While I found Helene Cixous' writing to be both compelling and beautiful, I have to disagree with her overall argument. My largest problem resides with her introduction to the entire essay.
"Woman must write herself: must write about women and bring women to writing, from which they have been driven away as violently as from their bodies...Woman must put herself into the text--as into the world and into history--by her own movement."
It is my personal opinion that this very statement is deconstructive and contradictory. The language used by Cixous undermines her very objective. To say that a woman must do anything is to place her in fetters yet again. Yes, if a woman were to write about women she would certainly "bring women to writing," however, I feel that no woman should be forced to do anything. Also, if all women are supposed to put themselves into the texts, this will only set them further apart in the world of writing, "from which they have been driven away as violently as from their bodies." for a woman to make herself not only a writer, but rather a "woman writer" is to simply make another category. A writer who strives only to be a "woman writer" will only make it as far as the outskirts of the literary world. A woman should not have to hide her womanhood in order to become a great and acknowledged writer, nor should she have to flaunt it.
I could not really tell if Cixous was calling for equality or not and this is what I struggled with during my reading of her essay. If her call was in fact, one for equality, then I think she may perhaps have missed her mark. To differentiate women writers from the rest of the writing world is to place them in a box, set them apart, almost negate their very existence. Perhaps my feelings about this are too strong, though I cannot help but wonder why on earth a woman would strive to be defined by her gender. Shouldn't the ultimate goal be indifference to gender and for that matter ethnicity. It can or can't matter. I am simply arguing that it is unfair to assert that it should matter.
A woman is a woman, but a writer, well, should we define writer by gender conventions? Perhaps this is a situational concern, but I feel a pull to say no.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Androgyny
While I find Virginia Woolf's conjectures about the androgyny of the mind and creativity to be very fascinating, I am not quite so sure that I buy into them. It seems strange to think of the mind as purely masculine or purely feminine, considering the mind is rarely looked at as gender specific. What is even more fascinating though, is how Woolf asserts that perhaps the wholly masculine mind cannot create, and so likewise the wholly feminine mind cannot create. It is only with a fusion of the two that creation can occur.
Lately in Romantic Literature we have been discussing the concept of thesis, antithesis and synthesis. All of which ultimately unite to form a new thesis and the process begins anew. In the case of Woolf I can see that the masculine mind is the thesis, the feminine mind the antithesis and the androgynous mind is the synthesis of the two. Through the androgynous mind the dichotomy of the thesis and antithesis is resolved.
When Woolf begins her discussion of her delight at reading Mr. A's reading I began to have more questions immediately. Is a man's writing truly more direct and straightforward than the writing of women? This started me thinking about everything I had ever read, wracking my brain trying to disprove her point. There are two male author's in particular who come to mind in this case. Oscar Wilde and Nathaniel Hawthorne. Both men, but neither one very direct and straightforward. Hawthorne uses superfluous language that borders on tiresome, and Wilde's exquisite attention to detail is a marked quality of his authorship. These are male authors who thrive on details, on extras, on beauty. There are certainly elements of direct and straightforwardness in both author's work, but I highly doubt that any reader, when asked to come up with direct and straightforward writers, would come up with Wilde and Hawthorne. Likewise, on the opposite end of the spectrum, George Eliot, though the pseudonym may be slightly misleading, is a woman writer with a knack for the straightforward and direct. Her prose often nears the realm of biting and trite. Her social commentary in Middlemarch could not be more clear or direct. The only problem with this argument resides in norms. By this I simply mean that these three authors lie somewhat on the outskirts. They are absolutely individuals, and so perhaps it is not fair to judge them in comparison to other authors. Perhaps these three authors are simply deviants rather than a part of the norm. We can never really know though, so Woolf's question remains alive and well.
Lately in Romantic Literature we have been discussing the concept of thesis, antithesis and synthesis. All of which ultimately unite to form a new thesis and the process begins anew. In the case of Woolf I can see that the masculine mind is the thesis, the feminine mind the antithesis and the androgynous mind is the synthesis of the two. Through the androgynous mind the dichotomy of the thesis and antithesis is resolved.
When Woolf begins her discussion of her delight at reading Mr. A's reading I began to have more questions immediately. Is a man's writing truly more direct and straightforward than the writing of women? This started me thinking about everything I had ever read, wracking my brain trying to disprove her point. There are two male author's in particular who come to mind in this case. Oscar Wilde and Nathaniel Hawthorne. Both men, but neither one very direct and straightforward. Hawthorne uses superfluous language that borders on tiresome, and Wilde's exquisite attention to detail is a marked quality of his authorship. These are male authors who thrive on details, on extras, on beauty. There are certainly elements of direct and straightforwardness in both author's work, but I highly doubt that any reader, when asked to come up with direct and straightforward writers, would come up with Wilde and Hawthorne. Likewise, on the opposite end of the spectrum, George Eliot, though the pseudonym may be slightly misleading, is a woman writer with a knack for the straightforward and direct. Her prose often nears the realm of biting and trite. Her social commentary in Middlemarch could not be more clear or direct. The only problem with this argument resides in norms. By this I simply mean that these three authors lie somewhat on the outskirts. They are absolutely individuals, and so perhaps it is not fair to judge them in comparison to other authors. Perhaps these three authors are simply deviants rather than a part of the norm. We can never really know though, so Woolf's question remains alive and well.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Literary Criticism as a Microcosm
Throughout the course of this class, as I have been blogging and thinking about all of our readings I cannot help but notice a general trend. Literary criticism seems to closely parallel many of the larger concerns and questions in the world today. So far I have observed connections with social hierarchies, psychology, capitalism, questions of life and death etc. Some people might scoff at the study of literature, but it is become more and more apparent every day just how relevant this type of criticism is. It goes far beyond books and text and into the world itself.
Oh Mann!
"Ohmann shows that aesthetic judgements are inflected by capitalist criteria" (1878). This idea is insane to me. It rings absolutely true, but I wish that were not the case. What we find beautiful in a book has more to do with what sells than what is actually quality writing. Capitalism, while it is very much a part of our everyday life, should not affect our appreciation of literary beauty. It is extremely sad to realize that Ohmann is correct in saying that advertising is important to the shaping of the canon. Perhaps I am too much of an idealist, but I like to think of the canon as some pure thing untouched by human vices. I see it similarly to how I view the Bible (although there are obvious differences here). I don't like to think that capitalism and advertising are at the root of our great works of literature. The literature should speak for itself. It's beauty and greatness should be self-evident rather than man-made. This is just my little rant for the day.
On a completely separate note I was struck by the section in Ohmann's essay, "The Shaping of a Canon: U.S. fiction, 1960-1975" that discussed liking works of literature. He asserts that "it doesn't matter that Norman Podhoretz hates Updike novels, so long as he takes them seriously enough to argue with his peers about them" (1887). This is interesting to me because it indicates that the canon has more to do with discussion and popularity than likeability. It matters more how much a text is talked about than how much readers like it. I am not sure how much I agree with this statement. I am sure that the worst book of all time would get talked about a great deal, but would such popularity reserve it's place in the canon? I should hope not.
Originally, I had never really taken the time to look at literature from a perspective of class structure. After reading Ohmann though, I have come to the conclusion that class does play a role in the construction of the canon. All of this discussion regarding the canon and its subjectivity has got me rather frustrated. Is there any such thing as a purely good work of literature?
Monday, April 14, 2008
Speech Act Theory
While reading the introduction to Richard Ohmann's essay I was struck by the fact that he was "one of the first American scholars to introduce speech act theory" (1877). I decided to look this up on the Internet to find out what it was all about. I'm not quite sure why it caught my attention, other than the fact that I had never before heard of it.
I came across a website that was a chapter out of someones dissertation. The site was entitled Rhetorica. Here is the link: http://www.rhetorica.net/speech.htm.
