Deep Comedy: Trinity, Tragedy, & Hope In Western Literature

by Peter J. Leithart

In this short but stimulating work, Peter Leithart draws upon insights from history, theology, philosophy, and literature to connect two of the most glorious and unique truths of Christianity—its hopeful eschatology and its doctrine of a dynamic, personal Trinity. First, Leithart shows that the biblical view of history is essentially comic and hopeful, in contrast to the classical Greco-Roman view, which is essentially and irredeemably tragic. Then he develops the same point by examining Greek philosophy and its descendants (including postmodernism) in contrast to orthodox Trinitarian theology. Finally, he shows how the tragic and comic worldviews have been reflected in literature, with discussions of Greek epics and two Shakespearean plays. The result is a tour through three thousand years of intellectual history that celebrates the living power of orthodoxy.

Genres: Theology, Literature, Philosophy, Cultural, Christian, Nonfiction, Literary Criticism

159 pages, Paperback

First published October 27, 2006

About the author

Peter Leithart received an A.B. in English and History from Hillsdale College in 1981, and a Master of Arts in Religion and a Master of Theology from Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia in 1986 and 1987. In 1998 he received his Ph.D. at the University of Cambridge in England. He has served in two pastorates: He was pastor of Reformed Heritage Presbyterian Church (now Trinity Presbyterian Church), Birmingham, Alabama from 1989 to 1995, and was founding pastor of Trinity Reformed Church, Moscow, Idaho, and served on the pastoral staff at Trinity from 2003-2013. From 1998 to 2013 he taught theology and literature at New St. Andrews College, Moscow, Idaho, where he continues to teach as an adjunct Senior Fellow. He now serves as President of Trinity House in Alabama, where is also resident Church Teacher at the local CREC church. He and his wife, Noel, have ten children and five grandchildren.

Reviews

[Jeremy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Leithart argues that only a Christian vision can account for an optimistic outlook on history. I got bogged down in the philosophy of Chs. 3 and 4, but things picked up with Chs. 5 and 6, in which Leithart tackles tragedy and comedy in Greek epics and Shakespearean drama.

Some negatives: I wish Leithart would have been more meticulous with his citations, and the index in the back was not as accurate as I would have liked.

I'm amazed at how useful it has been as an antecedent to my literary theory course at Baylor. Post-structuralism views any origin or first principle in terms of exclusion (e.g., a male-dominated society viewing woman as "other" than man). But a trinitarian theology and the incarnation show how that is not necessarily the case. Origin and supplement can coexist without being destructive—simultaneous being and becoming, unity and diversity, one and many. The Son proceeds from the Father, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son, and they are all equal in power and glory. Not only that, but the Word became flesh. The origin entered His own supplemental/created universe to unite us to Himself.

Watch Leithart describe the book here (the idea came from his teaching a course like Regent's ENGL 205). Someone else's review here.

[Douglas Wilson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Outstanding.

[Zack Freeman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Classical vs Christian Tragedy and Comedy explored in depth and through examples that show why Christianity transforms the entirety of story, making comedy deep and even tragedy is now shifted in light of hope.

By the way, comedy here refers to a happy ending vs the sad ending of a tragedy. This was something I got hung up on for a bit at the beginning. Highly recommend this book!

[Scott W. Blankenship · Rating 4 out of 5]

The world is deeply comedic, because that is the story that God is telling. History moves from death to resurrection.

[Caleb M. Powers · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really enjoyed this book, but I need to read it again and take extensive notes, preferably after having read more Greek tragedies, postmodern philosophy, and Shakespearean dramas.

[Phil Cotnoir · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's a lot in this book that I loved. First, the sheer audacity of the premise. Is the comedic form really only possible within a Trinitarian metaphysic?

While this book delved into more detail than I was really able to follow, having read only a fraction of classical literature to which the author casually made reference, I found the thesis very compelling and intriguing. It's truly fascinating to ponder the fact that a certain kind of story, the kind with a truly happy ending, is only possible in a worldview with redemption and eschatological fulfillment built into it. And it seems to me that the author proves his point sufficiently well to establish the idea.

Even the tragedies written in the Christian era are tinged with the possibility of redemption and are therefore more tragic for it - such as King Lear.

