Monday, September 15, 2008

The Picture of Dorian Gray chapters 1-6

First off, I feel that I should say that I really, really like this book so far.
Secondly, it makes me so very, very uncomfortable.

Innocent, childish (somewhat obnoxious) Dorian is being used and manipulated by two men, one of whom is entirely consumed with his obsession with Dorian and the other who delights in corrupting him and destroying his sweet nature. I honestly couldn't tell you which makes me more uncomfortable, Basil's wholehearted and passionate fixation or Lord Henry's idle, selfish desire to devour Dorian and spit him back out just to see how he ticks.

I can't decide whether or not I believe Basil, Lady Agatha, and others when they claim that Lord Henry never means what he says. I could see L.H. as being enough of an asshat to mean his horrible and self-centered philosophies. The way that no one ever seems to truly interact other than with projections of themselves in others supports this perception of L.H. If he truly believes that people are as dull and unintelligent as he makes them out to be, then that would explain why his friends and family members are too obtuse to recognise this. On the other hand, I could see him being bored and idle enough to say these ridiculous things just to spark a reaction. His dissociation between what one believes and what is right (pg 10) supports this idea. It also supports the concept of a common morality independent of what an individual believes, however, which really doesn't seem to be consistent with what L.H. says or thinks. I think we'll have to wait and see how he interacts with Sibyl to get a clearer idea of Harry's motives.

I was just flipping through my book and saw Harry's thoughts about how he wants to dominate Dorian Gray (41). I also saw the part where he tells Dorian that it is only the sacred things that are worth touching (58). What a creeper!

Now, obviously the main difference that arises in Dorian from when he meets Lord Henry is his newfound sense of vanity and self. He becomes a sponge for Harry's cynical speeches. I think that the only real difference in his interpersonal relationships, however, is the will to act. He is rude and unpleasant to Basil before Harry starts corrupting him, but after spending time with Lord Henry Dorian stands Basil up, openly contradicts people, rescinds his charitable offers of assistance, and makes flighty and impulsive decisions that he knows will disappoint his family.

I feel, though, that I can't yet really comment too much on Dorian and Sibyl. We haven't actually seen the two of them interact; we have only heard their lovestruck accounts of each other. I find it interesting to note that while they both view each other as parts from a play and have no desire to see each other outside of their set roles, Dorian is able to recognize Sibyl as being in several different roles and knows her name while Sibyl cannot conceive of him as anything other than her Prince Charming. In this way, then, we know that on some level Dorian sees the farce of their relationship for what it is--based on highly unrealistic perceptions. Sibyl, however, seems much more one-dimensional and unable to distinguish the difference between her reality and her fantasy.

I actually really want to read ahead and see what happens when Basil and Lord Henry meet Sibyl. Basil's pathetic little moment of realization in the carriage at the end of chapter 6 was touching, and I would like to learn more about Lord Henry and hope that Sibyl fleshes out a little more. I need to move on to other homework, though, so we'll revisit this in a day or two.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Sturcturalism

My problem with structuralism (and bear with me, because I'm writing this as I read instead of as a reflection on the chapter later on) is that it rejects the idea of individual works as groundbreaking or bringers of change. If you only view a literary work in terms of what it tells you about the context in which it was written then you never have the tools with which to observe context as it changes. Something radical or insightful or incendiary can only be viewed as first deviant and then normal but never as inspiring mass change.

Problem #2 with structuralism: it assumes a definite truth. BT includes phrases such as that the work "does not make sense" or "cannot be understood" outside of the larger context, but this is going with the assumption that the author had a definite purpose when writing the work and that meaning is given to the work by the author (or god, fate, truth, some higher external power) and that meaning is not "jointly constructed by reader and writer", as critical theory states. If meaning is always outside then couldn't we also draw structurally based conclusisions around the context that we impose upon the text when we read it?

I know that that isn't the point of literary criticism, so let's look at this from a different angle. The text states that literary works do not make sense unless you look at them from the most abstract contextual view. This conclusion is incorrect. It's human nature to extrapolate meaning beyond the given and to warp what we interpret into social norms that we understand. Some texts count on these properties. First person narratives or texts that exclude context and description outside of dialogue count on these qualitites in order to be understood (The Sound and the Fury and A Farewell to Arms come to mind, but that's probably because I like them so much). So if books frequently depend on our ability to understand beyond our means, basing a form of literary analysis around the idea that you cannot understand this without the greater context seems a little off to me. It glorifies the author's intentions while at the same time pretending that the author has little to no autonomy.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

hey look, it's an entry. Liberal humanism, literary theory, all that jazz.

I want to start this off by saying that I fully intend to take advantage of the fact that this doesn't have to be a summary. If this is too specific, I'll broaden it, but for now I'm going to talk about the aspects of the reading that interested me or confused me or made me think and I'm going to avoid topics that don't. Why? Because this is the internet, the throne of arrogance, and because I don't like to write things because they're expected. It makes me feel slimy. Anyway--on to more academic things.

When I read the first chapter of Beginning Theory, the thing that really popped out to me was Matthew Arnold's confused sort of classism. Maybe I was fixating on the thing that really offended my lower-middle-class sensibilities; maybe the caffeine just kicked in at around page 26. Regardless, I have been having trouble wrapping my head around Arnold's views on the role of the critic in society and his views on the relative capability of amateurs.

On page 26 of BT, Peter Barry explains to us that Arnold essentially believes in a central truth that is acquired through the ages. It is passed on or revealed, not discovered. We see too that the critic is the priest of his literary church. The intermediary revealer of knowledge, the critic draws back the curtain and enables individuals to "give individual assent to the canon of great works". So here, the common person needs an expert in order to understand great works (which also implies that the work cannot speak for itself and it requires context in order to be understood. Oops).

Later on, however (page 29 if you're following along in your books) Barry says that Arnold "seems essentially to license and encourage the amateur". He says here that the simple act of reading great works allows someone to reach a "true judgement on it". So...is the average person capable of understanding on their own, or do they still need an intermediary? Maybe he's just using illogical logic to justify the existence of his own profession--heaven forbid he disprove his usefulness and get fired. Maybe I'm doing exactly what he wants by questioning his motives and leading to more things for him to write later on. It's self-perpetuating job security.

I do feel, at least a little bit, that the eruption of English as a literary study genera is kind of like what the creation of internet blogs did for the poetry world. Go check out my emo poetry blog for further intel.

Despite that, I found the sterylization of literary studies pretty peculiar here. I was floored by Edward Freeman's statement that English could not revert to pure literary studies because "examiners must have technical and positive information to examine" (that was on page 14 for those of you who are keeping score). Technicalizing literature? Count me out. I think I fall somewhere in between the liberal humanists and the critical theorists. Context is important, and looking at literature from a specific analytic angle can be fascinating, but when reading I tend to ignore contexts (other than the ones I superimpose--it's human nature to warp our vision of things until we can relate) . While I read the text, I don't look for certain things. For me, critical theorist-type analysis often comes later.

Okay. That's it. That was a lot of literary theory in a short amount of time and my poor brain needs rest.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

testing 1 2 3

This is the super boring first post for my new class blog. Later I'll actually play with formatting and post something of substance; for now, you must look elsewhere on the internet for entertainment. I'm sure you'll manage somehow.