According to this website, speech-act theory was proposed by J.L. Austin. In the simplest terms this theory states that "to say something is to do something." Austin breaks this down into two categories: performative and constantive. An example of a performative speech act would be a wedding, during which the priest says "I now pronounce you man and wife." According to the essay this proposition creates a social reality, and thus the speech is achieving something beyond itself. Constantives are statements that can be judged as true or false and attempt to "describe reality.
I think (if I am grasping the concept speech-act theory correctly) that even the "simplest statement" has much large implications. One cannot simply look at a sentence, but must instead look at it's many layers to find the action it elicits.
I think that the reason Ohmann might have been a proponent of the speech-act theory could be its ties to studying words and sentences within a social context. This clearly has connections to Marxism the the stress it places on society and cultural relevance.
I came across a website that was a chapter out of someones dissertation. The site was entitled Rhetorica. Here is the link: http://www.rhetorica.net/speech.htm.
According to this website, speech-act theory was proposed by J.L. Austin. In the simplest terms this theory states that "to say something is to do something." Austin breaks this down into two categories: performative and constantive. An example of a performative speech act would be a wedding, during which the priest says "I now pronounce you man and wife." According to the essay this proposition creates a social reality, and thus the speech is achieving something beyond itself. Constantives are statements that can be judged as true or false and attempt to "describe reality.
I think (if I am grasping the concept speech-act theory correctly) that even the "simplest statement" has much large implications. One cannot simply look at a sentence, but must instead look at it's many layers to find the action it elicits.
I think that the reason Ohmann might have been a proponent of the speech-act theory could be its ties to studying words and sentences within a social context. This clearly has connections to Marxism the the stress it places on society and cultural relevance.
Storytelling and Death
When reading Benjamin's essay I was fascinated by the section about death and storytelling. I had never before thought about the connections between storytelling and the general consciousness about death. It is very true in today's society that people have made it possible "to avoid the sight of dying" (6). Death is a subject that is almost taboo in American culture. It had never occurred to me that our fear and inability to cope with death could stem from our lack of discussion and storytelling.
Here is a practical application of literature (spoken literature). Why should we read? Why tell stories? Instead of hiding death we should learn to cope by talking about it. This is where I think the Marxist aspect of Benjamin's essay really begins to shine through. Death should be imbued in culture, it should be talked about. Discussion of death is much healthier than avoiding the sight of it altogether.
I think too that talking about things and telling stories is a very human way of working through life's problems and mysteries. It is our attempt at explaining the unexplainable. When we stop discussing death, and stop bequeathing our knowledge from generation to generation then death becomes a mystery one more. Something more feared than revered.
This again brings to light our culture's current fascination with solitude. Death is too big of a mystery to tackle alone. It is one of those fundamental ties between all of humanity, and we should treat it as such. A powerful combining factor rather than something to be hush-hushed. The unknown is always scarier than the known.
Storytelling may seem obsolete in this day and age, but this small section of Benjamin's essay proves this wrong. In certain areas of culture a novel simply will not suffice. Human interaction has its benefits. We were not made to be solitary creatures who sit and read alone, reveling in our individual experience. Some things are collective, such as death, and they can only be truly dissected in a collective manner such a storytelling.
Here is a practical application of literature (spoken literature). Why should we read? Why tell stories? Instead of hiding death we should learn to cope by talking about it. This is where I think the Marxist aspect of Benjamin's essay really begins to shine through. Death should be imbued in culture, it should be talked about. Discussion of death is much healthier than avoiding the sight of it altogether.
I think too that talking about things and telling stories is a very human way of working through life's problems and mysteries. It is our attempt at explaining the unexplainable. When we stop discussing death, and stop bequeathing our knowledge from generation to generation then death becomes a mystery one more. Something more feared than revered.
This again brings to light our culture's current fascination with solitude. Death is too big of a mystery to tackle alone. It is one of those fundamental ties between all of humanity, and we should treat it as such. A powerful combining factor rather than something to be hush-hushed. The unknown is always scarier than the known.
Storytelling may seem obsolete in this day and age, but this small section of Benjamin's essay proves this wrong. In certain areas of culture a novel simply will not suffice. Human interaction has its benefits. We were not made to be solitary creatures who sit and read alone, reveling in our individual experience. Some things are collective, such as death, and they can only be truly dissected in a collective manner such a storytelling.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
The Ipod Generation
There is no better testament to Benjamin's Storyteller than today's society. Personal interactions have been minimized more than ever before. Emails, IMs, text messages take the place of interpersonal communication. Even in everyday life, walking from point a to point b, so many of us pop in our Ipod headphones and zone out. We distance ourselves from the world around us, discouraging any type of communication. Ear buds give the signal, "stay away" and indicate the intent not to talk at a particular moment. It's no wonder that art forms such as storytelling are slowly dying out. There is too much hustle and bustle, too much impersonality to afford time for such an activity.
Benjamin seems to argue that the novel has begun to take the place of storytelling. While this may be true, I think that a number of other things have contributed to the demise of storytelling. In our rushed world, there is really no time set aside for listening to the stories of experience or legend. We schedule no times into our days for that. However, there is something to be said for the communication of this day and age. It is efficient and it is accessible. The way we communicate may be different, but it is communication nonetheless.
There is a wealth to be had in storytelling though. There is a richness in a story that has been carefully handed down from one generation to the next. When someone relates a story to an audience they add so much to it that a text alone could not deliver. With oral delivery comes inflection, emotion, explanation, and group response. In this respect, storytelling is akin to theater. It is active, living literature.
Currently, even the novel seems to be an art form that has slowly begun to die out. Children display a decreased interest in reading. The high tech world of video game entertainment is much more thrilling and captivating. Slowly but surely, it seems as though the novel has fallen to the wayside. I cannot help thinking that storytelling could be the answer to this dilemma. Storytelling breathes live to a story. for example, stories told by the fireside at night are always spookier and morbidly fascinating. Perhaps the way to get youth back into stories, is to tell them aloud. Novels can seem very flat and limp in comparison to many things in this world today. It seems that we should try a little harder to keep storytelling alive not only for the sake of storytelling, but for the sake of literature in all forms.
We were talking in class about the misrepresentation of the lower classes that would and has resulted from the decline of storytelling. Who will tell the stories of the lower classes if they are not spread by word of mouth. Who writes novels, gets them published, reads and discusses them? The middle and upper classes. The decline of storytelling could also result in a silencing of the lower class. It could contribute even more to the oppression felt by these individuals.
Benjamin seems to argue that the novel has begun to take the place of storytelling. While this may be true, I think that a number of other things have contributed to the demise of storytelling. In our rushed world, there is really no time set aside for listening to the stories of experience or legend. We schedule no times into our days for that. However, there is something to be said for the communication of this day and age. It is efficient and it is accessible. The way we communicate may be different, but it is communication nonetheless.
There is a wealth to be had in storytelling though. There is a richness in a story that has been carefully handed down from one generation to the next. When someone relates a story to an audience they add so much to it that a text alone could not deliver. With oral delivery comes inflection, emotion, explanation, and group response. In this respect, storytelling is akin to theater. It is active, living literature.
Currently, even the novel seems to be an art form that has slowly begun to die out. Children display a decreased interest in reading. The high tech world of video game entertainment is much more thrilling and captivating. Slowly but surely, it seems as though the novel has fallen to the wayside. I cannot help thinking that storytelling could be the answer to this dilemma. Storytelling breathes live to a story. for example, stories told by the fireside at night are always spookier and morbidly fascinating. Perhaps the way to get youth back into stories, is to tell them aloud. Novels can seem very flat and limp in comparison to many things in this world today. It seems that we should try a little harder to keep storytelling alive not only for the sake of storytelling, but for the sake of literature in all forms.
We were talking in class about the misrepresentation of the lower classes that would and has resulted from the decline of storytelling. Who will tell the stories of the lower classes if they are not spread by word of mouth. Who writes novels, gets them published, reads and discusses them? The middle and upper classes. The decline of storytelling could also result in a silencing of the lower class. It could contribute even more to the oppression felt by these individuals.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
More thoughts on Personal Economy
I was thinking today about just how "personal" a personal economy really is. Is it ever possible for two people to share the exact same personal economy? Or can two people's economies eventually converge when their experiences begin to overlap?
