Last Words on ‘End of History,’ Death of Novels

So far, the best magazine reading for the New Year looks to be the spillover of debate on a couple of 1989’s hottest intellectual (pseudo-intellectual?) issues: Francis Fukuyama’s “End of History?” essay in the National Interest, and Tom Wolfe’s alarum about the state of the American novel in Harper’s Magazine.

The winter issue of the National Interest contains a reply by Fukuyama to the thundering horde of critics that savaged his daring theory.

Readers may recall the battle. In the summer National Interest, Fukuyama (who had been an anonymous State Department planner before his thesis made him a D. C. celebrity of sorts) argued that Gorbachev’s glasnost may well prove that Western liberal democracy has now triumphed to such an extent that history--at least ideologically driven history, as defined by the 18th Century philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel--is soon to become a thing of the past.

In the same issue, National Interest gave several pundits room to respond to Fukuyama, but the ensuing battle could not be contained, and quickly spilled over into newspapers, news weeklies, and other publications here and abroad.

Now Fukuyama writes that the real accomplishment of his essay was “to produce a uniquely universal consensus, not on the current status of liberalism, but on the fact that I was wrong and that history has not in fact ended.”

Fukuyama’s response is good-humored, although he is unable to contain his disdain for the critics he feels misread--or failed to read--his original thesis. Most of his energy is spent peeling through these “layers of misunderstanding.”

In the first round of debate, Fukuyama asserted that one of his primary goals in writing the essay was to make people think about problems the democratic-egalitarian trend carries with it.

He addresses some of those in the new essay, most eloquently the issue of how those who have democracy will define and live “the good life” it affords--”The vacuum that constitutes our freedom can be filled with anything: sloth and self-indulgence as well as moderation and courage, desire for wealth and preoccupation with commercial gain as well as love of reflection and pursuit of beauty, banality alongside spirituality.”

In the fall, when the endless blather about the end of history began to fade, the November issue of Harper’s arrived to fill the vacuum with an essay by a better known cultural rabble-rouser--Tom Wolfe. In his “manifesto,” entitled “Stalking the Billion-Footed Beast,” Wolfe argues that at least since the late 1950s, American novelists have been blundering about under the spell of avant-garde theorists, ignoring the higher calling of realism.

The response from literary America, as reflected in a draft selection of letters scheduled to appear in next February’s Harper’s, is--at least by the standards of the circumspect literati--almost as unified in its condemnation as was the response to Fukuyama.

For instance, Philip Roth, author of “Portnoy’s Complaint,” chastises Wolfe for failing to grasp or for misrepresenting an essay he wrote, in 1961, about novelists turning away from grand realistic themes. That Wolfe portrayed him as having “turned a whole generation against realism,” Roth writes, “strikes me, frankly, as nuts.”

Most of the authors argue for an ecumenical approach to fiction writing, one that embraces all variety of styles and world views. Jim Harrison, author of “Dalva” (1988) and “Sundog” (1984), writes that Wolfe’s essay reminded him that “reality is consensual, and that part of growing up is accepting different worlds: my mother’s, my lawyer’s, Dan Quayle’s and now Tom Wolfe’s, with a thousand others intermixed.”

But novelist Richard Bausch offers the clearest perspective on Wolfe’s essay--as well as the ensuing debate.

“We’re not all sociologists, nor are we supposed to be,” he asserts. “This sort of stuff is fine for cocktail parties and boozy late night talk, but finally it’s just not all that important. The stories will keep getting written and told, and they’ll be whatever they are, and the generations will remember some of them.”

Zoo Life Joins Flock of Wildlife Magazines

Nature lovers can take comfort in the fact that even as the number of animal species on the Earth diminishes, the small flock of magazines devoted to wildlife in the wild remains robust. They should also take comfort, however, from the premiere issue of a slick, general interest quarterly devoted to wildlife in captivity.

Zoo Life, published by the Ingle Publishing Co. in Los Angeles, in association with the American Assn. of Zoological Parks and Aquariums, is a clearly partisan magazine dedicated to the conservation and captive breeding programs that help preserve endangered species, and to the “fun and sense of wonder that zoological parks inspire.”

Among the well-balanced articles in the first issue is an essay on the conservation role that zoos play as “the Noah’s Arks of the 20th Century”; a feature on the Los Angeles Zoo’s new Adventure Island; and such interesting tidbits as a recipe for anteater chow (one pound commercial bird of prey diet mix, one scoop dog chow, two tablespoons yogurt, two peeled oranges, one peeled avocado and one pound of cottage cheese).

Zoos have revolutionized their approach to the public in the last several years, putting their educational product in as entertaining a package as amusement parks put their thrills. Zoo Life follows suit.

Without sacrificing the message, the magazine is easy to read and graphically beautiful. The photography is excellent. And $2 from each subscription is contributed to whatever zoo the reader designates.

(Zoo Life, $9.95 a year, P.O. Box 886, Farmingdale, NY 11737-9786.)

Glasnost Embraces Tools of Democracy

The tragedy of the emerging post-Cold War countries, cynics have observed, is that they are destined to learn their primary lessons about democracy from the U.S. electoral process. A worrisome article in the New Republic for Jan. 8-15 details how certain institutions of democracy the Founding Fathers never envisioned--public relations firms, lobbyists, and political consultants--have made their move on Eastern Europe.

The piece focuses, for example, on Frank Mankiewicz, a PR executive who previously handled press relations for Robert Kennedy and served as George McGovern’s campaign manager. Like other enterprising Americans, Mankiewicz saw big opportunity in the budding freedom of the Eastern Bloc. Now he has a job polishing the image of the Hungarian Socialist Party, whose public approval rating in Hungary is reportedly 3%.