The whole premise of the book is attractive to me, tucked away as it is under there in the foundations of cultures and ideas and stories. I confess I got lost in the details of this or that ancient Greek tragedy, and I haven't read the Aeneid, but nevertheless I got the main point, and it's one I'm going to be mulling over for some time.

I would love to see a condensed version of this argument made in an essay form, and I would love to see Peter Leithart sit down and talk about all this with someone like Anthony Esolen.

[Lukas Mason · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bring your waders for this one. Absolutely superb. Easily the best Leithart I've read, perhaps even one of the top ten books I've ever read. His section in Supplement at the Origin deconstructing the mother of all deconstructionists (Derrida) as well as the section on the Metaphysics of Death were so good, that I will no doubt return to them many times over the years to come. This book clarified some of the things we've been discussing in Comedy class regarding The Brothers Karamazov and Dante's Divine Comedy.

[Kara Naselli · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was perversely determined to give this book three stars until I made it into the last chapter, the one actually about deep comedy. It was wonderful and I need to read more Leithart. However, the previous chapters were quite a slog and it read very like a senior thesis paper that had not been submitted to the scrutiny of Mr. Kevin Smith. In short, it sounded a bit stuffy. To be fair, Leithart himself said he'd like to have given the book more work, though.

[Lucas Dorminy · Rating 4 out of 5]

A delightful doxology for the Playwright of playwrights.

[Ethan Preston · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 Stars. Excellent.

[Hannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a book. I listened to the audio recording, which forced my ears to fly through certain sections faster than my feeble brain could follow, so I think I'll be reading a hard copy next time—with a pencil in hand.

By happy accident, I started this book directly on the heels of "Joy at the End if the Tether" (Wilson's commentary on Ecclesiastes), which dovetailed beautifully with the themes of this book. I highly recommend reading the two together. Leithart draws on philosophical history, Trinitarian theology, and Greek and Christian literature to explain the comic joy that pervades the Christian conception of reality—even (especially?) when tragedy enters that reality. All will be well, and all manner of things will be well. This is a book worth reading more than once.

[Chris Comis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just finished it. One of the best books arguing for an essentially Postmillennial approach to life-- saturated with the kind of laughter and comedy that only the gospel can provide. It's so tragic that the Church doesn't realize what an effect the deep comedy of redemption could have on our culture. This is another one of those should've-read-it-yesterday kinda books.

[Jason Farley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was such a wonderful, wonderful read. It is definitly a "you can never turn back" type of read. The deep gears in my soul kept cuckunching as each chapter came to a close. I am really thankful for this book.

[Melody Schwarting · Rating 4 out of 5]

Leithart's central argument is that the Christian doctrines of the Trinity and eschatology have given Christian literature a unique format of "deep comedy." He hints at "deep tragedy," too, but hasn't written that book yet.

For a short book claiming to be about Western literature, Leithart examines a lot of Greek and European philosophy. With literature, the closest he gets to contemporary authors is Shakespeare. While this does not detract from the overall quality of the book, I did feel shortchanged as a reader, based on what the title promised.

Essentially, Leithart contrasts the ancient (read: Greek) worldview with the Christian worldview. His argument builds to a final chapter that examines King Lear and Twelfth Night in contrast to his readings of ancient literature (Homer, Virgil, Sophocles, Hesiod, et c.). Indeed, Shakespearean tragedy is vastly different from ancient tragedies. Oedipus Rex and King Lear are very different tragedies. Leithart argues that the ancient, tragedic worldview allows for noble resignation to the vagaries of human existence. The Christian worldview (even in tragedies) allows for the higher hope of eschatology, when "all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of thing will be well," as Julian of Norwich said.

Leithart makes some salient points about the medieval focus on comedy and the development of the adventure story, where the adventure is achieved by and not thrust upon the hero (Odysseus' adventure is thrust upon him, for he does not want to be gone from his home, and seeks return). What we think of as comedy, where the unjust get their due and the just rejoice, Leithart sees as uniquely Christian "deep comedy." This point seemed a bit myopic to me, for I see plenty of "deep comedy" in the Jewish worldview as well (the annual Purim celebration is deep comedy). For Christians, there is continuity between ancient Judaism and centuries of Christianity, but I don't think deep comedy can be labeled "Christian" alone. Leithart's extensive use of the Old Testament should have led him to this conclusion. He's onto something with the concept of "deep comedy," but he should define this project as "Christian deep comedy."