If two twins are raised together with the exact same conditions, and they spend the entirety of their lives together and share the same experiences, then would their personal economies be the same? Or does personal economy have something to do with personality as well?
I feel as though Herrnstein Smith's arguments regarding literature, could easily carry over into the psychology field. It seems to me that Herrnstein Smith is correct in her assumptions about personal economy though, in the sense that one can learn to like certain works of art. Many school children detest "the great" authors such as Shakespeare, but learn to like them as they grow older. Their experiences shape the value they assign to the text itself. A lot of this rests on the shoulders of society, however. If one does not share an apreciation for the works of Shakespeare then one is considered uncouth and uncultured in some way. Ideas about value hinge on social stature. One can really only climb the social ladder if and only if they appreciate the right wine, music, art, books etc. So do we really like the art, or the benefits it affords us?
On another note, there was something in her essay that confused me. I don't understand why, if our "purposes are continuously transformed and redirected" (1915), we have classic works of art. If our ideas about value are fluid things, and values is not, in fact, inherent, then why don't our ideas about the most "valuable" works of art change as well? As our personal economies change, so should our standards for what makes art valuable.
If two twins are raised together with the exact same conditions, and they spend the entirety of their lives together and share the same experiences, then would their personal economies be the same? Or does personal economy have something to do with personality as well?
I feel as though Herrnstein Smith's arguments regarding literature, could easily carry over into the psychology field. It seems to me that Herrnstein Smith is correct in her assumptions about personal economy though, in the sense that one can learn to like certain works of art. Many school children detest "the great" authors such as Shakespeare, but learn to like them as they grow older. Their experiences shape the value they assign to the text itself. A lot of this rests on the shoulders of society, however. If one does not share an apreciation for the works of Shakespeare then one is considered uncouth and uncultured in some way. Ideas about value hinge on social stature. One can really only climb the social ladder if and only if they appreciate the right wine, music, art, books etc. So do we really like the art, or the benefits it affords us?
On another note, there was something in her essay that confused me. I don't understand why, if our "purposes are continuously transformed and redirected" (1915), we have classic works of art. If our ideas about value are fluid things, and values is not, in fact, inherent, then why don't our ideas about the most "valuable" works of art change as well? As our personal economies change, so should our standards for what makes art valuable.
Personal Economy
How high society aesthetes must detest Barbara Herrnstein Smith. To propose that art has no inherent value seems to be a type of heresy in such circles. Herrnstein Smith proposes that "all definitions of art and all evaluations of specific "artworks" depend on a complex set of changing variables" (1910).
I believe that Hernnsetin Smith's argument resides within the confines of a larger argument. Questions of cultural relevance seem important here. How much are we affected by our culture? Does our culture make us who we are? It all comes back to the all important (and elusive) question of Nature vs. Nurture.
To say that there is an intrinsic value to art simultaneously seems like commonsense and silliness. Don't we all appreciate the works of Da Vinci, or Michelangelo, or Van Gogh? If our appreciation of art is not intrinsic then why are there "classic" works of art?
It seems to me that Herrnstein Smith argues for the "Nurture" side of things. We are conditioned by our surroundings and this builds our "personal economy" (1914). Our experiences with the world and with our culture shape who we are and what value we assign to things. We are told that Michelangelo and Da Vinci are the greats. from the get-go we are taught to assume that their art is some of the best. No child would go to a museum pick out a painting by either artist and assert that it had the most value of all the art in the museum. Though we like to think that we are autonomous, we are clearly possessed by our own personal economies.
This is where things get dicey. In terms of the canon (of great works of literature) we tend to assume that writers like Shakespeare are and have always been the greatest. But why? Here is where I think we are in danger of being blinded to just how much culture shapes our way of thinking. We have been taught to read Shakespeare's works through the lens of greatness. And how else can you view something then? It must be great. This almost seems to hinder the literary world though. Because everything must be weighed and measure against the greats. If a work has no echoes of Shakespeare or his greatness, then its value is diminished slightly. Our personal economies eat away somewhat at the value to be placed in individuality and creativity. One cannot deviate too much, for fear of alienating oneself from the canon.
So then , is there any way to set aside one's personal economy just long enough to objectively look at a new work?
I believe that Hernnsetin Smith's argument resides within the confines of a larger argument. Questions of cultural relevance seem important here. How much are we affected by our culture? Does our culture make us who we are? It all comes back to the all important (and elusive) question of Nature vs. Nurture.
To say that there is an intrinsic value to art simultaneously seems like commonsense and silliness. Don't we all appreciate the works of Da Vinci, or Michelangelo, or Van Gogh? If our appreciation of art is not intrinsic then why are there "classic" works of art?
It seems to me that Herrnstein Smith argues for the "Nurture" side of things. We are conditioned by our surroundings and this builds our "personal economy" (1914). Our experiences with the world and with our culture shape who we are and what value we assign to things. We are told that Michelangelo and Da Vinci are the greats. from the get-go we are taught to assume that their art is some of the best. No child would go to a museum pick out a painting by either artist and assert that it had the most value of all the art in the museum. Though we like to think that we are autonomous, we are clearly possessed by our own personal economies.
This is where things get dicey. In terms of the canon (of great works of literature) we tend to assume that writers like Shakespeare are and have always been the greatest. But why? Here is where I think we are in danger of being blinded to just how much culture shapes our way of thinking. We have been taught to read Shakespeare's works through the lens of greatness. And how else can you view something then? It must be great. This almost seems to hinder the literary world though. Because everything must be weighed and measure against the greats. If a work has no echoes of Shakespeare or his greatness, then its value is diminished slightly. Our personal economies eat away somewhat at the value to be placed in individuality and creativity. One cannot deviate too much, for fear of alienating oneself from the canon.
So then , is there any way to set aside one's personal economy just long enough to objectively look at a new work?
Thursday, April 10, 2008
from work to text
http://www.brocku.ca/english/courses/4F70/lisa_smith.barthes.html
After discussing Roland Barthes' essay "from work to text" in class I was inclined to look up more information regarding this subject. To be honest, I was hoping to come across something more explanatory in order to help me better understand Barthes' essay. However, i came across something much more interesting. There is an essay online by a writer named Lisa Smith. She is a member of the English Department at Brock University and her her essay was entitled "from Work to Text?"
Smith begins her essay by attempting to explain the distinctions Barthes makes between "work" and "text." She admits that the main purpose of her essay is to "explore how Barthes delineates a methodology of reading." for the purposes of introduction, Smith then proposes to look at Barthes' own essay as a work and as a text. This is the part of her essay that caught my attention. What better way to attempt to understand Barthes meaning of work vs. text than to apply it to his own essay. Here is an excerpt:
"In this context, it would be interesting to look at Barthes' own essay as a work and as a text. In many ways, Barthes signals his own separation from the "Newtonian" texts that claim to be works (Barthes 192). In other ways, however, the philosophy of the work inevitably permeates his own claims to avoid its dictates. As a work, as an entity which is separable from the discourse surrounding it, Barthes can claim that his essay is in conformation with the view of the text. Paradoxically, when viewed as a text, this separation from those texts which claim to be works is not achieved.
If I were analyzing Barthes' essay from the point of view of the theory of the work, I would accept his authorial claims to place "text" at the critical centre of attention and to throw the concept of "work" onto the periphery. At the beginning and at the end of his essay, Barthes clearly indicates his intention to separate his own critical formulations from critical formulations of the work. Since meta-language employs logic in order to set its own string of signifiers apart from the text, he will avoid doing so. He sets up the "arguments" and the "logic" which others employ in opposition to his "propositions" which are to be "understood more in a grammatical than in a logical sense" (Barthes 192). During the course of the work, he attempts to maintain the distance between the binary opposition of "work" and "text" by defining each term in contrast to its Other. At the end of his essay, he again insists that his "few propositions . . . inevitably" fail to form a meta-language which would dictate how a text should be read (Barthes 197).
