It's the Economy, Stupid

         Ah, the love triangle, that most wonderful and reverend plot device of social comedies. Shakespeare knew it, Jacob and Rachel experienced it, and Howells includes it The Rise of Silas Lapham, but he uses this familiar trope to demonstrate a philosophical position that would not be out of place in an ethics 101 textbook: “the economy of pain”. It appears in Chapter 18 (XVIII) when the minister Sewell is advising Mr. and Mrs. Lapham on how to handle the fact that Irene loves Tom but Tom loves Penelope causing Penelope to feel guilt for Irene. He ultimately concludes: “One suffer instead of three, if none is to blame? That’s sense, and that’s justice. It’s the economy of pain which naturally suggests itself, and which would insist upon itself, if we were not all perverted by traditions which are the figment of the shallowest sentimentality.”

         So what’s going on here? First, notice that these words are spoken by a preacher, who until this point was not even mentioned nor did he play any significant role in the narrative when suddenly he is brought in as the voice of reason. Like I said in my last post, Howells is no stranger to literary tradition, and he once again follows suit by introducing not only a wise man to offer his counsel but a preacher, which at least goes back to Shakespearian times if not further. Even if the writer isn’t Christian nor attempting to proselytize (more on that later) preachers are widely regarded as men of wisdom and study who, even if the protagonist doesn’t directly follow his advice nor totally change his life, will at least gain a fresh, even calming perspective from the preacher that will hopefully help him resolve his struggle.

         Yet this is a strange sermon that the preacher brings, isn’t it? I hesitate to call it utilitarian or altruistic, but it certainly can be defined by what it rails against, that being sentimentality and idealism. As much as I love Ted Dekker his view of Christianity can be very sentimental, almost completely reliant on the supernatural intervention of God with no realistic human action in certain cases (I’m really only referring to When Heaven Weeps) and Sewell would call this nonsense. Well, that may be conjecture, but then I wonder whether or not Howells himself actually believes in the economy of pain, thus using Sewell as a mouthpiece for a moral lesson, or perhaps, like Dostoevsky, he is simply giving the reader another voice and viewpoint to consider that, although not entirely of his opinion, is crucial to the understanding of the story. The logic of the economy is purely rational, that is, purely mathematical, and assumes that one formula or strategy can apply to all foreseeable situations. It is not designed to defeat human suffering entirely as one might assume but reduce it as much as possible by combating the fallacies of emotional dramatism. At the same time Sewell does not completely ignore the heart, for he reminds them that, though the rest of the world would consider Penelope’s self sacrifice noble and pure, “you know at the bottom of your hearts that it would be foolish and cruel and revolting”.

         Can this logic truly as iron clad as it seems? Can one only trust his most rational judgment and should we expect this of the church as Sewell demands? After all, though we open our hearts and try to take in all of the suffering and pain that we can take in for our brothers and sisters Christian love, there’s only so much good that we can do in difficult situations, so maybe what we need to regulate the production of good… is an economy. Boy, the modernism in that last sentence is stifling; I should open a window…