| | The destructive character has the consciousness of historical man, whose deepest emotion is an insuperable mistrust of the course of things and a readiness at all times to recognize that everything can go wrong. Therefore the destructive character is reliability itself. 9
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In Steiner, who readily acknowledges Benjamin's influence, there is something of the destructive character's relation to tradition and to history. Steiner stands on the front line of the traditionalists, for unlike the true conservative, his attitude toward historical knowledge is practicable; he may revere the past, but he uses it strategically. In 1931, Benjamin, as one of the most refined products of secular European Jewry, writes with frightening precision of "a readiness at all times to recognize that everything can go wrong." Steiner places this readiness at the heart of his understanding of contemporary culture. Because everything can go wrong, tradition cannot merely be conserved but must be deployed: "To be able to envisage possibilities of self-destruction, yet press home the debate with the unknown, is no mean thing." 10 In the spirit of Benjamin, Adorno, Lukács, and Bloch, what appears in Steiner as a rear-guard action proves to be an assault on the future, on the gates of heaven, launched, as Kafka dreamed, from below. Meanwhile, we are told, "Dreams must be disciplined to cover the ground of the possible." 11
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Steiner's rhetoric of cultural authority, the voice of the disciplined master who seeks in turn to discipline his readers ("To Civilize our Gentlemen," as the title of an early essay quaintly puts it), emerges from this usually covert utopian or messianic perspective, which in turn has been influenced by earlier modes of Jewish thought. Like Harold Bloom, Steiner conceives of cultural activity as essentially "text-centered"; as he implies in many of his essays, the Jewish devotion to the text can serve as a model for all readers and writers struggling to continue their work under adverse historical conditions. Thus, given the changes in Western culture, especially since World War II, all those who still devote themselves to literature can be regarded, at least metaphorically, as "Jews." Furthermore, Steiner's insistence that all art depends upon a spiritual dimension, a ''wager on transcendence," productively blurs the line between the secular and the religious, leading us back to crucial questions of belief and artistic creation. As in the case of Cynthia Ozick, Steiner's attempts to come to terms with such questions account for his own style in both his criticism and his fiction. It is Steiner's engagement
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