Unfortunately, Leithart let his points about the Trinity languish in the philosophical chapters, and did not explore them fully in the literary chapters. Yet, he's written so much about the Trinity elsewhere that his other books can supplement Deep Comedy, in theology if not in literature.

Overall, I recommend Deep Comedy if you enjoy philosophical literary criticism, Shakespeare, and Greek literature. If not, I recommend a viewing of The Shawshank Redemption as an easily-interpreted version of Christian deep comedy. Stephen King, while raised Methodist, does not call himself a Christian to my knowledge, but Shawshank is more of a Christian movie than any "Christian movie" I've seen. See: "redemption" in the title and the entire story arc; the main character getting baptized at the end; the unjust getting their dues; going to the beach heaven at the end.

If Shawshank is Christian deep comedy, then Citizen Kane has flavors of Greek tragedy, though it has an aftertaste of the "deep disappointment" that Leithart applies to recent literature (Faulkner and Melville are the authors he mentions/alludes to). I'd argue that Kane's solitary death among his amassed wealth, yearning only for his idyllic childhood before capitalistic gain became his sole life pursuit, is tragedy along the lines of the ancients rather than disappointment along the lines of the moderns. For Leithart's "deep tragedy," I'll have to do a bit more thinking.

Anyway, 10/10 to Leithart for giving me plenty to think about, and 6/10 for execution; while he admitted that this was a rather off-the-cuff project, that doesn't excuse a too-heavy focus on philosophy and a too-light focus on the Trinity.

[Andrew Meredith · Rating 5 out of 5]

First, "deep comedy," as Leithart defines it, differs from the usual theatrical definition of comedy (a play that ends happily) in that the former is a lasting permanent state of affairs, the very state that marks the eschaton in biblical narrative.

This book serves to briefly sketch through an exploration of ancient pagan literature and philosophy the marked contrast this Christian view has had on the Western worldview.

For the ancient world, even if a given particular instantiation of change is for the better, the very possibility of change will inevitably degrade from what is pure into what is less pure over time. Therefore, the world can have, at best, a static/cyclical nature, and at worst, it is the story of decay into nothingness. Ancient stories then have comedies that are never far removed from inevitable tragedy ("Golden ages" are always behind us; Odysseus will still die and live an empty existence in Hades that awaits him; the city Aeneas founds will one day crumble like Troy, Carthage, and the other great cities), and tragedies that are truly tragic.

The Christian understanding of God as He has revealed Himself in His Word, however, tells us that He is not one but three-in-one with the Son being eternally begotten from the Father and the Spirit eternally proceeding from the Father and the Son, without any diminuation of essence in the begetting and proceeding. Thus, at the very foundation of reality lies an eternal movement of personal differentiation without degradation but rather glory. When the Father, Son, and Spirit actuate the creation of the Cosmos, they create a world essentially other than themselves, but that is "very good" lacking any intrinsic tendency that necessitates a movement toward decay but rather a tendency toward "deep comedy." The biblical story of redemptive history is the progessive revealing to us of Who God always was.

After a fairly dense philosophical section, Leithart turns to examine the impact this shift has had on the stories we tell. He examines two of Shakespeare's plays, King Lear, his darkest tragedy, and Twelfth Night, his brightest comedy. As dark as King Lear is, it has a Christian hope of redemption, resurrection, and renewal undergirding it that makes the tragedy stand out all the more starkly. King Lear could repent and be redeemed, but he chooses not to. Twelfth Night, on the other hand, has a joy undergirding it, where the villian (often outright called a devil) is defeated through feasting and celebration.

Leithart concludes that belief in a deeply comical ending (the restoration of the cosmos) should result in a joyous, hopeful people. One of the greatest weapons in our arsenal for witnessing to a tragic-tuned world is true delight and deep laughter. Not the kind of grim laughter in the face of inevitable death as the ancient world (and modern philosophy) would have us emit, but a deep belly laugh because Christ has conquered death by rising from it, and death, not this world, is doomed.

