True or False or Philip
Philip Roth experiments with reality.
By Daniel Septimus
Originally published
in the Jerusalem Post (September 29, 2004).
In an open letter to the critic Diana Trilling published in Reading Myself and Others (1975), Philip
Roth enumerates the differences between himself and "Mr. Roth," the
"character" who, in an essay, Trilling identifies as the author of Portnoy's
Complaint. Of course, Philip Roth is the author of Portnoy's
Complaint (1969), but his
message is clear: the written word is a dubious medium of representation. The
"Mr. Roth" of Trilling's review--a two-dimensional, reified sketch--bares
no more of a direct relationship to the living breathing Philip Roth than does
Alexander Portnoy.
Literary Alter-Egos
Roth's letter was penned three and a half decades ago, but
it was not the last time he challenged the distinction between author and character,
between fiction and reality. In 1979's The
Ghost Writer, Roth introduced us to Nathan Zuckerman, who'd serve as his
alter ego in several subsequent novels. Yet while Roth and his creation share crucial
biographical information--they're both Jewish writers, born in Newark, whose
early works inspired criticism from Members of the Tribe--Roth insists
Zuckerman is a device, not a pseudonym.
Roth upped the stakes once again with The Facts (1988), subtitled A
Novelist's Autobiography. Why not just "An Autobiography"?
Because Roth is aware that autobiographies are fundamentally suspect. Like a
novel, an autobiography--and certainly the autobiography of a novelist--is a
creative endeavor. Roth makes this point with a wink, opening The Facts with a letter addressed to
none other than the fictional Nathan Zuckerman.
Nor did Roth stop there. There's Deception (1990), a
dialogue between two lovers, one of whom is named Philip and who has written
about a character named Zuckerman; Patrimony
(1991), subtitled "A True Story"--an inside joke for anyone who has
read The Facts and knows what Roth thinks about narrative truth; and Operation
Shylock (1993), which
features a character named Philip Roth as well as a character masquerading as
Philip Roth.
Aside from testing the relationship between real and
fictional characters, Roth has also challenged the relationship between
alternate fictional realities. In The
Counterlife (1986), Henry
Zuckerman (Nathan's brother) dies during an operation in chapter one and lives
through the operation in chapter two. In chapter four, it is Nathan who goes
through the operation.
The Plot Against America
But with The Plot Against America (2004), Philip Roth has pushed this theme
to a new level. Reference and reality are subverted at every turn. The Plot Against America is a
counterfactual history that asks an eerie question: What if Charles Lindbergh
had beaten Franklin Delano Roosevelt in the 1940 presidential election?
Lindbergh, of course, was an aviation hero, the first man to
fly a non-stop, transatlantic solo flight. But he was also an extreme
isolationist with ties to Nazi Germany. Lindbergh openly admired Hitler, and in
1938, he received a Service Cross of the German Eagle, a medallion featuring
four swastikas, awarded to him by Hermann Göring. In The Plot Against America, President Lindbergh makes a pact with
Hitler not to enter World War II, unleashing a wave of American anti-Semitism.
The Plot Against America is narrated by a young
boy named Philip Roth. Philip lives in Newark with his brother Sandy, his
father Herman, and his mother Bess. In other words, his basic history is
identical to the author of the book. So who is this Philip Roth? Is he indeed
the same as the author? The same as the character in The Facts? Patrimony? Operation Shylock?
By the time you've read a few pages of The Plot Against
America, these questions seem almost quaint. Roth has created another
blurred distinction between authorial reality and fiction, but he also ups the
ante from The Counterlife. While The Counterlife references alternate
fictional realities, The Plot Against
America references an alternate real reality.
Distorting What We Know
Aside from its literary merits, however, what distinguishes
Roth's book is how much--and how craftily--it mirrors contemporary events. But
to make matters more interesting, Roth employs a funhouse mirror. We recognize
parallels between Roth's counterfactual history and current events, but they're
distorted; the parallels are skewed.
For Philip, Lindbergh's presidency "assaulted as
nothing ever had before, that huge endowment of personal security that I had
taken for granted as an American child of American parents in an American
school in an American city in an America at peace with the world." These
words are sure to resonate with every post-9/11 American. Next, we're
introduced to a president who is "misleading the country with promises of
peace while secretly agitating and planning for our entry intro the armed
struggle." This too sounds strangely familiar. But wait. The president
Roth is referring to is FDR, the "good guy," if you will. When a few
pages later, Lindbergh lands his own plane and arrives at a public appearance
in his flying gear awakening "a surge of redemptive excitement,"
matters are confused even more. George W. Bush was criticized for being an
interventionist, FDR for the opposite; yet it's Roth's Lindbergh who Bush
parallels in this scene.
Then there's the issue of anti-Semitism. The Plot Against
America could be read as a warning to American Jews, a "This can happened
here," a comment on the perceived rise of anti-Semitism in the U.S. and
abroad. But this is Philip Roth, a life-long agitator of the Jewish
establishment, not its PR director.
The Plot Against America seems to be Philip Roth's
most political work. But what exactly is its politics?
A Half-Imaginary Existence
If the textual barriers to resolving this question weren't
enough, there are external barriers as well. For decades Roth has both dared us
to ask about the relationship between fact and fiction and warned us about
trying to extract direct lessons from literature. In an interview Roth asserted
that, "What you know from Flaubert or Beckett or Dostoyevsky is never a
great deal more than you knew before about adultery or loneliness or murder--what
you know is Madame Bovary, Molloy,and Crime and
Punishment."
By this logic, all we can learn from The Plot Against
America is The Plot Against America. The novel should only reference
itself.
Yet by definition, a counterfactual narrative reaches beyond
itself. It presumes that we know what actually occurred in the past.
Additionally, The Plot Against America contains a 25-page postscript
with biographical information about the historical figures mentioned in the
book.
So what is Philip Roth up to? Aside from its literary
genius, The Plot Against America is propelled by the excitement of this
unanswerable question.
Twenty years ago, Philip Roth remarked that making
"fake biography, false history, concocting a half-imaginary existence out
of the actual drama of my life is my life. There has to be some pleasure
in this job, and that's it."
Really, Mr. Roth, the pleasure is all ours.
Daniel Septimus is the
Editor-in-Chief of MyJewishLearning.com. His literature column, "Reading
Between the Lines," appears monthly in the Jerusalem Post.