Thursday, September 22, 2005
Aristotle, Nietzsche, Lakoff, Jakobson
For some reason I found Aristotle very appealing. I wonder what this says about me. Probably that I am overly methodical and organized...Which I don't really think I am, I just wish I could be. Maybe that is why I like it. I like the idea that everything can be broken down and neatly categorized, but it is just not realistic in life, is it? Anyway, Aristotle. I found that I agreed with a great deal of what he says. It may be oversimplified, but most of his assertions regarding drama and tragedy hold true even today. The idea of reversals and recognitions as the central plot twists in drama was like a light bulb turning on over my head. These are crucial to a good drama, or even a Law and Order episode. How the playwright goes about revealing the reversal or recognition is also very important. I wonder if Aristotle was the first critic to identify the flaw of coincidence. It is undoubtedly a big problem in drama, and difficult to avoid. I also found that his condemnation of characters acting inconsistently really resonated with me. As an actor, I have occasionally had a very difficult time proceeding with a scene that I feel is inauthentic, and the main block for me is character inconsistency. Then again, perhaps an actor is not the best judge of such things, I tend to identify with my characters, and thus only want to believe the best of them. She wouldn't kill her husband! But, of course, that may not be the case. Food for thought, anyway.
I disagree with Aristotle on a few issues, though. The "appropriate" character designation, of course. Maybe the gender and class specific unintentional slurs colored my opinion. OK, I think I can admit that they definitely did. And I know that I have to keep in mind that gender roles were much more rigid in thie time, and Aristotle is just a product of his culture. But still, from a modern day viewpoint, I think that characters behaving in a way that is opposite to stereotypes of the day, as long as he or she is consistent in this behavior, adds richness and depth to drama. It causes the audience to question this behavior, which in turn causes them to question their own beliefs and prejudices regarding stereotypes. So, I have to disagree with him there. The other thing I questioned was the hiearchical order of importance of elements, placing plot above characters in significance. OK, maybe, but I don't think it is a foregone conclusion. Perhaps the dramatic climate of our day is just different from his, since writers emphasize originality much more. Instead of retelling the same stories about the same families over again in different ways, the invention of new characters, pushing the limits of character development, is far more prevalent. Does this make his points about plot less valid? No. But it does create room for argument. And the statement "without action a tragedy cannot exist, but without characters it may", I just don't quite see how he justifies this. Anyway, as for the other readings I really didn't find any that I did not enjoy. I particularly delight in the way Nietzsche says things. I can understand why people are not sure whether to classify him as philosophy or literature. As for Lakoff, such straightforward reasoning is immediately refreshing. I am not quite sure what it is that he is hoping to accomplish, but again, I like the way he says it. And it did make me think about ingrained metaphors in my own perception. Perhaps that is what he was trying to accomplish, making us think!
I disagree with Aristotle on a few issues, though. The "appropriate" character designation, of course. Maybe the gender and class specific unintentional slurs colored my opinion. OK, I think I can admit that they definitely did. And I know that I have to keep in mind that gender roles were much more rigid in thie time, and Aristotle is just a product of his culture. But still, from a modern day viewpoint, I think that characters behaving in a way that is opposite to stereotypes of the day, as long as he or she is consistent in this behavior, adds richness and depth to drama. It causes the audience to question this behavior, which in turn causes them to question their own beliefs and prejudices regarding stereotypes. So, I have to disagree with him there. The other thing I questioned was the hiearchical order of importance of elements, placing plot above characters in significance. OK, maybe, but I don't think it is a foregone conclusion. Perhaps the dramatic climate of our day is just different from his, since writers emphasize originality much more. Instead of retelling the same stories about the same families over again in different ways, the invention of new characters, pushing the limits of character development, is far more prevalent. Does this make his points about plot less valid? No. But it does create room for argument. And the statement "without action a tragedy cannot exist, but without characters it may", I just don't quite see how he justifies this. Anyway, as for the other readings I really didn't find any that I did not enjoy. I particularly delight in the way Nietzsche says things. I can understand why people are not sure whether to classify him as philosophy or literature. As for Lakoff, such straightforward reasoning is immediately refreshing. I am not quite sure what it is that he is hoping to accomplish, but again, I like the way he says it. And it did make me think about ingrained metaphors in my own perception. Perhaps that is what he was trying to accomplish, making us think!
