November 5, 2019

From Gerald R. Lucas
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Courage through Opposition: The Political Resonance of Norman Mailer

First articulated in his 1957 novel The Deer Park, Mailer’s approach to life echoes throughout his oeuvre: “there was that law of life so cruel and so just which demanded that one must grow or else pay more for remaining the same.”[1][a] One might even go so far as to call this “Mailer’s Law,” as it seems to provide a synecdouche for his career as an artist and public figure. As an exemplar of this early and oft-articulated credo, Mailer never stood still for long. Not one to rest on his laurels or to be dissuaded by critical disapproval, Mailer made strides to, as he states in Advertisements for Myself, “settle for nothing less than making a revolution in the consciousness of our time.”[2] While Mailer could be accused of hubris, his approach to culture and life exhibited a courage to grow in opposition to what he saw as the deadening forces of totalitarianism in America. Mailer viewed political challenge as the moral responsibility of the creative artist — especially the novelist — in maintaining freedom from tyranny. Mailer’s opposition resonates even beyond his death in 2007.

Even more than a decade after Mailer died, his presence may still be felt almost daily. Perhaps it’s because today’s political climate seems to echo that of the sixties, when Mailer was at his most popular and influential. His influence during a decade of upheaval, opposition, and revaluation of America, Mailer stood at the forefront. If Mailer wrote about something, that usually meant he was participating in it, thinking about it, and offering Americans an alternate perspective about everything or import. From New York City to Washington D.C., from Alaska to Vietnam, from Houston to the moon, Mailer was there, prompting Wilfred Sheed to quip in 1971: “As Mailer goes, so goes the nation.”[3] Mailer’s presence, while dominant, was never one that gave easy or compulsory answers to big questions, yet he always brought an oppositional view, or William Prichard recently observed, Mailer met “head-on every sort of public, social, and political phenomenon in order to ‘war’ on them.”[4] Mailer’s estimation of his own political penchants were also elusive if not oppositional. In 1955, Mailer writes “Please do not understand me too quickly,”[5] providing a foundation for his ludic left-conservatism — a stance that Christopher Hitchens suggests identifies Mailer with “a dark underside” and stands “semi-belligerently as a challenge to those who remain fixed in orthodoxy or correctness.”[6]

Near the end of Why Are We at War?, Dotson Rader asks Mailer what he most loves about America. Mailer answers that its the freedom he has enjoyed throughout his life that made his work possible, but freedom, like democracy, is delicate, and must be fought for daily.[7] Mailer links freedom in America to its democracy and the responsibility of citizens to undertake the necessary responsibility of maintaining it. Built of the assumption that all humans have value and that people are more good than evil, “Democracy is a state of grace,” Mailer writes, “attained only by those countries that have a host of individuals not only ready to enjoy freedom but to undergo the heavy labor of maintaining it.”[8] In other words, for Mailer, democracy is existential, always presenting new challenges, always changing, and “like each human being . . . always growing into more or less.”[9] Democracy begins with the freedom of its citizens, but a progressive, healthy democracy depends on the ability of its citizens to meet the various forces and challenges that attempt to undermine it.

Mailer saw as his own personal responsibility the necessity to equip Americans with the tools to oppose the forces that seek to undermine their freedom. In his essay “Immodest Proposals,” Mailer maintains that opposition begins with the peoples’ “power to learn to think.”[10] His words are chosen precisely: thinking here is not a static state, but one that must have agency and be able to encounter every new situation in a creative way. Culture, then, becomes a political force that is necessary for creating a populace that can see critical distinctions and not rely on habit or easy answers to important questions: “Consciousness is enlarged gently and delicately, yet powerfully, and it takes great literature, like great music, painting, and dance, to make that happen.”[11] For Mailer, then, culture is worth “huge, huge risks.”[12]

In particular, the novelist must present



  1. Come back later to the irony of it being thought by Charles Eitel, a failed Mailer hero.


  1. Mailer 1957, p. 294.
  2. Mailer 1992, p. 17.
  3. Sheed 1971, p. 17.
  4. Pritchard 2016.
  5. Mailer 1992, p. 262.
  6. Hitchens 1997, p. 116.
  7. Mailer 2003, pp. 110–11.
  8. Mailer 2003, p. 71.
  9. Mailer & Mailer 2006, p. 78.
  10. Mailer 2004, p. 569.
  11. Busa 1999, p. 31.
  12. Hitchens 1997, p. 126.


  • Busa, Christopher (1999). "Interview with Norman Mailer". Provincetown Arts. pp. 24–32. Retrieved 2019-09-15.
  • Hitchens, Christopher (1997). "Norman Mailer: A Minority of One". New Left Review. 22 (March/April): 115–128.
  • Mailer, Norman (1992) [1959]. Advertisements for Myself. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP.
  • — (1957). The Deer Park. New York: New American Library. p. 294.
  • — (2003). Why Are We at War?. New York: Random House.
  • —; Mailer, John Buffalo (2006). The Big Empty. New York: Nation Books.
  • Pritchard, William (November 24, 2016). "Stormin' Norman". Washington Examiner. Retrieved 2019-10-01.
  • Sheed, Wilfred (1971). "Norman Mailer: Genius or Nothing". The Morning After: Selected Essays and Reviews. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux. p. 9–17.