In other ways, however, the essay belongs to the textual world consisting of texts conceived as works. For instance, though he claims to avoid formulating a Theory of the Text, he cannot in fact escape the need to understand language through theorizing. Though he signals his aversion to logical constructs by attempting to assert rather than attempting to explain what constitutes a work and what constitutes a text, he cannot do so without operating according to the dictates of a meta-language. "
To the best of my understanding I think that what Smith is saying is undermining what Barthes was trying to do in his essay. Essentially, because it is difficult to compartmentalize Barthes' essay into either a work or a text his own theories about the two fall flat. The distinctions between the two seem almost abstract and cannot be applicable even to his own essay. Yes, there are elements of both in his writing, but when it comes to choosing the one that best fits his essay, one runs into some difficulty.
This is where Barthes' essay confuses me. I absolutely understand the distinctions he is making between the work and the text. We outlined them in class, and they are very logical distinctions. The problem however, arises when the attempt is made to apply these distinctions to a sample of writing. It is not so cut and dried then.
After discussing Roland Barthes' essay "from work to text" in class I was inclined to look up more information regarding this subject. To be honest, I was hoping to come across something more explanatory in order to help me better understand Barthes' essay. However, i came across something much more interesting. There is an essay online by a writer named Lisa Smith. She is a member of the English Department at Brock University and her her essay was entitled "from Work to Text?"
Smith begins her essay by attempting to explain the distinctions Barthes makes between "work" and "text." She admits that the main purpose of her essay is to "explore how Barthes delineates a methodology of reading." for the purposes of introduction, Smith then proposes to look at Barthes' own essay as a work and as a text. This is the part of her essay that caught my attention. What better way to attempt to understand Barthes meaning of work vs. text than to apply it to his own essay. Here is an excerpt:
"In this context, it would be interesting to look at Barthes' own essay as a work and as a text. In many ways, Barthes signals his own separation from the "Newtonian" texts that claim to be works (Barthes 192). In other ways, however, the philosophy of the work inevitably permeates his own claims to avoid its dictates. As a work, as an entity which is separable from the discourse surrounding it, Barthes can claim that his essay is in conformation with the view of the text. Paradoxically, when viewed as a text, this separation from those texts which claim to be works is not achieved.
If I were analyzing Barthes' essay from the point of view of the theory of the work, I would accept his authorial claims to place "text" at the critical centre of attention and to throw the concept of "work" onto the periphery. At the beginning and at the end of his essay, Barthes clearly indicates his intention to separate his own critical formulations from critical formulations of the work. Since meta-language employs logic in order to set its own string of signifiers apart from the text, he will avoid doing so. He sets up the "arguments" and the "logic" which others employ in opposition to his "propositions" which are to be "understood more in a grammatical than in a logical sense" (Barthes 192). During the course of the work, he attempts to maintain the distance between the binary opposition of "work" and "text" by defining each term in contrast to its Other. At the end of his essay, he again insists that his "few propositions . . . inevitably" fail to form a meta-language which would dictate how a text should be read (Barthes 197).
In other ways, however, the essay belongs to the textual world consisting of texts conceived as works. For instance, though he claims to avoid formulating a Theory of the Text, he cannot in fact escape the need to understand language through theorizing. Though he signals his aversion to logical constructs by attempting to assert rather than attempting to explain what constitutes a work and what constitutes a text, he cannot do so without operating according to the dictates of a meta-language. "
To the best of my understanding I think that what Smith is saying is undermining what Barthes was trying to do in his essay. Essentially, because it is difficult to compartmentalize Barthes' essay into either a work or a text his own theories about the two fall flat. The distinctions between the two seem almost abstract and cannot be applicable even to his own essay. Yes, there are elements of both in his writing, but when it comes to choosing the one that best fits his essay, one runs into some difficulty.
This is where Barthes' essay confuses me. I absolutely understand the distinctions he is making between the work and the text. We outlined them in class, and they are very logical distinctions. The problem however, arises when the attempt is made to apply these distinctions to a sample of writing. It is not so cut and dried then.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Organizers and Anchors
Reading Foucault was like a breath of fresh air in terms of discussion about "the author." I feel as though he outlined the role of the author in a much more realistic way that the previous critics we have read. Perhaps this is simply because he actually acknowledges the author as opposed to trying to "kill" him. The depiction of the author as both an organizer and an anchor seems to b very accurate and astute.
The author most definitely affords organization. It seems to be one of the most basic ways through which we can group texts. In the introduction to Foucault there was a comment that stating " we ascribe a certain unity and coherence to all the works written by a single author, or at least we feel that an author's drastic changes in style or opinion must be explained" (1616-17). I feel that this is extremely true today. I think that the author is slowly evolving into something of tantamount importance to the work itself. for example, in the case of the Harry Potter books, there is an enormous obsession with the author J.K. Rowling. On a more generic level, when fans today become obsessed with a certain series, or a certain group of books by one author, the next logical step seems to be book signings or fan web pages, or even blogs. Many authors now have their very own blogs to keep fans updated on their work and their lives. And fans eat it up. The author has become a marketing tool. It follows then that when fans become enamored with a certain work, or group of works by one author that they would look into others by the same author.
However, the part of the quote that discusses "drastic changes in style or opinion that need to be explained" rings even more true. There are entire web pages devoted to author bashing resulting from a change in style or opinion. And this is where foucault's observations become problematic. When the author is seen as both an organizer and an anchor it can also be stifling. The author has little to no room to change their ideas, content, genre, opinions, style etc. when they have developed a decent fan base. They are expected to produce work like what came before and if they fail to do so they are seen as deviant in some way.
In terms of an author's role in the critical world, these observations are very correct, but they provide yet another problem in the author dilemma. Any situation that limits or hinders the creative liscense of the author should be seen in a negative light...
The author most definitely affords organization. It seems to be one of the most basic ways through which we can group texts. In the introduction to Foucault there was a comment that stating " we ascribe a certain unity and coherence to all the works written by a single author, or at least we feel that an author's drastic changes in style or opinion must be explained" (1616-17). I feel that this is extremely true today. I think that the author is slowly evolving into something of tantamount importance to the work itself. for example, in the case of the Harry Potter books, there is an enormous obsession with the author J.K. Rowling. On a more generic level, when fans today become obsessed with a certain series, or a certain group of books by one author, the next logical step seems to be book signings or fan web pages, or even blogs. Many authors now have their very own blogs to keep fans updated on their work and their lives. And fans eat it up. The author has become a marketing tool. It follows then that when fans become enamored with a certain work, or group of works by one author that they would look into others by the same author.
However, the part of the quote that discusses "drastic changes in style or opinion that need to be explained" rings even more true. There are entire web pages devoted to author bashing resulting from a change in style or opinion. And this is where foucault's observations become problematic. When the author is seen as both an organizer and an anchor it can also be stifling. The author has little to no room to change their ideas, content, genre, opinions, style etc. when they have developed a decent fan base. They are expected to produce work like what came before and if they fail to do so they are seen as deviant in some way.
In terms of an author's role in the critical world, these observations are very correct, but they provide yet another problem in the author dilemma. Any situation that limits or hinders the creative liscense of the author should be seen in a negative light...
Friday, April 4, 2008
Todorov
I remember thinking when reading Todorov for the first time that his ideas seemed like common knowledge. for example, the "action of the narrative" in which the plot moves from an "equilibrium to disequilibrium and concludes in a new equilibrium" seems to be something that even a high schooler would know (2098). However, this all seems to make sense when it is looked at with the understanding that Todorov's writings were "foundational." It makes me wonder if Todorov completely set the stage for this kind of thinking. If that is the case, than structuralism, however displaced it may seem, must have been very influential to current literary thought.