[Josiah Richardson · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you are not familiar with the ancient classics, much of this book will be missed. Leithart pinpoints things that we all knew about a good story when we read one, which is the books are working off the assumptions that Scripture and Christians assume to be true. It reminds me of what Chesterton wrote some time ago about how everything mirrors the stories God has given us. His writing on this subject deserves quoted in full:

“For instance, Mr. Blatchford and his school point out that there are many myths parallel to the Christian story; that there were Pagan Christs, and Red Indian Incarnations, and Patagonian Crucifixions, for all I know or care. But does not Mr. Blatchford see the other side of this fact? If the Christian God really made the human race, would not the human race tend to rumours and perversions of the Christian God? If the center of our life is a certain fact, would not people far from the center have a muddled version of that fact? If we are so made that a Son of God must deliver us, is it odd that Patagonians should dream of a Son of God?

The Blatchfordian position really amounts to this, that because a certain thing has impressed millions of different people as likely or necessary therefore it cannot be true. And then this bashful being, veiling his own talents, convicts the wretched G.K.C. of paradox! I like paradox, but I am not prepared to dance and dazzle to the extent of Nunquam, who points to humanity crying out to a thing, and pointing to it from immemorial ages, as a proof that it cannot be there.

The story of a Christ is very common in legend and literature. So is the story of two lovers parted by Fate. So is the story of two friends killing each other for a woman. But will it seriously be maintained that, because these two stories are common as legends, therefore no two friends were ever separated by love or no two lovers by circumstances? It is tolerably plain, surely, that these two stories are common because the situation is an intensely probable and human one, because our nature is so built as to make them almost inevitable.

Why should it not be that our nature is so built as to make certain spiritual events inevitable? In any case, it is clearly ridiculous to attempt to disprove Christianity by the number and variety of Pagan Christs. You might as well take the number and variety of ideal schemes of society, from Plato's Republic to Morris' News from Nowhere, from More's Utopia to Blatchford's Merrie England, and then try and prove from them that mankind cannot ever reach a better social condition. If anything, of course, they prove the opposite; they suggest a human tendency towards a better condition.
Thus, in this first instance, when learned skeptics come to me and say, "Are you aware that the Kaffirs have a story of Incarnation?" I should reply: "Speaking as an unlearned person, I don't know. But speaking as a Christian, I should be very much astonished if they hadn't."

[Rafael Salazar · Rating 5 out of 5]

A fast-paced showcase of Christian scholarship in the liberal arts. Leithart makes an interesting case for the impact of Christianity in Western Literature through the subversion of its tragic elements with the idea of hope beyond death. He also suggests several stimulating thoughts on linguistics, postmodernism and Trinitarian theology (that I assume he later picks up in his Traces of the Trinity work). Overall, a great booklet with refreshing insights.

[Austin Hoffman · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pretty good. Some great sections in here. I got bogged down in the metaphysics section, but the main idea is great. Christianity transformed tragedy and comedy because the Trinitarian life shows how supplement can exist without degradation.

[William Schrecengost · Rating 5 out of 5]

Leithart argues that the Christian view of time and history is “comedic” whereas the pagan is “tragic”. While specifically applied to literature, it has wider application practically and theologically.

[raffaela · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating, too-short book that was a bit over my head at times. I'll need to marinate on this one and come back to it someday.

"Comedy may well be the preeminent Christian art form; and Christianity may be the preeminent spirituality necessary for comedy, especially comedic truth. What enables us to reflect upon our weakness and our folly without dread? It is the trust that comes from thinking on the supreme reality as a personal, and indeed loving, hence forgiving father."

[Emma R. Pilcher]

Very interesting, though difficult to follow on audio. I'll have to revisit this book when I'm older, wiser, and better read.

[Timothy Dehne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent!

[Drew Norwood · Rating 4 out of 5]

Leithart contrasts the tragic worldview of the classical world, and it’s manifestation in literature, with the Christian account of history which is characterized by “deep comedy.” Not just comedy, where the garden is lost and later restored, but deep comedy which moves "from garden to garden-city." The end is better than the beginning, and the end is untarnished by the possibility of a future fall.