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Augustine thumbs down, Schileirmacher enthusiastic thumbs up
Augustine really wasn’t for me, maybe since the excerpt was so short, I didn’t get much from it, but for what I did get, I just didn’t agree with. I really thought that the bit about words that belong to no language, before they are put into language and are still in the mind, was far-fetched. And then using the bible as evidence, citing the passage saying that Jesus saw into their thoughts, positing that in doing this he saw thoughts without the distorting filter of language is just really reaching. Not only is it flimsy evidence, he assumes a great deal in this assertion. Beyond that, perhaps the dogmatic religious tone that turned me off, but I just did not buy what he was selling. The article right before it, “On Christian Doctrine” was equally unimpressive. I thought his attitude, particularly here, was unpleasantly condescending, especially toward the “ignorant” and “unlearned”. Anyone else really turned off by this one?I did think that the Schileirmacher was refreshingly approachable. Finally, a theory of interpreting literature I can get behind. The circular reasoning problem with understanding a text only as it relates to the context of the author’s entire oeuvre, or even the rest of the works of the time, including the author’s influences, and yet needing to examine the author’s texts individually to understand all of the works in general is mind numbing, though. I was struck by this quote when I came across it: “The artfully correct exposition has no other goal that that which we have in hearing every common spoken discourse.” (619) So, our goal in interpretation should approach spoken discourse? I wonder if Plato/Socrates would approve? Anyway, setting all of this aside, what I really like about this is the focus on the author, and the concentration on the author’s purpose in writing a text, his influences, how “the process of writing affects the writers inner thoughts.” (621). I think learning all about the circumstances surrounding the composition of a work, and the cultural atmosphere, including literature and art of the day, really is vital in informing the reading. Looking at the text and nothing but the text is an interesting exercise, but at the end of the day, not my preference. I may be an old fashioned girl, but I can’t help it, I still care about what the author intends to communicate to his readers. I can’t get behind the whole death of the author…oh well, maybe I can still be taught…we shall see…See you all in class tomorrow…OK, today. At least I am getting this done a little earlier than usual, if only by a couple of hours. Bye!Jen
Augustine thumbs down, Schileirmacher enthusiastic thumbs up
Augustine really wasn’t for me, maybe since the excerpt was so short, I didn’t get much from it, but for what I did get, I just didn’t agree with. I really thought that the bit about words that belong to no language, before they are put into language and are still in the mind, was far-fetched. And then using the bible as evidence, citing the passage saying that Jesus saw into their thoughts, positing that in doing this he saw thoughts without the distorting filter of language is just really reaching. Not only is it flimsy evidence, he assumes a great deal in this assertion. Beyond that, perhaps the dogmatic religious tone that turned me off, but I just did not buy what he was selling. The article right before it, “On Christian Doctrine” was equally unimpressive. I thought his attitude, particularly here, was unpleasantly condescending, especially toward the “ignorant” and “unlearned”. Anyone else really turned off by this one?I did think that the Schileirmacher was refreshingly approachable. Finally, a theory of interpreting literature I can get behind. The circular reasoning problem with understanding a text only as it relates to the context of the author’s entire oeuvre, or even the rest of the works of the time, including the author’s influences, and yet needing to examine the author’s texts individually to understand all of the works in general is mind numbing, though. I was struck by this quote when I came across it: “The artfully correct exposition has no other goal that that which we have in hearing every common spoken discourse.” (619) So, our goal in interpretation should approach spoken discourse? I wonder if Plato/Socrates would approve? Anyway, setting all of this aside, what I really like about this is the focus on the author, and the concentration on the author’s purpose in writing a text, his influences, how “the process of writing affects the writers inner thoughts.” (621). I think learning all about the circumstances surrounding the composition of a work, and the cultural atmosphere, including literature and art of the day, really is vital in informing the reading. Looking at the text and nothing but the text is an interesting exercise, but at the end of the day, not my preference. I may be an old fashioned girl, but I can’t help it, I still care about what the author intends to communicate to his readers. I can’t get behind the whole death of the author…oh well, maybe I can still be taught…we shall see…See you all in class tomorrow…OK, today. At least I am getting this done a little earlier than usual, if only by a couple of hours. Bye!Jen
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Thursday, September 08, 2005
3rd week of class