Despite the influence of structuralism, I still seem to be at odds with the whole thought process behind it. I am so used to thinking of literature and science as two very separate and distinct fields. It is very difficult to try and apply scientific thinking to the literary world. I think I struggle the most with trying to understand why you would want to make the study of literature more scientific in nature. The only conclusion I have come to is that it could be done with hopes of making literary study more respected. for whatever reason, science is a very respected field. This probably has something to do with its concreteness. There are facts in science and this allows for validity. Literature on the other hand, affords no such concrete facts. There is only theory, questions, conjectures. Science seems to be viewed as a more necessary field while literature is seemingly auxiliary and superfluous.
So why not make literature more scientific? It seems to make perfect sense. I still don't agree though. And perhaps my view of literature is too romantic for many people's tastes, but I do not think that is should be molded into something that it is clearly not. Todorov repeatedly uses language such as "theoretical" "external" "internal"and "descriptive" (2001). I just don't understand how this terminology even relates to the study of literature. Or why it has to.
If my understanding of Todorov is correct, then he is attempting to limit the subjectivity of literary study. Yes, subjectivity can be viewed as a negative thing, however, in the case of literature it can also add richness and meaning to a text. Different reader interpretations are what make a text a living thing, as Todorov calls it when he quotes Henry James.
In short, there is something singular about literature. It stands on its own and should not be molded to fit into something it was not made for. It seems almost demeaning to have to make literary study something it is not.
Despite the influence of structuralism, I still seem to be at odds with the whole thought process behind it. I am so used to thinking of literature and science as two very separate and distinct fields. It is very difficult to try and apply scientific thinking to the literary world. I think I struggle the most with trying to understand why you would want to make the study of literature more scientific in nature. The only conclusion I have come to is that it could be done with hopes of making literary study more respected. for whatever reason, science is a very respected field. This probably has something to do with its concreteness. There are facts in science and this allows for validity. Literature on the other hand, affords no such concrete facts. There is only theory, questions, conjectures. Science seems to be viewed as a more necessary field while literature is seemingly auxiliary and superfluous.
So why not make literature more scientific? It seems to make perfect sense. I still don't agree though. And perhaps my view of literature is too romantic for many people's tastes, but I do not think that is should be molded into something that it is clearly not. Todorov repeatedly uses language such as "theoretical" "external" "internal"and "descriptive" (2001). I just don't understand how this terminology even relates to the study of literature. Or why it has to.
If my understanding of Todorov is correct, then he is attempting to limit the subjectivity of literary study. Yes, subjectivity can be viewed as a negative thing, however, in the case of literature it can also add richness and meaning to a text. Different reader interpretations are what make a text a living thing, as Todorov calls it when he quotes Henry James.
In short, there is something singular about literature. It stands on its own and should not be molded to fit into something it was not made for. It seems almost demeaning to have to make literary study something it is not.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The Death of the Author
"The Death of the Author" sounds so terribly ominous. While I strongly disagree with the argument that the work should be evaluated only after complete separation with the writer, I cannot help but empathize with Barthe's argument in his essay. I suppose that in ordinary culture we do, in fact, view the author as superior to the reader in a way. Barthes is making the argument that reading and the reader should be superior and primary thing when looking at literature. I am somewhere on the middle of this issue, but that is not the point I am hoping to make in this blog.
I am slightly confused by the author/reader tension. Maybe the argument is beyond me, but I am just not sure why there needs to be a superior or primary thing in literature. It could be idealistic on my part, but literature seems to be made up of so many elements, all working together to create a cohesive, beautiful and working whole. Both the reader and the writer are necessary for a work of literature to achieve it's purpose. Without the author, and the author's intent there could be no work and no meaning. Without the reader there is no interpretation or reception of the work. The reader makes the work realized, because without him/her it doesn't matter that anything is published. A book could be written and sit on a coffee table and come to nothing if it isn't read. I suppose this leads to yet another philosophical question about reading though. If a book is written by an author and sits unread, does it still have worth and meaning?
I have no idea. To say that a work means nothing without a reader though, is also saying that the author then is responsible for the construction of all meaning. So if this question were posited to Barthes would he say that since the reader and reading should be the superior and primary thing that a book must be read to have any meaning or purpose?
Barthe's also seemed to imply that every act of reading was an act of writing or rewriting. Does this then make us all writers if we are all readers? How then is any distinction to be made between the actual writer, or rather the scribe in this case, and the reader-writer?
I feel as though more questions surface as a result of Barthe's essay than answers. It would most certainly make for a good debate...
I am slightly confused by the author/reader tension. Maybe the argument is beyond me, but I am just not sure why there needs to be a superior or primary thing in literature. It could be idealistic on my part, but literature seems to be made up of so many elements, all working together to create a cohesive, beautiful and working whole. Both the reader and the writer are necessary for a work of literature to achieve it's purpose. Without the author, and the author's intent there could be no work and no meaning. Without the reader there is no interpretation or reception of the work. The reader makes the work realized, because without him/her it doesn't matter that anything is published. A book could be written and sit on a coffee table and come to nothing if it isn't read. I suppose this leads to yet another philosophical question about reading though. If a book is written by an author and sits unread, does it still have worth and meaning?
I have no idea. To say that a work means nothing without a reader though, is also saying that the author then is responsible for the construction of all meaning. So if this question were posited to Barthes would he say that since the reader and reading should be the superior and primary thing that a book must be read to have any meaning or purpose?
Barthe's also seemed to imply that every act of reading was an act of writing or rewriting. Does this then make us all writers if we are all readers? How then is any distinction to be made between the actual writer, or rather the scribe in this case, and the reader-writer?
I feel as though more questions surface as a result of Barthe's essay than answers. It would most certainly make for a good debate...
The Displacement of Structuralism
Unfortunately, I am one of the few who has had trouble keeping up with their blog. My posts have been few and far between, but I am going to make a valiant attempt to remedy this today. Sorry that most of my posts will pertain to past information. I just have quite a bit of catching up to do.
I remember reading in the biography of Tzvetan Todorov that his branch of Literary Criticism, structuralism, had been "less discredited than displaced, supplanted by more socially engaged approaches--among them, Marxism, feminism, the new historicism, and cultural studies" (2098).
This doesn't surprise me at all when looking at the differences between the different literary schools. Structuralism, while a legitimate critical school, focuses so little on the author and so much on the theoretical that it cannot help but be displaced by other schools. Marxism, feminism, the New Historicism and cultural studies all allow the critic to look at the author, the culture, the background, the history. In other words, a critic is given such a wider lens through which to view a work. When one is limited to the overall system of which the work is a part, it almost seems simultaneously too broad and too narrow. What exactly is the whole system of which the work is a part? How do we find and define such a system?
On the other hand, when looking at a work through a cultural, economic, or historical lens it is easier to understand what to look for and now to go about looking for it. The scope then, is much narrower, but the amount of places in a work that a critic has to look for their topic of study is broad and rich.
I personally also think that in order to be a structuralist, especially in this post-modern era, a conscious effort must be made. Sometimes, in order to separate a work from its author and its historical background great pains must be taken. It would take a great deal of effort, that almost seems counter intuitive to make literature yield a scientific knowledge. It almost seems like an attempt to make literature something that it is not.
Perhaps it does not matter that e=mc^2 was posited by Einstein, but in the literary world, I cannot help but think that the author of a work is of paramount importance. It gives a scholar no more information about the equation to know who wrote it, but it cannot be denied that knowledge of an author adds some richness to a text.
Perhaps none of this makes much sense, but I am merely trying to say that structuralism seems a more restrictive field of study when compared to the literary schools that have replaced it. I doubt that very many of us would sit down in class and begin discussing a work from the vantage point of a structuralist. In fact, I think it would prove very difficult for most of us. To separate a piece from an author and a history would be painstaking for most of us today, as we have been raised in a literary tradition where it is desired for reader and author to connect and make meaning from the fusion of the two.