The Greco-Roman tragic view of history coincided with their metaphysics and ethics, both tragic, which "kicked against the pricks of createdness.” While the classical world certainly produced comedies (The Odyssey and The Aeneid being prime examples), they did not produce deep comedies. “Deep comedy is a product of Christianity, a mark of resurrection life on the pages of Western literature.” Why does this matter? Leithart emphasizes the import in the concluding pages of the book: “The joy of Easter, the joy of resurrection, the joy of trinitarian life does not simply offer an alternative worldview to the tragic self-inflation of the ancients. Worked out in the joyful life of the Christian church, deep comedy is the chief weapon of our warfare. For the joy of the Lord is our strength and Satan shall be felled with 'cakes and ale' and midnight revels.”

The book is not an attack on classical literature or philosophy--in fact he honors that which is good in the classical world--but, rather, it was written to highlight the singularity of the Christian perspective. The Christian worldview alone can harmonize (in a way that is true to life) the brokenness and darkness of the present world with hope and joy. The Christian worldview alone can reasonably and sensibly lead to gratitude and rejoicing rather than death and despair.

Postscript: This book is, inadvertently, a good plug for the joining the "Great Conversation" (http://blogs.britannica.com/wp-conten...). If you haven't read Hesiod, Homer, Virgil, Shakespeare, and others, then you will be partially excluded from the discussion--like a child listening to adult conversation, able to nod along and benefit in some ways but not able to fully engage. I guess I was an adolescent listening in on the adults. But those who have done the reading are able to engage at a higher level with books like this one.

[Ben Smitthimedhin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Brilliant.

Leithart begins with the hopelessness that underlies the tragedies of the Greco-roman world (Aeneid, Odyssey, Iliad). He then connects this theme with the deconstructionism of Derrida, which he shows is borrowed from the Platonic idea of how "any departure from or addition to a pure origin is necessarily a regression, an exile, a 'fall,'" and how Derrida's philosophy can be countered with trinitarian theology (where Father, Son, and Spirit coexists without any negation of the "origin"). The common theme of Western tragedies is the fear of death, which can also be countered by Christian theology because of mankind's final resurrection and reconciliation with Christ.

His analysis of Shakespeare's plays as examples of "deep comedy" are spot on. Even in Shakespeare's "tragedies" there is an underlying theme of the hope of reconciliation and what could've been if it weren't for mankind's sinful actions.

[Steve · Rating 5 out of 5]

fantastic!

[Kent · Rating 5 out of 5]

Disposes of all the deepest philosophical problems of the western world in a little over 100 pages.

[Winnie Thornton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful.

[Sean Wilson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Leithart argues that the Resurrection has fundamentally changed the narrative of our world from the story of an endless tragic cycle into a comedy, and that this change in the world can be traced in Western literature.

An interesting point worth pondering is the claim that the fact that God is triune automatically challenges the "supplement is a downgrade" assumption of much ancient philosophy. So, the Son is the perfect image of the Father, not a second-tier photocopy. Thus, the word should not be thought to be in some violent relationship with its author; the word can even bring glory to the one whose image it reflects.

The more familiar you are with Shakespeare, Derrida and various ancient philosophers, the more you'll get out of this. I confess that many of the details about particular texts sailed past me, but I enjoyed the discussion as far as I could follow it.

[Aurora Grace · Rating 1 out of 5]

One of the essential problems that postmodernism presents us with is the inevitable distortion within communication. What the speaker says the hear only partially understands. Leithart's book is an attempt to refute this conundrum presented to us by postmodernism by essentially arguing that there is no loss of communication between Father, Son, and Spirit within Trinitarian theology. His argument, of course, only works (and let's be honest, it doesn't even work then) within an inerrant worldview where the Bible is a perfect and flawless record directly given to us by God. As soon as humans come into the picture the argument collapses in on itself and the postmodern dilemma holds.

[Jennifer Ritchie · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting and, overall, enjoyable book. I confess that I skimmed some parts in the middle of the book when it become very abstruse and philosophical. I just don’t have much patience for that sort of thing. Leithart’s argument in that section was to the effect that all the difficult quandaries encountered in pagan/secular philosophy can be perfectly resolved if we understand reality to be based in trinitarian theology. But I was more interested in his discussion of ancient versus medieval/modern literature, which was insightful. If you’re of a philosophical turn of mind, or if you enjoy literary criticism, you might enjoy this book. If you don’t like those things, give it a miss.