http://clevermsbennet.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
clevermsbennet.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomhigh2008-09-25 04:04 am
clevermsbennet.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2008-09-25 04:04 am
Entry tags:
Literature, Class 4: Period 3, Thursday, September 25
Miss Elizabeth Bennet did not recognize most of the students in her classroom. Clearly, Fandom was amusing itself at her expense once more. Very well; if they believed they belonged here, she would treat them accordingly.
"Today," she said, "our topic is going to be how identity changes a work, both from the author's perspective as well as readers. There is now a formal critical theory known as 'reader response;' it concerns how one's perceptions and background may alter fundamental aspects of the text, or lend new shades of meaning to it. Critics argue that the text is objective, not subjective -- that it can be seen on its own merits, and how the reader interprets it is secondary. I am not so certain that I agree. Who would the impartial reader be, who can separate his or her background from the text? If I feel the heroine in this novel is sweet, and you find her to be false and cloying, which of us is right? Or can we perhaps agree that the novelist's aim is for her to be seen as sweet, and unprepossessing, and leave it undetermined whether it succeeds?"
"Let us presume that people can be broken into certain categories: one's sex, one's age, one's social standing, one's culture, one's economic status. Add a layer to this: one's experiences. If you are a young boy who was raised on a farm, and had a favourite horse, then a story about horse-racing might be terribly exciting, to you. An older gentleman who was an experienced jockey might likewise reach for the tale, eagerly, while a wealthy society matron may feel that horses are uninteresting. A girl whose uncle lost a great deal of money on horse-racing may dislike the tale most of all."
She shrugged. "It sounds fascinating, but people aren't that simple. They never have been. The young boy from the farm may feel that forcing the horse to compete in a race is ridiculous, when it could be pulling a carriage or a plough. The experienced jockey may be tired of that life, or may find the story to be highly inaccurate as regards his own experiences. The wealthy society matron might find herself drawn in by a world the likes of which she's never imagined, and the girl may wish to understand what it was that held such lure for her uncle's path to ruin."
"I am not meaning to imply that identity studies, or reader-responses, are this simplistic. They most certainly aren't. My brief example of the horse-racing story was simply to show that what appeals to us in a work is intrinsic to who we are as individuals. Perhaps the reason I find that heroine so sweet is that she reminds me greatly of my sister Jane, whereas you have never known someone who behaves in that manner, and you cannot suspend your disbelief accordingly. You might further argue that the heroine is only hoping to appear sweet, and is secretly scheming and plotting her way through life, falling back on her presumption of innocence when all else fails. Deconstructionists might argue that to be an equally valid reading of the novel, even if the author never intended it. Do you agree? There are critics who believe that Tolkien's King of the Bracelets was an allegory for an ongoing war, in his country at that time, regardless of the times that Tolkien himself denied it. Could he have written it as an unconscious allegory? Might one say that it functions as one, if the author did not intend for it to be so? Are alternate readings of a text valid, or are they simply illustrative of the ways in which we are fundamentally different in worldviews and perceptions -- an interesting literary exercise, but nothing more?"
She stopped pacing, glancing around the room again. "The author must have his or her share in this -- mostly his, I fear, for the works considered to be 'classics' were largely those written by wealthy English and European men. Which suggests that either women and men from other cultural backgrounds simply weren't writing as much as Anglican men, that their works were clearly inferior on an objective scale, or that those responsible for identifying 'classics' were by and large the same creatures, Anglican men, who responded largely to works written from similar perspectives. This is a rather telling point for the response crowd, I might add, but let us continue. A man writes of actions which would be seen as normal and unremarkable during his lifetime, and seems to condone them; later, history condemns those same behaviors, as well as his tale. Should we view the story through his lens, or ours? Lest you think this is strictly hypothetical, I regret to inform you that Shakespeare himself wrote a play which seems highly anti-Semitic, which would not be wholly remarkable in society at that time. Critics argue that you might read the character sympathetically, or even that Shakespeare himself intended to portray him as such, but certain aspects of the play make either reading -- slanderous or sympathetic -- difficult. If he did not, what then? The situation is problematical, to say the least."