OK, I have got to start writing these things earlier in the day…or week…or not be doped up on cold medicine…but here goes.First of all, I have to say that I really liked Saussure. The way he laid everything out in an organized and scientific manner really appealed to me. The idea that one can examine something given a set of tools, in this case, the ins and outs of language, and get to the bottom of it, is innately comforting. Which may explain why I didn’t really care much for Derrida, in general. But more on that later. I was particularly drawn to the interplay of seeming opposites, and the idea that nothing articulated in language has a positive meaning in and of itself, but is instead defined by the various things or ideas that it is not. I have never thought about it this way, but it really is true. There is no way to explain the concept of light to a person who exists in a constant state of light, is there? Light is simply what is, there is no differentiation, and therefore no cause to identify light as such. Off the subject a bit, it makes me think of a silly Broadway reference (Stephen Sondheim, from “Into the Woods”, ) “Oh, if life were made of moments, even now and then a bad one. But if life were made of moments then you’d never know you had one”. But back to Saussure. I also liked the idea of language as “a link between thought and sound”. It is never quite the same, though, when an idea is articulated through the link of languague. Something is always lost, somehow, in the translation. Which brings us to Derrida.Perhaps I would get a better grasp of what he is trying to say if I could read his writing in the original French. I don’t have anything astute to say, so I won’t even try, but I was struck by a couple of observations he makes. The idea of play, and his admonishment of Plato is amusing. When we see Plato’s passage from Laws as trying to quantify and impose boundaries on play, play for the sake of salvation, it is of course exposed as an absurd notion. Setting restrictions and worse, making demands upon play is antithetical to the nature of play itself. However (as I posted in someone’s BLOG, I can’t remember which one now) he loses me when he takes the idea to the extremes, and abandons the search for truth, instead resorting to a constant “play” with literature, picking it apart and unraveling it by exposing its inherent contradictions and tautologies. I really disagree with one of his early assertions along this line, that traditional criticism exists as an “indispensable guardrail that has always only protected, it has never opened, a reading.” (1825). I take great umbrage with this allegation, it gets to the core of why I am studying literature. I have always loved to read, but when I began to study literature in earnest as an undergraduate I was (and still am) fascinated by the way different critical interpretations and perspectives on a text can open it up, or make the reader see it in a totally different light. I disagree with Derrida that there is no “truth” in language or literature. I think there are a number of different “truths”, a great many valid and exciting ways of examining and deriving meaning from literature. I remain captivated by the sheer breadth of possibilities a single text can hold, and refuse to discard “traditional criticism” as merely protecting a reading from understanding. But perhaps I misunderstand Derrida. It is possible. After all, language is so imperfect.
3rd week of class
OK, I have got to start writing these things earlier in the day…or week…or not be doped up on cold medicine…but here goes.First of all, I have to say that I really liked Saussure. The way he laid everything out in an organized and scientific manner really appealed to me. The idea that one can examine something given a set of tools, in this case, the ins and outs of language, and get to the bottom of it, is innately comforting. Which may explain why I didn’t really care much for Derrida, in general. But more on that later. I was particularly drawn to the interplay of seeming opposites, and the idea that nothing articulated in language has a positive meaning in and of itself, but is instead defined by the various things or ideas that it is not. I have never thought about it this way, but it really is true. There is no way to explain the concept of light to a person who exists in a constant state of light, is there? Light is simply what is, there is no differentiation, and therefore no cause to identify light as such. Off the subject a bit, it makes me think of a silly Broadway reference (Stephen Sondheim, from “Into the Woods”, ) “Oh, if life were made of moments, even now and then a bad one. But if life were made of moments then you’d never know you had one”. But back to Saussure. I also liked the idea of language as “a link between thought and sound”. It is never quite the same, though, when an idea is articulated through the link of languague. Something is always lost, somehow, in the translation. Which brings us to Derrida.Perhaps I would get a better grasp of what he is trying to say if I could read his writing in the original French. I don’t have anything astute to say, so I won’t even try, but I was struck by a couple of observations he makes. The idea of play, and his admonishment of Plato is amusing. When we see Plato’s passage from Laws as trying to quantify and impose boundaries on play, play for the sake of salvation, it is of course exposed as an absurd notion. Setting restrictions and worse, making demands upon play is antithetical to the nature of play itself. However (as I posted in someone’s BLOG, I can’t remember which one now) he loses me when he takes the idea to the extremes, and abandons the search for truth, instead resorting to a constant “play” with literature, picking it apart and unraveling it by exposing its inherent contradictions and tautologies. I really disagree with one of his early assertions along this line, that traditional criticism exists as an “indispensable guardrail that has always only protected, it has never opened, a reading.” (1825). I take great umbrage with this allegation, it gets to the core of why I am studying literature. I have always loved to read, but when I began to study literature in earnest as an undergraduate I was (and still am) fascinated by the way different critical interpretations and perspectives on a text can open it up, or make the reader see it in a totally different light. I disagree with Derrida that there is no “truth” in language or literature. I think there are a number of different “truths”, a great many valid and exciting ways of examining and deriving meaning from literature. I remain captivated by the sheer breadth of possibilities a single text can hold, and refuse to discard “traditional criticism” as merely protecting a reading from understanding. But perhaps I misunderstand Derrida. It is possible. After all, language is so imperfect.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Thursday, September 01, 2005
reading response
