Utopia

For more than 2,000 years utopian visionaries have sought to create a blueprint of the ideal society: from Plato to HG Wells, from Cloudcuckooland to Shangri-La, the utopian impulse has generated a vast body of work, encompassing philosophy and political theory, classical literature and science fiction. And yet these utopian dreams have often turned to nightmare, as utopia gives way to its dark reflection, dystopia.

The Pocket Essential Utopia takes the reader on a journey through these imaginary worlds, charting the progress of utopian ideas from their origins within the classical world, to the rebirth of utopian ideals in the Middle Ages. Later we see the emergence of socialist and feminist ideas; while the twentieth century was to be dominated by expressions of totalitarian oppression. From the novel to the political manifesto, from satire to science fiction, utopias have always reflected the age that gave rise to them, and this guide will explore this historical context, offering both an analysis of the key texts and an account of their political and cultural background.

Today, it is claimed that we are witnessing the death of utopia, as increasingly the ideals that give rise to them are undermined or dismissed. These arguments are explored and evaluated here, and contemporary examples of utopian thought used to demonstrate the enduring relevance of the utopian tradition.

Merlin Coverley is a writer and bookseller. He is the author of Pocket Essentials on Utopia, London Writing, Psychogeography, Occult London and The Art of Wandering.

pocketessentials.com

Other books in this series by the same author:

London Writing

Psychogeography

Occult London

To Orla

Contents

Introduction

The Birth of Utopia: The Golden Age

The Myth of Atlantis; The Golden Age; Lycurgus and the Spartans; Plato, The Republic; St Augustine, City of God

More, Utopia and the Early Modern Era

Thomas More, Utopia; Michel de Montaigne, On Cannibals; Tommaso Campanella, City of the Sun; Francis Bacon, New Atlantis; Margaret Cavendish, The Blazing World; Henry Neville, The Isle of Pines

Shipwrecked: Crusoe and the Imaginary Voyage

Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe; Jonathan Swift, Gulliver’s Travels; Voltaire, Candide; Samuel Johnson, Rasselas; De Bougainville, Voyage Around the World

Socialism and Utopia

Claude-Henri de Saint-Simon; Charles Fourier; Robert Owen, A New View of Society; Karl Marx & Friedrich Engels, The Communist Manifesto; Edward Bellamy, Looking Backward; William Morris, News From Nowhere

Totalitarian Nightmares

HG Wells, A Modern Utopia; Jack London, The Iron Heel; Yevgeny Zamyatin, We; Katherine Burdekin, Swastika Night; Aldous Huxley, Brave New World; George Orwell, 1984

The Cold War to the Present

Kurt Vonnegut, Player Piano; Derek Raymond, A State of Denmark; Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed; Marge Piercy, Woman on the Edge of Time; Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale; JG Ballard, Kingdom Come

Afterword: The Death of Utopia?

Further Reading

Websites

Copyright

Introduction

By then I had realised – and if I had not, I would have been singularly obtuse – that the idea of a perfect world had, through the ages, embedded itself inextricably in the feelings of the human race. The more I searched for examples, definitions and hopes, the more all-enveloping did the idea become. The range of utopias was, as far as I could see, infinite, and any kind of catalogue would have been impossible, if only because utopias are, amoeba-like, capable of indefinitely dividing themselves in half. Bernard Levin, A World Elsewhere¹

Uto’pia (u) n. Imaginary place with perfect social and political system; ideally perfect place or state of things. [title of book by More (1516), mod. L, = nowhere, f. Gk ou not + topos place; see –IA]²

Judged on the brief definition above, the concept of utopia at first appears reassuringly straightforward – a perfect but imaginary place – and one which we all recognise. And yet on closer inspection this term reveals itself to be something rather more ambiguous. Utopia is, of course, the name Sir Thomas More created for his book of 1516. But More’s title combines two Greek neologisms, outopia, meaning no-place, and eutopia, meaning good-place, to create a word that is also a pun, and a place that is simultaneously good and non-existent. As a consequence, later writers have attempted to coin a term to suggest the opposite, a bad but equally imaginary place. Firstly, Jeremy Bentham, in 1818, introduced the term cacotopia, meaning bad or worst place. But this was to be superseded by the term dystopia, first used by Bentham’s younger colleague John Stuart Mill in an address to Parliament in 1868. Since then, however, there has been a further attempt to reclassify the growing multiplicity of utopian worlds by separating those which are intentionally dystopian from those which sought to be utopian but whose aims were somehow perverted. This latter group of utopias gone bad have become known since the 1960s as anti-utopias. Further-more, in recent decades, new variants upon the utopian theme have begun to emerge. Amongst these are: ecotopia, an ecological utopia and the title of Ernest Callenbach’s utopian novel of 1975; e-topia, the translation of utopia to the virtual realm; and finally heterotopia, Michel Foucault’s puzzling notion of a place outside or between the categories of the physical and the mental whose otherness challenges our everyday understanding of time and place.

In this account I will be employing the term utopia in its broadest sense, as an umbrella under which accounts of imaginary worlds, good, bad, and most frequently both, take shelter alongside more practical attempts to make such dreams a reality. My emphasis here will be upon utopia as primarily a literary tradition, the precursors to which precede the publication of More’s Utopia by more than two thousand years. As a literary genre, however, accounts of utopia are not restricted to the novel, a relatively recent addition to the utopian tradition, and one which is supplemented by poetry and polemic, apocalyptic visions and eye-witness statement. Of course, not every account of an imaginary place can qualify as utopian, and the entries here all offer a detailed and sustained attempt to outline a fully-realised alternate world. Equally importantly, such entries must capture the hopes and fears of their authors and the societies that produced them. Consequently, as historical fashions change, so one generation’s utopia may, and almost always does, become the following generation’s nightmare. Hence, the utopias of Plato and More, Owen and Wells, may well contain within them elements that appear sensible or even attractive but one would be challenged to find a contemporary reader willing to join the communities they envisaged.

