Dive is concerned “with the relationship between ‘imagination,’ ‘reason,’ ‘moral feeling,’ ‘ethos,’ and the ‘personal’” (20). The book is an ambitious—and long—attempt to trace and exposit the complex of these ideas through many of Newman's works chronologically, beginning in the 1830s right through the 1860s and 1870s. The main texts considered through the various chapters include Lyra Apostolica, Parochial and Plain Sermons, Essays Critical and Historical, Via Media, Loss and Gain, Idea of a University, Callista, Apologia Pro Vita Sua, The Dream of Gerontius, and the Grammar of Assent. Dive's book continues a long line of interest in Newman's view of the imagination though he does not draw on much of it. Other scholars have discussed the role of the imagination in Newman's thought, including Gerard Magill, Martin Moleski, Andrew Meszaros, Terrence Merrigan (who had a journal article specifically on the topic in 2009 and is not cited), Jane Rupert, Christopher Pramuk, and Robert Pattison—yet Dive refers to Merrigan only in the “select bibliography.” The select bibliography registers only nine books published since 2000.
Nevertheless, Dive treats a range of topics, at times with the imagination in the foreground and sometimes in the background of his commentary: faith and right action, the relationship of faith to phronesis and conscience, faith and reason, ecclesiology, faith and culture, philosophy of education, faith as a type of vision, and imaginative apprehension. In various accounts of “vision” and “images,” the imagination is operative at a deeper experiential, perceiving/intuitive level than rational reflection expressed in language—a theme convincingly demonstrated. Throughout the book, Dive shows how Newman contrasts the mystery of lived experience with representation of ideas (and images) that cannot capture the experience.
Most of the book constitutes a close reading of Newman's texts and ideas. He is measured in his judgments and careful in his interpretations. Dive rarely makes generalizations or overstates points. He often shows readers how Newman's ideas possess more than one meaning and direction. This is certainly a welcome change from those who write about Newman's thoughts in rigid ways. Although Dive provides a clear outline for the project, at times his argument is difficult to follow because section numbers are used rather than subheadings.
One of the more interesting points regards the connection between Newman's view of “images” and how they might be forms of “understanding” or “insight” into the various realities contemplated. “Image,” here, goes beyond pictorial representation. In the last chapter, the centrality of Christ to Dive's account of image and the religious imagination is mentioned. Here Dive interprets Newman in ways that echo Bonaventure and the Franciscan tradition of drawing all things to and through Christ in terms of thinking and willing, but this point needs more development. Dive's account of image and imagination tends in the direction of a personal, moral experience of radical mystery, living presence, and radical intelligibility that, animated by devotion, moves the whole person closer toward the living God. The concrete animating principle, not “explicit reason” that might be taken up through an analysis of propositions, is the living “image” of God given personally in Christ.
Dive analyzes texts and even phrases of Newman's with good philosophical, theological, and literary analysis. He draws out plural meanings and provides measured nuance. Indeed, he spends one and a half pages simply discussing Newman's interpretation of the statement that faith is “the evidence of things not seen” (48). This type of interpretation will satisfy the serious scholar but prove a barrier to general readers. Furthermore, at times, sections of chapters lack smooth, logical, and clear transitions, such that readers are left, at times, wondering why this particular subject is being treated in relation to the prior point. This is evident in chapter 2, “Conscience and ‘Love of the Beautiful,’” between sections one and two (82). Dive jumps into a discourse on poetry that seems much removed from the prior treatment of conscience. It would have been helpful to alert readers to the link among poetry, vision, imagination, and conscience more forcefully. Moreover, sometimes Dive employs block quotations excessively. Rather than have readers slog through one after another, he could have simply summarized or put material in footnotes. Some of these quotations are rich and rewarding to read, but fewer of them would have sped readers to the main points.
In sum, there is no question that the imagination is an important topic. Dive does well in showing how it connects to reason, faith, and the spiritual pursuit of holiness. Stricter editorial oversight would have served Dive better by cutting down excessive quotations and structuring chapters through meaningful subheadings. A better structure would have given readers a clearer approach to the rich fare found within this lengthy text. It is not clear, however, why such an extensive treatment of these related ideas, so focused on “knowing” and “willing,” is needed. Why now? What problem or issue warrants this extensive investigation?
