The historical sense compels us – canon and legacy

By Freya Grigson

What do you think of when I say the word ‘canon’? Personally (after I have realised I’m actually not meant to be thinking about an outdated weapon) my mind immediately jumps to this vast, abstract cloud of title pages, floating around in the higher echelons of cultural and literary studies.

Woolf, Dickens, Shakespeare, Homer, Austen, the Shelley’s, Melville, Joyce, Fitzgerald, and Voltaire, to name an incredibly small selection of who we might think of when considering the concept of the literary canon. There’s certainly one thing in common that the works these authors produced all share: they are objectively (yes, it is possible) exquisite pieces of literature.

The canon contributes to how we remember these authors, or, their legacies. It makes sense that this has come about historically, as humans have a natural inclination towards categorisation and groupings. This concept of a canon is a means by which we can preserve the legacies of these authors and their work.

Before exploring how the canon can shape our view of literary legacies, there has got to be some caveats. Notice anything about the list I gave earlier? The authors listed are predominantly white and male, originating in English-speaking countries. Clearly, the canon goes beyond this, especially in a university setting, but I’ve phrased it like this in order to demonstrate which demographics have largely represented ‘the canon’ throughout history.

Public and critical opinion therefore shape legacy, which is a by-product of this intangible ‘canon’

It has got to be said, the idea of a canon often limits our view of ‘good’ literature to elitist aesthetic values. This said, the English literary canon is made up mostly of texts which were either critically appreciated, radical (thereby rejecting the idea that a ‘canon’ is an inherently conservative notion), or texts which were very popular either at the time or posthumously to the author. This is a trend we see in our contemporary reading habits; one quick scroll on TikTok and it seems like everyone is reading the same 10 books. Is the canon really just popular texts? Or ones actually worth reading which have preserved the legacies of authors for hundreds, if not thousands, of years? I’d argue since there is not set list and the extent to which readers argue if a text is truly ‘canonical’ or not, then the idea of a canon itself becomes entirely redundant to the literary world.

So, for the sake of discussing literary legacy, I’m going to posit the idea that outside of its problematic ideological history, the canon is a means of preserving great art and providing a bridge between the past and the present. Public and critical opinion therefore shape legacy, which is a by-product of this intangible ‘canon’. We can acknowledge the privilege some authors received in their lifetime from their gender, race, or geographical luck, and still appreciate the shared literary foundations it gave modern culture.

It’s worth asking then, does it follow that literary legacies are misshaped by an author’s place in the canon? Arguably, the canon removes significant parts of writers’ individuality by clumping them into a list with other authors who have nothing to do with them. I mean, really. What does The Aeneid have to do with Notes from Underground? The only similarity Homer and Dostoevsky would share here is they’ve both published a beloved book considered of value to society in some respect.

It’s clearly a convoluted issue, the canon is both problematic and necessary, and authors’ legacies are tied up with the canon while simultaneously being misrepresented by it. It leaves me with many questions: does an anti-canonical worldview mean we reject the idea of things being remembered? Can we truly connect the past and present when ideologically and politically they seem so far apart?

The canon, as simultaneously flimsy and sturdy as it is

I’d argue yes. The canon, as simultaneously flimsy and sturdy as it is as a critical framework model, ultimately does help us understand authors’ contributions to the literary landscape, and help us connect the past and the present. While the canon, and its intersection with literary legacy no doubt needs refining to be more inclusive and realistic, it doesn’t ultimately stand to eradicate texts which have already been remembered for centuries. The canon, however you choose to understand it, can be useful: in an intellectual capacity it can teach us to include and adapt historical literary practices with our modern understanding of literature, helping us to be better critics and readers: a practice which certainly needs attention in 2026, or we won’t have many more literary legacies to explore.

Image Credit: John Butler Yeats (Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)