate repercussions. During the Roman Empire, however, things were different. Orators’ careers were severely limited by imperial authorities. The Emperor’s reputation couldn’t be challenged by skillful speakers with the ability to convince large crowds with compelling arguments. Through subtle commentary, Longinus blamed the Empire’s draconian rule for reducing writing and public speaking to futile exercises in style at the expense of beauty and meaningful content. Freedom of expression, he thought, was necessary to create great art.

Censorship wasn’t the only issue on Longinus’s mind. He believed oratory’s decay was an inevitable result of moral corruption: “Are we not enslaved?” Longinus asked his contemporaries; “are not our careers completely shipwrecked, by love of gain, that fever which rages unappeased in us all, and love of pleasure?—one the most debasing, the other the most ignoble of the mind’s diseases.”

The art that forms a society privileges reflect its character. Longinus saw that Rome’s “moral pestilence” polluted its artistic creations, including literature. Instead of “pleasure or applause,” he urged his readers to pursue the “solid advantage which is worthy to be striven for and held in honour”: truth, virtue, and beauty.

Despite his concerns, Longinus remained hopeful about the future of oratory and literature. He thought that studying the ancients could help scholars rediscover great texts and useful templates to create new works worthy of their predecessors. As part of his academic mission, Longinus developed five criteria to help readers distinguish “sublime” texts from deficient ones.

1. Grandeur of Thought

Longinus partially defined the sublime as “a certain loftiness and excellence of language” that “takes the reader out of himself. The Sublime, acting with an imperious and irresistible force, sways every reader whether he will or no.”

First in Longinus’s list of features that make sublime literature is “grandeur of thought.” Put simply, a great work of literature must address profound ideas. The best authors try to convey universal truths. This proclivity often stems from the author’s moral vision and philosophical depth.

We can only experience sublimity if we move beyond the mundane, shifting our mind’s attention to the timeless concepts of love, justice, the divine, and other “noble thoughts,” which a great text offers as gifts.

2. Intense Passion

For Longinus, a great text should stir the soul with potent emotions. Emotive intensity is typical of sublime experiences, which are at both gratifying and petrifying. When writers “pour themselves” into their work, they’re more likely to elicit  similar emotions in their readers.

Yet an “ill-timed and empty display of emotion, where no emotion is called for, or of greater emotion than the situation warrants” can make a text overly sentimental and immature. An author must express emotions judiciously and parsimoniously, avoiding “tedious displays of mere personal feeling which has no connection with the subject.”

3. Figures of Speech

"Demosthenes on the Seashore," 1859, by Eugène Delacroix. Oil on canvas. National Gallery of Ireland, Dublin. The great orator Demosthenes used to strengthen his voice by speaking over the roar of the waves. Public Domain

Figures of speech like metaphors, hyperboles, and apostrophe are essential to produce a great work of literature. They’re not mere decorations. When used effectively, figures of speech magnify emotions. Like expressions of raw feeling, they should be used moderately. Figures of speech need to be employed “in the right place and the right manner, on the right occasion, and with the right motive.”

One of Longinus’s favorite authors was the Greek orator Demosthenes (384–322 B.C.), famous for having written and delivered breathtaking speeches across Greece. Demosthenes was particularly effective with repetition, as in this example: “He who receives a blow is hurt in many ways which he could not even describe to another, by gesture, by look, by tone.”

To prevent his speech from losing force, Demosthenes quickly changed rhythm, adding new repetitions to his first one: “by gesture, by look, by tone—when insult, when hatred, is added to violence, when he is struck with the fist, when he is struck as a slave!” To Longinus, this interplay between repetitive regularity and chaotic unpredictability typified the kind of speech a sublime text must include.

4. Noble Diction

The fourth characteristic is noble diction. Longinus praised dignified language that’s appropriate to the subject matter: “the choice of appropriate and striking words has a marvelous power and an enthralling charm.” A great author like Plato knows knew how to exploit words’ versatility, adopting “imposing language” in grand discourses and mundane phrases for “trifling” subjects.

Longinus is careful to distinguish eloquence from flamboyance. Elegance doesn’t emerge from excessively ornate language. This is a particularly hard lesson for young writers who who equate eloquence with flowery language. Instead, elegance is about the careful selection of words that carry weight, dignity, and poetic resonance at the right time. For Longinus, elegance abounds in virtually every line of Homeric poetry.

5. Cohesive Composition

Last is the composition of a work, displayed in the “arrangement of words in a certain order.” This arrangement should be harmonious, for harmony “is an instrument which has a natural power, not only to win and to delight, but also in a remarkable degree to exalt the soul and sway the heart of man.”

Longinus discussed several strategies to produce a harmonious composition, including selecting appropriate rhyme schemes for poetry, alternating between eloquence and conciseness, and ensuring that every part of a text is logically connected. A chaotic structure diminishes the effect of even the profoundest thoughts, while coherent harmony enhances the sublime.

Longinus’s criteria may seem overly strict. Is it reasonable to claim that a work of literature can only be sublime if it meets all of his particular requirements? It may have been reasonable for ancient Greek and Roman texts, but can Longinus’s prescriptive rubric apply to all literature?

The details may be up for debate. But in a world that seems to have forsaken transcendent beauty in the name of solipsistic hedonism, “On the Sublime” reminds us that great literature relies on formal structures meant to convey imaginative, ordered meaning. As Longinus wrote in his opening paragraph, “The points in which we resemble the divine nature are benevolence and love of truth.” Literature, like all sublime art, exalts the divine within us.

A Roman copy of a bust of Demosthenes, 280 B.C. 17 1/2 inches tall. British Museum, London. Public Domain

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