(OOC: Yes, Miss Bennet is still Miss Bennet, and no, she doesn't know about today's genderswap yet. Feel free to break her brain.)
"Today," she said, "our topic is going to be how identity changes a work, both from the author's perspective as well as readers. There is now a formal critical theory known as 'reader response;' it concerns how one's perceptions and background may alter fundamental aspects of the text, or lend new shades of meaning to it. Critics argue that the text is objective, not subjective -- that it can be seen on its own merits, and how the reader interprets it is secondary. I am not so certain that I agree. Who would the impartial reader be, who can separate his or her background from the text? If I feel the heroine in this novel is sweet, and you find her to be false and cloying, which of us is right? Or can we perhaps agree that the novelist's aim is for her to be seen as sweet, and unprepossessing, and leave it undetermined whether it succeeds?"
"Let us presume that people can be broken into certain categories: one's sex, one's age, one's social standing, one's culture, one's economic status. Add a layer to this: one's experiences. If you are a young boy who was raised on a farm, and had a favourite horse, then a story about horse-racing might be terribly exciting, to you. An older gentleman who was an experienced jockey might likewise reach for the tale, eagerly, while a wealthy society matron may feel that horses are uninteresting. A girl whose uncle lost a great deal of money on horse-racing may dislike the tale most of all."
She shrugged. "It sounds fascinating, but people aren't that simple. They never have been. The young boy from the farm may feel that forcing the horse to compete in a race is ridiculous, when it could be pulling a carriage or a plough. The experienced jockey may be tired of that life, or may find the story to be highly inaccurate as regards his own experiences. The wealthy society matron might find herself drawn in by a world the likes of which she's never imagined, and the girl may wish to understand what it was that held such lure for her uncle's path to ruin."
"I am not meaning to imply that identity studies, or reader-responses, are this simplistic. They most certainly aren't. My brief example of the horse-racing story was simply to show that what appeals to us in a work is intrinsic to who we are as individuals. Perhaps the reason I find that heroine so sweet is that she reminds me greatly of my sister Jane, whereas you have never known someone who behaves in that manner, and you cannot suspend your disbelief accordingly. You might further argue that the heroine is only hoping to appear sweet, and is secretly scheming and plotting her way through life, falling back on her presumption of innocence when all else fails. Deconstructionists might argue that to be an equally valid reading of the novel, even if the author never intended it. Do you agree? There are critics who believe that Tolkien's King of the Bracelets was an allegory for an ongoing war, in his country at that time, regardless of the times that Tolkien himself denied it. Could he have written it as an unconscious allegory? Might one say that it functions as one, if the author did not intend for it to be so? Are alternate readings of a text valid, or are they simply illustrative of the ways in which we are fundamentally different in worldviews and perceptions -- an interesting literary exercise, but nothing more?"
She stopped pacing, glancing around the room again. "The author must have his or her share in this -- mostly his, I fear, for the works considered to be 'classics' were largely those written by wealthy English and European men. Which suggests that either women and men from other cultural backgrounds simply weren't writing as much as Anglican men, that their works were clearly inferior on an objective scale, or that those responsible for identifying 'classics' were by and large the same creatures, Anglican men, who responded largely to works written from similar perspectives. This is a rather telling point for the response crowd, I might add, but let us continue. A man writes of actions which would be seen as normal and unremarkable during his lifetime, and seems to condone them; later, history condemns those same behaviors, as well as his tale. Should we view the story through his lens, or ours? Lest you think this is strictly hypothetical, I regret to inform you that Shakespeare himself wrote a play which seems highly anti-Semitic, which would not be wholly remarkable in society at that time. Critics argue that you might read the character sympathetically, or even that Shakespeare himself intended to portray him as such, but certain aspects of the play make either reading -- slanderous or sympathetic -- difficult. If he did not, what then? The situation is problematical, to say the least."
(OOC: Yes, Miss Bennet is still Miss Bennet, and no, she doesn't know about today's genderswap yet. Feel free to break her brain.)
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]
Re: Sign In [LIT-4]