Writing in his introduction to More’s Utopia in 1965, Paul Turner notes that the utopian genre has since produced ‘well over a hundred specimens, the last in 1962’.³ Yet only fourteen years after the date of Turner’s last example, in 1976, Lyman Tower Sargent’s monumental British and American Utopian Literature, 1516–1985: An Annotated, Chronological Bibliography was to include more than 3,000 entries.⁴ This vast discrepancy simply highlights the fact that a precise definition of what constitutes a utopia remains as elusive as ever. In recent years there have been myriad academic ‘solutions’ to this particular problem, often involving an attempt to judge the ‘credibility’ of a particular utopian narrative through an analysis of the types of social organisation it employs.⁵ It is beyond the scope of this book to discuss such developments here, other than to note that any author compiling an overview of the utopian genre will quickly find himself in agreement with Bernard Levin’s remarks above. For the more one immerses oneself in the utopian tradition the more one is made aware of its sheer scale and complexity, as the search for new examples reveals endless new lines of inquiry. Needless to say, any attempt to accommodate all, or even a substantial part, of the utopian canon in this account, would render it little more than an exercise in bibliography.

Instead, I have chosen to select a representative sample from those texts which have captured most clearly the utopian hopes and fears of their day. This selection is restricted to the Western literary tradition, although many of these narratives site their utopias far beyond the borders of the Western world, often within the then uncharted spaces of the southern hemisphere. Of course, several entries simply demand inclusion – it would be hard to envisage an overview of the utopian genre that omitted Plato’s Republic, More’s Utopia, or the works of Robert Owen and HG Wells. Elsewhere, however, I have chosen to discuss utopias more frequently overlooked in standard accounts of the genre: works such as Henry Neville’s The Island of Pines, Louis de Bougainville’s Voyage Round the World, and a more recent example, Derek Raymond’s A State of Denmark. Inevitably in a project of this scope one is faced with awkward choices, particularly as one approaches congested periods such as the late nineteenth century, in which the production of utopias was to increase exponentially. Indeed, it soon becomes clear that for each utopia listed within these pages, many others have been omitted: so while Swift’s eighteenth-century satire, Gulliver’s Travels, has been included, Samuel Butler’s nineteenth-century equivalent, Erewhon, has not; Rousseau’s account of the noble savage has been overlooked in favour of Montaigne’s essay On Cannibals; Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s pioneering feminist utopia, Herland, has had to make way for Katherine Burdekin’s equally ground-breaking dystopia, Swastika Night; while, amidst a positive glut of totalitarian nightmares from the twentieth century, Zamyatin’s We and Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four have eclipsed Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 and Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange.

As an afterword to this book, I have briefly summarised current arguments surrounding the idea that utopia is an exhausted, or even dying concept. Despite, or perhaps as a result of this debate, however, publications on the subject of utopia in books, journals and online continue to grow. I have compiled a short selection of such material for further reading, and several of these titles are worthy of particular attention. The Faber Book of Utopias (1999), edited by John Carey and The Utopia Reader (1999), edited by Gregory Claeys and Lyman Tower Sargent, are the most accessible and informative single-volume overviews of the utopian literary tradition; both have proven an invaluable source of information. While Lyman Tower Sargent’s colossal bibliography, mentioned above, remains the most comprehensive reference work upon the subject, this position is challenged by Mary Ellen Snodgrass’s similarly exhaustive Encyclopaedia of Utopian Literature. For those seeking to understand the lasting influence exerted upon utopian ideas by the islands of the South Pacific, Neil Rennie’s Far Fetched Facts: The Literature of Travel and the Idea of the South Seas provides the definitive account. Finally, Bernard Levin’s A World Elsewhere is a politically alert, and often very witty, history of the genre, born of a lifetime’s reflection on the subject.

Notes

¹ Bernard Levin, A World Elsewhere, London: Jonathan Cape, 1994, p. xvi.

² Concise Oxford Dictionary, Sixth Edition (1976), ed. by JB Sykes, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1976, p. 1282.

³ Paul Turner, ed. Utopia, Thomas More (1516), London: Penguin, 1965, Introduction, p. 16.

⁴ Lyman Tower Sargent, British and American Utopian Literature, 1516–1985: An Annotated, Chronological Bibliography, Boston: GK Hall, 1979.

⁵ For an account of two such attempts at definition, see Susan Bruce, ed., Three Early Modern Utopias, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999, Introduction, p. xii.

The Birth of Utopia: The Golden Age

The first eutopias we know of are myths that look to the past of the human race or beyond death for a time when human life was or will be easier and more gratifying. They have various labels – golden ages, Arcadias, earthly paradises, fortunate isles, isles of the blest. They are peopled with our earliest ancestors; heroes and, very rarely, heroines; the virtuous dead; or in some cases, contemporaneous but little-known noble savages…These utopias of sensual gratification are social dreaming at its simplest. Every culture has some such stories. Gregory Claeys & Lyman Tower Sargent.¹

The term Utopia was