Upward Mobility and the Common Good: Toward a Literary History of the Welfare State

by Bruce Robbins

We think we know what upward mobility stories are about--virtuous striving justly rewarded, or unprincipled social climbing regrettably unpunished. Either way, these stories seem obviously concerned with the self-making of self-reliant individuals rather than with any collective interest. In Upward Mobility and the Common Good , Bruce Robbins completely overturns these assumptions to expose a hidden tradition of erotic social interdependence at the heart of the literary canon.


Reinterpreting novels by figures such as Balzac, Stendhal, Charlotte Brontë, Dickens, Dreiser, Wells, Doctorow, and Ishiguro, along with a number of films, Robbins shows how deeply the material and erotic desires of upwardly mobile characters are intertwined with the aid they receive from some sort of benefactor or mentor. In his view, Hannibal Lecter of The Silence of the Lambs becomes a key figure of social mobility in our time. Robbins argues that passionate and ambiguous relationships (like that between Lecter and Clarice Starling) carry the upward mobility story far from anyone's simple self-interest, whether the protagonist's or the mentor's. Robbins concludes that upward mobility stories have paradoxically helped American and European society make the transition from an ethic of individual responsibility to one of collective accountability, a shift that made the welfare state possible, but that also helps account for society's fascination with cases of sexual abuse and harassment by figures of authority.

328 pages, Hardcover

First published June 1, 2007

About the author

Bruce Robbins is the author of Feeling Global: Internationalism in Distress (NYU, 1999), The Servant’s Hand: English Fiction from Below (Columbia, 1986; Duke pb 1993) and Secular Vocations: Intellectuals, Professionalism, Culture (Verso, 1993). He has edited Intellectuals: Aesthetics, Politics, Academics (Minnesota, 1990) and The Phantom Public Sphere (Minnesota, 1993) and co-edited Cosmopolitics: Thinking and Feeling Beyond the Nation (Minnesota, 1998). He was co-editor of the journal Social Text from 1991 to 2000. His most recent book is Upward Mobility and the Common Good: Toward a Literary History of the Welfare State (Princeton, 2009).

Reviews

[Xinle Hou · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book really displays an interesting human magnanimity and narrative grace by which upward mobility stories somehow manage NOT to be obnoxious, which is a question pondering me for long.

As the stories about upward mobility are quite prevalent in the book market, they are routinely described as "inspiring", hinting at some lessons on how to be successful. But, is "inspiring" the fair word to say for how readers feel as most have reason to that they could not succeed and they are now asked to contemplate? The inequality, class, race, gender, etc, are very inherent, and the upward mobility story never applies to the majority---It does not result in inspiration, but in a sense of personal deficiency. As Robbins puts it, "if you have been too fortune, you may feel a paradoxical sense of personal misfortune", and anyone who feels to be cheated by the upward mobility stories, they have reasons to suspect if these are "rhetorical weapons designed for the ruthless seizure of moral advantage" .

The worth of upward mobility stories may lie in the act of boasting. In tracing along with the "coming of age" story in the States and that earlier trend in Europe, Robbins evokes many interesting thoughts on poverty, race, and gender---how the fundamental question of inequality is debunked into the gamut of class-related feelings, politicalized, or politicizable. In particular, he pinpoints that between the extremes of caring and boredom, "the most important feelings for the purpose of [his] argument: erotic ones." The insecurity from social-climbing seeks shelter in love stories!

I will stop here to avoid spoilers as Robbins does an excellent job in explaining the intertwinement between class mobility and personal relations through observing many of the most entertaining texts, Hannibal, the Red and the Black, Hunger of Memory, Never let me go, etc. (My personal favs!!!).

Personally, I am very invested in the paradox that existed in happiness. For me, happiness has two kinds: personal happiness that only concerns individual experience, and public happiness that depends on the collective to which people belong. Personal happiness can be a quest for romantic love, a care for families, and even attachment to pets. In general, it is the deep dependence on the genuine emotions we hold for people we deeply love. On the other hand, public happiness is the political ideals we uphold, the career we work hard for, and the public affairs we participate in. It is the social or capital values we produce for the world. People escape from their failed personal life by devoting themselves to some grand narrative---their work, their political beliefs or etc.; and when they are discouraged by their failed work, they seek comforts in love and relationships. It almost feels like happiness exists in the escapes people created for themselves.

When I read Pamuk's Snow, a moral lesson is drawn in the book, "People who only seek personal happiness will never find it."

Life is filled with absurdity( For example! This pandemic! We truly cannot hold control on everything we do). In relying on success in personal life to be happy, we truly throw ourselves on a rollercoaster. However, I do think it is a more courageous, more difficult, and more valuable quality of people who constantly seek private happiness. The absurdity in private life is so private that we can only precisely understand and deal with our own struggles while the absurdity in public life is what everyone can face together.

Anyways. I never regret, and will never, as I always, and will always surrender when my heart melts.