I remember reading in the biography of Tzvetan Todorov that his branch of Literary Criticism, structuralism, had been "less discredited than displaced, supplanted by more socially engaged approaches--among them, Marxism, feminism, the new historicism, and cultural studies" (2098).
This doesn't surprise me at all when looking at the differences between the different literary schools. Structuralism, while a legitimate critical school, focuses so little on the author and so much on the theoretical that it cannot help but be displaced by other schools. Marxism, feminism, the New Historicism and cultural studies all allow the critic to look at the author, the culture, the background, the history. In other words, a critic is given such a wider lens through which to view a work. When one is limited to the overall system of which the work is a part, it almost seems simultaneously too broad and too narrow. What exactly is the whole system of which the work is a part? How do we find and define such a system?
On the other hand, when looking at a work through a cultural, economic, or historical lens it is easier to understand what to look for and now to go about looking for it. The scope then, is much narrower, but the amount of places in a work that a critic has to look for their topic of study is broad and rich.
I personally also think that in order to be a structuralist, especially in this post-modern era, a conscious effort must be made. Sometimes, in order to separate a work from its author and its historical background great pains must be taken. It would take a great deal of effort, that almost seems counter intuitive to make literature yield a scientific knowledge. It almost seems like an attempt to make literature something that it is not.
Perhaps it does not matter that e=mc^2 was posited by Einstein, but in the literary world, I cannot help but think that the author of a work is of paramount importance. It gives a scholar no more information about the equation to know who wrote it, but it cannot be denied that knowledge of an author adds some richness to a text.
Perhaps none of this makes much sense, but I am merely trying to say that structuralism seems a more restrictive field of study when compared to the literary schools that have replaced it. I doubt that very many of us would sit down in class and begin discussing a work from the vantage point of a structuralist. In fact, I think it would prove very difficult for most of us. To separate a piece from an author and a history would be painstaking for most of us today, as we have been raised in a literary tradition where it is desired for reader and author to connect and make meaning from the fusion of the two.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
randomly today I decided to look up the definition of poetry and this is what I came up with...
"Poetry is an imaginative awareness of experience expressed through meaning, sound, and rhythmic language choices so as to evoke an emotional response. Poetry has been known to employ meter and rhyme, but this is by no means necessary. Poetry is an ancient form that has gone through numerous and drastic reinvention over time. The very nature of poetry as an authentic and individual mode of expression makes it nearly impossible to define."
So if poetry is meant to evoke an emotional response and it is expressed through meaning, how can the affective fallacy be true? It seems to undermine poetry's very definition.
"Poetry is an imaginative awareness of experience expressed through meaning, sound, and rhythmic language choices so as to evoke an emotional response. Poetry has been known to employ meter and rhyme, but this is by no means necessary. Poetry is an ancient form that has gone through numerous and drastic reinvention over time. The very nature of poetry as an authentic and individual mode of expression makes it nearly impossible to define."
So if poetry is meant to evoke an emotional response and it is expressed through meaning, how can the affective fallacy be true? It seems to undermine poetry's very definition.
Last Post Continued...
An interesting point brought up in the New York Times article had to do with the intentional fallacy. While some of us tend to see it in a bad light today, many scholars of the 1950s saw it as a "license to interpret." Seeing it in the light makes it much more friendly sounding to me. I had a view of the intentional fallacy of robbing the poem and poet of something. I saw the author as an important part of the poetic puzzle. But isn't it true that removing the author altogether gives so much more room for interpretation? If an author comes right out and says what his poem means in no uncertain terms then there is little to no room to interpret anything. However, this made me wonder where the line between the affective fallacy and interpretation is drawn. If the reader's response to the poem is not supposed to matter then why does his interpretation matter at all? I feel like in this instance, the intentional and affective fallacies have backed themselves into a corner. Getting rid of the author allows the reader more freedom, but the reader shouldn't matter either. So then, what does actually matter.
I keep getting a visual of a poem in the page of a book untouched by human hands. Simply sitting there, meaningless, but just "being." What good is a poem in an unopened book. Humanity is what makes poetry worthwhile. Be it the author or the reader. Without human minds the poem is simply a lot of words and a waste of space.
I don't know why this is so hard for me to simply accept. I just think that there must be meaning, or poetry is pointless. It almost seems like we are proving the arguments the ppl make against English majors. "Why do you study poetry? It's so boring. And what does all the fancy language mean anyway?" I can't imagine answering these questions with "oh well, the reader doesn't matter and neither does the author. it's all about the poem itself. " Imagining this in my mind is hilarious, and this could be attributed to the fact that it is 1 am, but our field of study is obscure enough as is. This could only make matters worse.
I keep getting a visual of a poem in the page of a book untouched by human hands. Simply sitting there, meaningless, but just "being." What good is a poem in an unopened book. Humanity is what makes poetry worthwhile. Be it the author or the reader. Without human minds the poem is simply a lot of words and a waste of space.
I don't know why this is so hard for me to simply accept. I just think that there must be meaning, or poetry is pointless. It almost seems like we are proving the arguments the ppl make against English majors. "Why do you study poetry? It's so boring. And what does all the fancy language mean anyway?" I can't imagine answering these questions with "oh well, the reader doesn't matter and neither does the author. it's all about the poem itself. " Imagining this in my mind is hilarious, and this could be attributed to the fact that it is 1 am, but our field of study is obscure enough as is. This could only make matters worse.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9A0DE2DF1731F93AA35755C0A960948260&sec=&spon=&pagewanted=all
After the discussion in our last class, I was left with more questions than answers regarding the intentional and affective fallacies. These questions had more to do with my own personal misunderstanding on the subject than anything else. So, because of this confusion I decided to look a little further into these two literary ideas set forth by Wimsatt and Beardsley.
I found an interesting article in The New York Times entitled "The Critics Notebook: The Four Deadly Fallacies, Pathetic and Otherwise." (See Link) To my surprise and delight (please note heavy sarcasm here, simply because it was just another thing to possibly confuse me) there are two other fallacies that I had yet to wrap my mind around. The first, is the "Pathetic Fallacy" and while it may sound self-explanatory it most definitely is not. From the information I gleaned in the article, I understand the Pathetic fallacy to be a term coined by Joh n Ruskin. It is a phrase that he coined "for the tendency of writers unconvincingly to attribute sympathetic human qualities to inanimate forces in nature.'' The example provided in the article was the description of water as 'cruel' or 'kind' depending upon the mood of the character. The toehr fallacy that was introduced in this article was that of "the fallacy of imitative form." According to Christopher Lehmann-Haupt, the author of the article, 30 years ago these four fallacies were weapons wielded by english majors everywhere.
To be continued...
After the discussion in our last class, I was left with more questions than answers regarding the intentional and affective fallacies. These questions had more to do with my own personal misunderstanding on the subject than anything else. So, because of this confusion I decided to look a little further into these two literary ideas set forth by Wimsatt and Beardsley.
I found an interesting article in The New York Times entitled "The Critics Notebook: The Four Deadly Fallacies, Pathetic and Otherwise." (See Link) To my surprise and delight (please note heavy sarcasm here, simply because it was just another thing to possibly confuse me) there are two other fallacies that I had yet to wrap my mind around. The first, is the "Pathetic Fallacy" and while it may sound self-explanatory it most definitely is not. From the information I gleaned in the article, I understand the Pathetic fallacy to be a term coined by Joh n Ruskin. It is a phrase that he coined "for the tendency of writers unconvincingly to attribute sympathetic human qualities to inanimate forces in nature.'' The example provided in the article was the description of water as 'cruel' or 'kind' depending upon the mood of the character. The toehr fallacy that was introduced in this article was that of "the fallacy of imitative form." According to Christopher Lehmann-Haupt, the author of the article, 30 years ago these four fallacies were weapons wielded by english majors everywhere.
To be continued...
