Swift’ s A Modest Proposal

Elbow Patches and Baby Flesh

An In-Class Analysis of Dr. Jonathan Swift’s A Modest Proposal

Brennan Columbia-Walsh

In this piece, Brennan Columbia-Walsh discusses the most powerful satirical devices of A Modest Proposal. Columbia-Walsh explains how the author’ s impersonation of academics, the exact figures he is attempting to criticize, is the most effective satirical theme of the essay. Columbia-Walsh explains how Dr. Jonathan Swift’s mockery of academia as a whole is integral to his desire to mock their proposals. Throughout his analysis, Columbia-Walsh identifies the keys to effective satire and their role in Swift’s essay.

In the world of elbow patches, pretentious wooden pipes, and professorial

quips, a brand of intellects breed in such indifference and sanctimony that their

universal solutions — gifted nobly, of course — for every problem in the world can

only naturally peak in a proposal of something representative of the intellects

themselves: eating babies. So moral, so easily orchestrated is this proposition that it

is quite honestly surprising the entire world has not yet begun their feast on the

next generation. If it were not for those loving philosophers who, through impossible

verbosity and felicitous equivocation, have enlightened us with their truthful

wisdom, we would be, quite simply put, savages. In A Modest Proposal, Dr.

Jonathan Swift satirizes the Irish state, bringing light to its poverty and squalor in

a disturbingly hilarious suggestion that all poor babies be cooked, boiled, and baked

until universal happiness is achieved. In order to convince his audience of this

flawless cause, he assumes the persona of an Irish thought leader, handing down

gruesomely unrealistic solutions to gruesomely real problems. Moreover, in adopting

this persona, he employs an overtly academic tone reminiscent of the indifferent,

intellectually aristocratic class of academics who constituted an out-of-touch strata

of western thinkers during the eighteenth and nineteen centuries — and, perhaps,

all centuries before then and all centuries after. Indeed, amidst the hyperbolic

ramblings of his proposal to eat children, Swift's impersonation and ridicule of this

echelon of academia through the use of invective constitutes the most effective

satirical method of the essay.

In assuming the guise of an academic, Swift not only satirizes the

indifference of their proposals, but he also mocks the role and identity of the

academic in its entirety. In order to understand the writing and comments of an

intellect, one must first navigate an impossibly verbose tone. Swift employs

invective and targets the academic's tone by directly implementing it into his

writing. Indeed, he wants his proposal to contain the pomp and frill indicative of the

bombastic geniuses he targets. For example, in a simple introduction of his ideas,

Swift circumvents any possibility of brevity: "Some personas of a desponding spirit

are in great concern about that vast number of poor people, who are aged, diseased,

or maimed; and I have been desired to employ my thoughts what course may be

taken, to ease the nation of so grievous an encumbrance" (Swift 130-133). There

exists a palpable intellectual superiority in this sentence. The very notion that Swift

must first describe his descendance down to this problem before addressing it

exemplifies his sanctimonious role and assumption that he is the only possible

solution. Furthermore, his severe downplay of "that vast number of poor people,

who are aged diseased or maimed" emphasizes the out-of-touch nature of Swift's

solutionist. In adopting such a tone, Swift convinces his reader that he relates and

speaks on behalf of the academic elite. Any satirist worth their salt understands

that the next logical step would be to make himself as loathsome and repulsive as

language allows, in turn redirecting any inevitable criticism to the actual academics

themselves. Swift utilizes this tactic in his description of the proposal:

I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed, is, at a year old, a most delicious nourishing and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, basked, or boil; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricasie, or a ragoust. (Swift 58-61)

Swift purposefully paints this sinister picture because he wants to ensure his reader

that such a daunting and bloodthirsty proposition is characteristic of the

compassion that the intellects offer. This tactic — incomplete without his dig at the

American elites — exemplifies invective: when they offer to eat your children, it's

because they really care. Furthermore, he employs invective in his academic tone,

directing his satirical attack at the academics' language. How might this intellect

offer any doubt of indifference when they are spending so much time carefully

encrypting their words so that even if one wanted to use the proposal, they could

not get that far, as they could not read it? Moreover, it merits note that Swift offers

this proposal for public consideration, which means he expects his poorly educated,

impoverished subjects — whom he adores, of course — to be able to decipher his

philosophic ramblings. However, symbolic of all academics trying to climb the

intellectual ladder through insufferable sycophancy, Swift ends his essay in an

exemption of guilt:

I profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I have not the least personal interest in endeavoring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive than the public good of my country, by advancing our trade, providing for infants, relieving the poor and, giving some pleasure to the rich. (Swift 234-237)

Characteristic of academics everywhere who protect themselves with phrases such

as "it can be argued" or "one might say," Swift back-peddles away from his

soon-to-be-explosive device so as to avoid all of the backlash and enjoy all of the

prestige. All at once critiquing everything yet agreeing with everyone, this balance

of trailblazing and brownnosing plagues academic writing everywhere. In evading

any motive beyond the compassionate few that are acceptable to his audience, he

gives a last-ditch effort to pad himself, beckoning parallels to the intellects he

satirizes. The proud self-introduction, pretentiously out-of-touch intellectual

saviorism, indecipherable tone, and nimble exemption of guilt that Swift employs

perfectly criticize the realistic version of his persona.

Unless the reader is a previously established baby flesh connoisseur, it is not

out of pocket to suggest that they might reject the proposal that Swift issues forth.

However, in rejecting this proposal and loathing the academic saint who offered it,

they likewise criticize the more popularly revered saints who engage in a similar

trade. It is, put simply, disapprobation by association. In any satirical proposal,

there exist timely aspects and timeless aspects. Timely is the criticism of Irish

poverty and politicians in Swift's work. Timeless is his critique of academic elitism.

More than a proposal for baby-eating or a ridicule of those who crave it, A Modest

Proposal is a critique of intellectual solutionists who descend with indifferent eyes

to fix the problems of a life to which they do not and cannot relate. Instead of

continuing this trend, the world might take the high horse to the back of the barn

and shoot it in the head, and, in its wake, adopt a more understandable tone in

writing. It's a hard-fought goal but one that would bridge the gap between the

academically superior and educationally unexposed. More importantly, perhaps the

writer of this analysis might take note of Swift’s critique and ditch the Sunday

words. Or perhaps he shall perpetuate this vicious cycle of needless verbosity,

bombastically philosophical quips, stentorian pronunciations and — oh, enough

already. Let's eat!