Finally finished all of the reading. Whew! I finished up with the Ong, since I was waiting for my copy to arrive by mail, and I wish now that I had read it first, since it provides a nice foundation for the other readings. Oh well, bygones. Even though I was reading it quickly up against a deadline, Orality and Literacy had the most impact for me, of all of the readings. I liked the style and organization of the reading, but more than that, I thought the points Ong made were fascinating and insightful. I loved his analogy of describing the concept of oral literature is like describing a horse as a wheel-less car. I also really liked the idea of the written word as cultural residue, gradually building up and lasting from generation to generation. The terminology is an interesting problem, though, since the concept of “oral literature” is a bit of an oxymoron. I have also heard oral works referred to as texts, with the entomological justification of “weavings”. For me, though regardless of the original derivation, the term “text” connotates the written word even more than the term “literature”. “Voicings” is a fun alternative. But I digress.The descriptions of the oral tradition, and its significant differences from typographical culture, were quite illuminating. For me, it brought the works of Chaucer and other medieval writers to mind. In studying these works in the past, I was always surprised to discover how derivative they were. Almost none of the basic stories in Canterbury Tales are actually Chaucer’s original creations, but new tellings of older narratives. When I learned this, it seemed so alien to my thinking of literature as telling a unique and original story. I was surprised to discover that it was the original story that was the alien idea in Chaucer’s time, when the true art was reworking existing tales. After reading Ong, this makes more sense. The oral idea of originality as not so much “the introduction of new material but fitting the traditional materials effectively into each individual, unique situation and/or audience” (Ong, 59) is clearly still at play in this time, though it is mutating already.I also found the description of the essential differences between sight and sound interesting…reminded me of Joyce’s Stephen Deadalus and his “ineluctable modality of the visible”. Overall, the Ong really resonated with me…it made sense, and brought a lot of interesting points across.The short Plato excerpt was interesting, as well. Phaedrus is such a yes man. :-) It is rather disconcerting to think of writing as merely the illusory appearance of wisdom, though. Are literate people really difficult to get along with, having the mere appearance of wisdom, but no actual knowledge? It is certainly true that we, as a culture, have completely put our trust in writing, which has manifested itself in good and bad ways. The idea of writing “introduc(ing) forgetfulness into the soul of those who learn it”(Norton, 79) is so ominous and sad, somehow. It makes me want to abandon writing entirely, and live a purely oral existence in order to repair my soul…well, not entirely, but at least for tonight. And with that, I shall sign off. See you all in class in a few hours…Jen
reading response
Finally finished all of the reading. Whew! I finished up with the Ong, since I was waiting for my copy to arrive by mail, and I wish now that I had read it first, since it provides a nice foundation for the other readings. Oh well, bygones. Even though I was reading it quickly up against a deadline, Orality and Literacy had the most impact for me, of all of the readings. I liked the style and organization of the reading, but more than that, I thought the points Ong made were fascinating and insightful. I loved his analogy of describing the concept of oral literature is like describing a horse as a wheel-less car. I also really liked the idea of the written word as cultural residue, gradually building up and lasting from generation to generation. The terminology is an interesting problem, though, since the concept of “oral literature” is a bit of an oxymoron. I have also heard oral works referred to as texts, with the entomological justification of “weavings”. For me, though regardless of the original derivation, the term “text” connotates the written word even more than the term “literature”. “Voicings” is a fun alternative. But I digress.The descriptions of the oral tradition, and its significant differences from typographical culture, were quite illuminating. For me, it brought the works of Chaucer and other medieval writers to mind. In studying these works in the past, I was always surprised to discover how derivative they were. Almost none of the basic stories in Canterbury Tales are actually Chaucer’s original creations, but new tellings of older narratives. When I learned this, it seemed so alien to my thinking of literature as telling a unique and original story. I was surprised to discover that it was the original story that was the alien idea in Chaucer’s time, when the true art was reworking existing tales. After reading Ong, this makes more sense. The oral idea of originality as not so much “the introduction of new material but fitting the traditional materials effectively into each individual, unique situation and/or audience” (Ong, 59) is clearly still at play in this time, though it is mutating already.I also found the description of the essential differences between sight and sound interesting…reminded me of Joyce’s Stephen Deadalus and his “ineluctable modality of the visible”. Overall, the Ong really resonated with me…it made sense, and brought a lot of interesting points across.The short Plato excerpt was interesting, as well. Phaedrus is such a yes man. :-) It is rather disconcerting to think of writing as merely the illusory appearance of wisdom, though. Are literate people really difficult to get along with, having the mere appearance of wisdom, but no actual knowledge? It is certainly true that we, as a culture, have completely put our trust in writing, which has manifested itself in good and bad ways. The idea of writing “introduc(ing) forgetfulness into the soul of those who learn it”(Norton, 79) is so ominous and sad, somehow. It makes me want to abandon writing entirely, and live a purely oral existence in order to repair my soul…well, not entirely, but at least for tonight. And with that, I shall sign off. See you all in class in a few hours…Jen