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The Intentional Fallacy
After learning about the intentional fallacy in a number of my English classes, I am no closer to fully understanding it. I understand what it is, what the poet intended is what the poem means, but I cannot wrap my mind around what that means for poetry as a whole. I think that it is absolutely legitimate to look at author intentions in order to gain insight into a poem. After all, they are the writer and creator of the work. This is not to say that I do not think that good poetry can and should stand on its own. On the contrary, I believe that the best of poetry does stand on its own. However, I think that by ignoring author intent we are laying waste to a great deal of information. I think it is important to look into author intent, but I do not feel that this should be the only information that allows readers some insight.
The most applicable example I can think to use is that of "We Wear the Mask." When looking at this poem without any knowledge of the author, his intent or background it can mean any number of things. I am sure when we participated in the class free write that everyone came up with differing beliefs about the information contained in the poem. It meant different things to all of us. When we were told about the author, it did change the way some people viewed the poem, but others continued to see the poem as a separate entity.
I personally like to think as the poem and poet as two ultimately separate things, but there is no reason to think that they cannot ever overlap. Looking at a poem only through the lens of author intent definitely cheapens it, because it then loses its many facets of meaning. In some cases the poem become less applicable and more distant to the reader. To look at "We Wear the Mask" as a poem written about African American history and slavery is fine, but it does close a lot of doors for many of the readers. In our class alone, if we were to look at the poem through this lens, the majority of us would lose our sense of relatedness to it, and our understanding as it was in our free writes would dissipate. Instead of harping on author intent as the end all and be all of a poem's meaning, I think it is better to look at poetic meaning like the layers of an onion.
One layer of meaning that cannot be ignored is that of the author's purpose. However, underneath this layer there are countless interpretations and meanings that the same poem has evoked. There should be a balance between our understanding of the poem through the "eyes" of the author, and our understanding of the poem as a separate entity. The only problem that I can find with this, is that for some it will be difficult to know about the author and restrain oneself from applying this knowledge to the poem.
I am not sure if any of this is making sense, or coming out the way I had hoped, but I simply mean to say that the meaning of good poems come from a number of sources, and one of theses sources is the author. Author intent should be tantamount to all other layers and sources of meaning.
The most applicable example I can think to use is that of "We Wear the Mask." When looking at this poem without any knowledge of the author, his intent or background it can mean any number of things. I am sure when we participated in the class free write that everyone came up with differing beliefs about the information contained in the poem. It meant different things to all of us. When we were told about the author, it did change the way some people viewed the poem, but others continued to see the poem as a separate entity.
I personally like to think as the poem and poet as two ultimately separate things, but there is no reason to think that they cannot ever overlap. Looking at a poem only through the lens of author intent definitely cheapens it, because it then loses its many facets of meaning. In some cases the poem become less applicable and more distant to the reader. To look at "We Wear the Mask" as a poem written about African American history and slavery is fine, but it does close a lot of doors for many of the readers. In our class alone, if we were to look at the poem through this lens, the majority of us would lose our sense of relatedness to it, and our understanding as it was in our free writes would dissipate. Instead of harping on author intent as the end all and be all of a poem's meaning, I think it is better to look at poetic meaning like the layers of an onion.
One layer of meaning that cannot be ignored is that of the author's purpose. However, underneath this layer there are countless interpretations and meanings that the same poem has evoked. There should be a balance between our understanding of the poem through the "eyes" of the author, and our understanding of the poem as a separate entity. The only problem that I can find with this, is that for some it will be difficult to know about the author and restrain oneself from applying this knowledge to the poem.
I am not sure if any of this is making sense, or coming out the way I had hoped, but I simply mean to say that the meaning of good poems come from a number of sources, and one of theses sources is the author. Author intent should be tantamount to all other layers and sources of meaning.
Monday, February 25, 2008
A Confessional Smackdown
Every time I sit down to read Eliot's critical essays the confessional school of poetry comes to my mind. Everything that Eliot says about the "extinction of personality" goes against the almost painfully personal confessional poems written by Plath, Lowell, Sexton, Olds etc. The poems written by these authors are composed solely of personal experience, and the author is the intentional focal point.
So if we are to to take Eliot's assertions about poetry to be true, then it stands to reason that the confessionals can't be skilled poets. In fact, it can almost be inferred that they are not poets at all, based on Eliot's criteria.
I also think that there is a disconnect between Eliot's essay and criticism of confessional poetry. If "honest criticism and sensitive appreciation is directed not upon the poet but upon the poetry" then how is one expected to judge confessional works. The poem and the poet are inextricably intertwined. There is no way to look at such a poem objectively. To critique a confessional poem is to critique a person and their feelings and emotions. This can prove to be a problem for both the critic and the writer. Eliot calls for "continuous self-sacrifice" and this is most definitely not something found in Confessional poems. At least not in the sense that Eliot is using it. Confessionals seem to sacrifice another part of themselves, to shamelessly put their hearts on paper.
In a sense, I believe that Eliot is correct. Honest criticism really needs to look at the poem itself, however I also think that this will not always work. Confessional poems, though infused with emotion, are still skillfully written.
"The more perfect the artist, the more completely separate in him will be the man who suffers and the mind which creates" (Eliot 1095). This is probably the one statement in Eliot's entire essay that completely and utterly undermines confessional poetry. In this case the mind that suffers is the mind which creates. I am currently stuck wondering if one type of poetry is better than another, or if both can simply coexist and be judged using different criteria. Though, I still run into the stumbling block of how to critique confessional poetry without making any statements about the author themselves.
So if we are to to take Eliot's assertions about poetry to be true, then it stands to reason that the confessionals can't be skilled poets. In fact, it can almost be inferred that they are not poets at all, based on Eliot's criteria.
I also think that there is a disconnect between Eliot's essay and criticism of confessional poetry. If "honest criticism and sensitive appreciation is directed not upon the poet but upon the poetry" then how is one expected to judge confessional works. The poem and the poet are inextricably intertwined. There is no way to look at such a poem objectively. To critique a confessional poem is to critique a person and their feelings and emotions. This can prove to be a problem for both the critic and the writer. Eliot calls for "continuous self-sacrifice" and this is most definitely not something found in Confessional poems. At least not in the sense that Eliot is using it. Confessionals seem to sacrifice another part of themselves, to shamelessly put their hearts on paper.
In a sense, I believe that Eliot is correct. Honest criticism really needs to look at the poem itself, however I also think that this will not always work. Confessional poems, though infused with emotion, are still skillfully written.
"The more perfect the artist, the more completely separate in him will be the man who suffers and the mind which creates" (Eliot 1095). This is probably the one statement in Eliot's entire essay that completely and utterly undermines confessional poetry. In this case the mind that suffers is the mind which creates. I am currently stuck wondering if one type of poetry is better than another, or if both can simply coexist and be judged using different criteria. Though, I still run into the stumbling block of how to critique confessional poetry without making any statements about the author themselves.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Nature of Friendship
THE TABLES TURNED
AN EVENING SCENE ON THE SAME SUBJECT
AN EVENING SCENE ON THE SAME SUBJECT
UP! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
The sun, above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet, 10
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless--
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by cheerfulness. 20
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:--
We murder to dissect.
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:--
We murder to dissect.
Enough of Science and of Art;
Close up those barren leaves; 30
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
Close up those barren leaves; 30
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
I was leafing through my romanticism book the other day, hoping to find some clues about the stance that Emerson's friends took on the subject of books and reading. I came across this poem by Wordsworth, and found it extremely relevant. Though the poem is short, it essentially argues one of Emerson's main points. "First in importance of the influences upon the mind is that of nature" (2). According to both men, nature and not books should be the driving force behind the creativity of man.
I also found the line "we murder to dissect" very interesting. This is consonant with Emerson's ideas in "the poet" about poetry being a record of failure. We will always fall short of true representation. Emerson was surely not alone in his ideas about books and poetry. In fact, it seems he was in very good company and that his friends shared similar beliefs. It is very interesting though, that two such skillful writers are so willing to acknowledge the shortcomings of their craft...
Book Wars
"To mind the inside of a book is to entertain one's self with the forced product of another man's brain. Now I think a man of quality and breeding may be much amused with the natural sprouts of his own."
