
John J. Miller brings the Great Books podcast to a close.
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John J. Miller
Foreign welcome to the Great Books Podcast. I'm your host, John J. Miller of National Review, and you're listening to a production of National Review. There's no guest today, it's just me. And this is a special episode of the Great Books Podcast because it's the final episode of the Great Books Podcast. So I'll begin with this brief announcement, which is that National Review has decided to discontinue the show. This is the last one, and while I plan to remain on the masthead of the magazine, I'm no longer a podcaster with it. There's a chance I'll try and revive the Great Books Podcast. I don't know when, I don't know where, but I'm going to take a little time to consider the possibilities if I revive it. I'll do my best to let you know, possibly through this channel, definitely on social media. And you can always check my personal website, heymiller.com where I have links and contact information and more. I'd now like to take a few minutes to reflect on the Great Books Podcast and offer a few final thoughts and thanks. We started it in 2017. Jack Fowler, the former publisher of National Review, said NR wanted to expand its podcasts. Did I have any ideas? I came up with this one, a weekly interview driven show of about 30 minutes with scholars discussing discussing the books they love. I went on to record 370 of them. The first was Macbeth by Shakespeare and the last was the Sorrows of Young Werther by Goethe. In between I covered a lot Animal Farm in 1984 by George Orwell. I think I did five of the six major novels by Jane Austen, did Lord of the Rings and three shows did seven shows on the seven books in the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. lewis. Every hundredth episode I devoted to a book by William F. Buckley Jr. The founder of National Review, as a way to acknowledge the debt we all owe to him. So I did shows on three of his books, God and Man at the Unmaking of a Mare and Cruising Speed. If we'd gotten to a 400th episode, I was thinking about covering one of his Blackford Oaks spy novels, probably the first one, God Save the Queen. But alas, we didn't make it that far. I never repeated a topic, with a couple of exceptions. Moby Dick was a two parter with the same guest. I also did a pair of shows on the Iliad back to back with different guests. I figured that the great American novel and the greatest of the great books deserved more than 30 minutes apiece. I never got to Hamlet. I liked the idea that it was always out there, the greatest work by the greatest writer in the English language. It meant that I always had at least one more show to do. When I started the podcast nearly eight years ago, I wondered if it would have an expiration date. There are a lot of books that we might call great books, but they aren't limitless. At some point you finish, or at least you do what I've done on a number of occasions, and you let the Great Books podcast become the Very Good Books Podcast. And these have been some of my favorite shows on topics such as Charlotte's Web and Watership down and Casino Royale, which is the first James Bond novel. Yet Hamlet was always out there waiting, maybe forever. We'll see about that. Other books I didn't get to include War and Peace, which sounds like it should be a maybe a two parter. I did a couple of shows on Plato, but not on the Republic. I didn't record on Goethe's Faust or Thomas Moore's Utopia. I also never got to Robert e. Howard, the 1930s pulp writer who invented the barbarian character Conan. His stories were some of my boyhood favorites, and it saddens me to leave that one on the table. People sometimes ask me if I've read all the books we've discussed on the show. The answer is no, of course not. I wish I've read a lot of them. I was blessed with a pretty good education, with teachers in grade school and high school who chose the right texts and taught them well. My 12th grade English teacher, Mrs. Timoney, opened my eyes to Shakespeare. She had us read Macbeth, Othello and King Lear, which she regarded as Shakespeare's masterpiece. She didn't teach us Hamlet, though. I didn't read that until college at the University of Michigan, where I was an English major and took a course on Shakespeare. That's when I finally learned about the Prince of Denmark and his friends. College was where I had my first big encounter with the great books because as a freshman I took a course called Great Books across two semesters. It was a crash course or two crash courses and on the best that had been thought and said in the west, starting with the Iliad, continuing with the Odyssey and then moving through the other Greeks, touching on the Romans and culminating with Dante and the Divine Comedy and the Decameron at at the cusp of the Renaissance. That gave me an excellent foundation that has served me well ever since Then. As an English major, I got more beowulf the Canterbury Tales, Frankenstein, Bleak House, Middlemarch, and more. I did shows on all of these, and it was a pleasure to go back and review and remember. I wrote my senior thesis on Anne Radcliffe, the English Gothic novelist. I never did a show on her. She was popular and influential, especially in her day, but had trouble finding a guest in ours. Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey is in part a satire of Ann Radcliffe's novels, and once when I was preparing to record on Northanger Abbey, I knew it was time to study that novel, to spend some time with it, break it down, read summaries, figure out its big themes and questions. In other words, do the sort of thing I would do to prepare for a show about a book that I had not read. I knew I owned an old paperback of Northanger Abbey, so I pulled it off the shelf and started to flip through it and discovered to my surprise and delight, that I had in fact read it because I had marked up the pages long ago. Then it all came flooding back to me. But that was a unique experience. Usually if I read a book, I know that I've read it and just need to refresh my memory for the others. I studied them enough to ask questions of scholars who are passionate about the books we discussed. The guests were a key to the show. A lot of podcasts are really about the host. The host is the star, and. And that's fine. But I wanted this show to be about the guests and to give them the chance to speak in paragraphs about their favorite great books. I've had a lot of great guests on the Great Books podcast. I couldn't have done this show without them. They gave their time, they gave it freely, and they gave it to us because they love to talk about the books they love. If you were one of them. Thank you. This show could not have existed without your generosity and passion and eloquence. While we're on the subject of thanks, I want to thank a few other people who made the Great Books podcast possible. Jack Fowler, the former