-Lord Foppington in The Relapse
More likely than not, any of my classmates from Romanticism have posted on a similar topic. However, as I sat reading for that class I couldn't help but notice the connections between Ralph Waldo Emerson and Charles Lamb. The quote above is the opening quote in Lamb's "Detached Thoughts on Books and Reading." It struck me as odd because it seemed as though Emerson himself would say that very thing. In Emerson's mind books are not unalterably good because reading cn encourage imitation. The activity of reading books allows for someone else's imagination to take charge of your own. Emerson viewed this as a very dangerous activity. I am of the same mind to a certain extent. I think that all of us who write have experienced what Emerson is cautioning against (at least to some extent). There have been times when I sit down to write, inspired by some "genius and creative" idea of some kind, only to read back over the work later and realize that it is the product of someone else's thought that I had read previously. I think that reading can be dangerous simply because it is very deceiving just how much we assimilate unaware. And how can we not assimilate the things we read? For an hour, a day, a week we immerse ourselves in another world and in another person. We often hear of reading as an escape or rather as an experience. This can be a very, very good thing, but it can also be a detriment. In the short time that we fit into someone else's shoes and walk around in them in another world, we are being molded and shaped. Though we can't always tell when we put down a book, we have been changed, however small those changes may seem. More often than not they are so small that they remain an undetected part of us.
So what does this mean for our creativity? Is it always tainted? Is any work really and truly original? Perhaps. I cannot say for sure, but I believe it is silly so say that anything comes out of a vaccuum. So while I agree with Emerson's arguments about reading and imitation, I also believe that imitation is not necessarily a bad thing. Some of the greatest works ever written have been influenced by those that came before. Genius need not be born from nothing. To say that is to underestimate the human mind and imagination altogether. There is something to be said for being derivative and not original. I could write something completely original and it could concievably be the worst thing ever written in the english language. Originality should not be the only thing that makes a work great.
In his essay, Charles Lamb argues for the use of books. He states "At the hazard of losing some credit on this head, I must confess that I dedicate no inconsiderable portion of my time to other people's thoughts. I dream away my life in others' speculations. I love to lose myself in other men's minds. When I am not walking, I am reading; I cannot sit and think. Books think for me." (505).
I shudder to think about Emerson's reaction upon reading something like this. This is essentially the exact thing that he feels is wrong with reading books. To lose oneself on the minds of other men, is a very dangerous idea in the mind of Emerson. Lamb was obviously not a bad writer, nor an unoriginal one, so what does this mean for Emersons argument?
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Blake and Emerson
"Visions of the Daughters of Albion"
-William Blake
Then Theotormon broke his silence and he answered:
"Tell me what is the night or day to one o'erflowed with woe?
Tell me what is a thought? & of what substance is it made?
Tell me what is a joy? & in what gardens do joys grow?
And in what rivers swim the sorrows? and upon what mountains
[plate 4]
Wave shadows of discontent? and in what houses dwell the wretched
Drunken with woe, forgotten, and shut up from cold despair?
"Tell me where dwell the thoughts, forgotten till thou call them forth?
Tell me where dwell the joys of old! & where the ancient loves?
...
Where goest thou, O thought? to what remote land is thy flight?
If thou returnest to the present moment of affliction
Wilt thou bring comforts on thy wings and dews and honey and balm,
Or poison from the desert wilds, from the eyes of the envier?
Then Bromion said, and shook the cavern with his lamentation:
"Thou knowest that the ancient trees seen by thine eyes have fruit;
But knowest thou that trees and fruits flourish upon the earth
To gratify senses unknown? trees beasts and birds unknown:
Unknown, not unpercieved, spread in the infinite microscope,
In places yet unvisited by the voyager, and in worlds
Over another kind of seas, and in atmospheres unknown?
So that was a very long and somewhat convoluted introduction to my very first blog. You may be wondering how in the world I am going to connect Blake to Emerson. I promise that I have a point. Together, the two characters of Theotormon and Bromion parallel the arguments made by Emerson in "The Poet." Emerson states that poets are the "sayers and namers" of the world. They "turn the world to glass, and show us all things in their right series and procession" (730). He also asserts that all of humanity has the ability to see poetry, but the poets are essentially the carriers of the world's keys. Poets are born with the innate ability to "come one step nearer than any other" to the things of the world. While we can all see the beauty of the world, and think for ourselves, poets are the decoders of this beauty and thought. Theotormon could be representative of the rest of humanity. He is in need of new thought, or a new way to view his own thoughts. "The inaccessibleness of every thought but that we are in, is wonderful. What if you come near to it; you are as remote when you are nearest as when you are nearest as when you are farthest. Every thought is also a prison; every heaven is also a prison. Therefore we love the poet, the inventor, who in any form, whether in an ode or in an action or in looks or behavior, has yielded us a new thought. He unlocks our chains and admits us to a new scene" (735). Poor Theotormon just needed a "sayer" or "namer" to help him see the beauty in the world and unlock the prison of his thought. Bromion, villian that he is, resonates with Ralph Waldo Emerson's assertion regarding everyone's ability to see and sense the beauty of the world. Though we can see that which surrounds us, the unbridled potential that the world holds can only be unlocked by a poet. Things in this world are "unknown and unpercieved" but poets have the ability to remedy this.
-William Blake
Then Theotormon broke his silence and he answered:
"Tell me what is the night or day to one o'erflowed with woe?
Tell me what is a thought? & of what substance is it made?
Tell me what is a joy? & in what gardens do joys grow?
And in what rivers swim the sorrows? and upon what mountains
[plate 4]
Wave shadows of discontent? and in what houses dwell the wretched
Drunken with woe, forgotten, and shut up from cold despair?
"Tell me where dwell the thoughts, forgotten till thou call them forth?
Tell me where dwell the joys of old! & where the ancient loves?
...
Where goest thou, O thought? to what remote land is thy flight?
If thou returnest to the present moment of affliction
Wilt thou bring comforts on thy wings and dews and honey and balm,
Or poison from the desert wilds, from the eyes of the envier?
Then Bromion said, and shook the cavern with his lamentation:
"Thou knowest that the ancient trees seen by thine eyes have fruit;
But knowest thou that trees and fruits flourish upon the earth
To gratify senses unknown? trees beasts and birds unknown:
Unknown, not unpercieved, spread in the infinite microscope,
In places yet unvisited by the voyager, and in worlds
Over another kind of seas, and in atmospheres unknown?
So that was a very long and somewhat convoluted introduction to my very first blog. You may be wondering how in the world I am going to connect Blake to Emerson. I promise that I have a point. Together, the two characters of Theotormon and Bromion parallel the arguments made by Emerson in "The Poet." Emerson states that poets are the "sayers and namers" of the world. They "turn the world to glass, and show us all things in their right series and procession" (730). He also asserts that all of humanity has the ability to see poetry, but the poets are essentially the carriers of the world's keys. Poets are born with the innate ability to "come one step nearer than any other" to the things of the world. While we can all see the beauty of the world, and think for ourselves, poets are the decoders of this beauty and thought. Theotormon could be representative of the rest of humanity. He is in need of new thought, or a new way to view his own thoughts. "The inaccessibleness of every thought but that we are in, is wonderful. What if you come near to it; you are as remote when you are nearest as when you are nearest as when you are farthest. Every thought is also a prison; every heaven is also a prison. Therefore we love the poet, the inventor, who in any form, whether in an ode or in an action or in looks or behavior, has yielded us a new thought. He unlocks our chains and admits us to a new scene" (735). Poor Theotormon just needed a "sayer" or "namer" to help him see the beauty in the world and unlock the prison of his thought. Bromion, villian that he is, resonates with Ralph Waldo Emerson's assertion regarding everyone's ability to see and sense the beauty of the world. Though we can see that which surrounds us, the unbridled potential that the world holds can only be unlocked by a poet. Things in this world are "unknown and unpercieved" but poets have the ability to remedy this.
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