publisher of National Review, invited me to come up with the idea for the show. I've recorded every episode at wrfh, the campus radio station of Hillsdale College. We call it Radio Free Hillsdale. So Hillsdale College deserves thanks for its support, and especially my Hillsdale colleague Scott Bertram, who runs the radio station and often has worked as a kind of uncredited producer of the show, helping me with sound checks, teaching me how to edit, answering technical questions, and more. He's an amazing colleague and an excellent podcaster, and I encourage you to check out Political Beats, his show for National Review, as well as the Radio Free Hillsdale Hour, his weekly show for Hillsdale College. I also want to thank Charlie Cook, who oversees a lot of National Reviews podcasts, and give a special thanks to Sarah Schutte, my former student at Hillsdale College and longtime podcast editor at National Review. One of the joys of my day job at Hillsdale College, where I run the Dow Journalism program, is that I get to watch young people grow up. Boys become men, girls become women, then they move into the professional world, and sometimes I get to work with them there. A few have edited my writing for National Review and the Wall Street Journal. Sarah is one of these, and this show owes a lot to her. So I give a big thanks to all of these colleagues and friends. And last of all, I'd like to give a special thanks to all of you for listening. Shows need listeners, and this one would not have continued for 370 episodes but for loyal listeners like you. So thank you for your attention, your feedback, and for sticking with me and the Great Books Podcast for so long. I invite you to keep up with my work on my personal website, heymiller.com, which also provides my contact information on X or Twitter. My handle is Eymiller. I've written several books, and one of them in particular touches on the themes of the show, with short essays on everything from the Epic of Gilgamesh to Nathaniel Hawthorne to H.P. lovecraft. It's called Reading Journalism on Authors, Artists and Ideas, and you can buy it on Amazon. But any rate, thank you so much for listening. We've now reached the point of the show where I usually say that we'll be back next week, the new episode of the Great Books Podcast. I can't say that this time because there won't be a show next week or the week after that. We'll see what comes next. But for now, this is the end, so I'll sign off by turning to Hamlet, the work that I never quite got around to covering. On this podcast, I'll just quote the title character at the end of the play, as he's dying, Hamlet utters a final line, which I give to you now. The rest is silence.
Podcast Information:
In the poignant final episode of The Great Books podcast, John J. Miller delivers a heartfelt announcement confirming that this will be the series' last installment. Miller states, “National Review has decided to discontinue the show. This is the last one” (00:00). He shares his future plans, expressing uncertainty but hope for a potential revival of the podcast, indicating he will keep listeners informed via his personal website and social media.
Miller reflects on the podcast’s inception and growth since its launch in 2017. He credits Jack Fowler, the former publisher of National Review, for the show’s creation, emphasizing the podcast's mission: “a weekly interview-driven show of about 30 minutes with scholars discussing the books they love” (00:00). Over eight years, Miller hosted 370 episodes, beginning with Shakespeare’s Macbeth and concluding with Goethe’s The Sorrows of Young Werther.
Miller highlights some of the significant works and authors featured:
He mentions plans for a four-hundredth episode on Buckley’s God Save the Queen spy novel series, which unfortunately never materialized.
Miller took care to avoid repetition, with only a few exceptions such as the two-part episode on Moby Dick and consecutive shows on The Iliad with different guests. He believed that monumental works, often referred to as “the greatest of the great books,” warranted extended exploration beyond the standard 30-minute format.
Despite extensive coverage, some classics remained untouched:
Miller shares his deep personal connection to the great books, shaped by his educational journey. He recounts how his 12th-grade English teacher introduced him to Shakespeare’s Macbeth, Othello, and King Lear, but not Hamlet. It wasn’t until college at the University of Michigan, where he majored in English and took a comprehensive Great Books course, that he delved into Hamlet and other seminal works like the Iliad, Odyssey, Dante’s Divine Comedy, and more.
He acknowledges that his senior thesis focused on Anne Radcliffe, an influential English Gothic novelist, though he never had the opportunity to feature her on the podcast. An anecdote about rediscovering his old marked copy of Northanger Abbey illustrates his enduring relationship with the literature he explored on the show.
Central to the podcast’s success were its guests—scholars who brought passion and expertise to discussions. Miller emphasizes, “I wanted this show to be about the guests and to give them the chance to speak in paragraphs about their favorite great books” (00:00). He expresses immense gratitude for their contributions, asserting that the podcast “could not have existed without your generosity and passion and eloquence.”
Miller extends his thanks to several key individuals and institutions that enabled the podcast’s longevity:
In his closing remarks, Miller thanks the listeners for their unwavering support, stating, “Shows need listeners, and this one would not have continued for 370 episodes but for loyal listeners like you” (00:00). He invites the audience to stay connected through his personal website and social media, promoting his book, Reading Journalism on Authors, Artists and Ideas, which aligns with the podcast’s themes.
Miller concludes with a literary nod to the one work he never covered—Hamlet. He recites the play’s final line, “The rest is silence,” symbolizing the end of the podcast and leaving listeners with a classic farewell.
Announcement of Farewell:
“National Review has decided to discontinue the show. This is the last one” (00:00).
On Hosting Philosophy:
“I wanted this show to be about the guests and to give them the chance to speak in paragraphs about their favorite great books” (00:00).
Acknowledging Guests:
“This show could not have existed without your generosity and passion and eloquence” (00:00).
Final Literary Tribute:
“The rest is silence” (00:00).
Episode 371 of The Great Books podcast serves as a heartfelt farewell from John J. Miller, encapsulating the show's dedication to exploring and celebrating Western literary classics. Through personal reflections, acknowledgments, and a tribute to the enduring power of great literature, Miller provides a fitting conclusion to a nearly eight-year journey of intellectual discourse and scholarly engagement.