Yvonne Jocks's Blog: Writer Working OverTime

Rant: In Defense of Literary Analysis

Have you seen the Blue Curtain meme? A writing page to which I subscribe, on FaceBook, posted a somewhat funny meme with a Venn Diagram: "What the author meant versus what your English teacher thinks the author meant." The teacher analyzes blue curtains as symbolizing depression but, per the meme, the author meant simply that the curtains were effing blue.

Like I said -- somewhat funny. As several comments note, it puts us in mind of Kurt Vonnegut's hilarious cameo in Rodney Dangerfield's Back to School.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQnAh...

But here's the thing: The Lit teacher being sent up in that movie was meant to be elitist. She wasn't meant to represent all instructors of Literature!

Full disclosure: I not only write novels. I teach literature.

What depresses the hell out of me is how many of the hundreds of comments (349 so far) use this meme to mock the stupidity of literary analysis in general. So, rather than write an essay in a comment box, I've come here to defend it.

To defend literary analysis, not the meme.

Do many authors write on the literal and not the figurative/symbolic level? Sure -- and most teachers do not then try to seek hidden meanings in that work. Do some instructors overdo analysis, or miss the point? I'm sure some do, just as some doctors misdiagnose and some advertisers strike out. I am very sorry that this happens, and that some students have to some extent been taught to dislike analysis.

However, just as many instructors, probably more, are simply trying to teach readers how to read between the lines--and choose well-written works that really do have symbolism and subtext to be discovered.

In other words, just because you do not see what the English teacher sees does not mean the English teacher is the one who is mistaken.

So: Here are answers to some of the more common comments about this meme:

1. Why do English teachers ruin everything? Why can't I just enjoy the story without having to analyze it?

Short answer? Because it's a literary analysis class. When you read for fun, on your own time, you get to read however you like. But if you're in a class, you're supposed to be learning something. You can also enjoy driving your car without worrying about what makes it run, but if you take an auto-mechanics class, you'd best prepare to learn what the distributor cap does.

2. Didn't Hemingway say that a fish is just a fish, or Frost say "The Road Not Taken" is only about a road or something?

I don't think so -- Hemingway in particular is famous for never describing anything that doesn't have symbolic significance. Several smart comments produce the correct quote -- that Freud once said that "a cigar is sometimes just a cigar."

He probably did not say that: http://quoteinvestigator.com/2011/08/...

However, even if he had, Freud was talking about dream analysis, not literary analysis. Presumably, authors have more control over what they put into their writings than one's subconscious has over what appears in their dreams.

3. Does it even matter what the author meant? Isn't the real point what the reader gets out of the work?

Don't be fooled by false dichotomy. Especially when you are learning to analyze literature, they both matter.

4. Yes, but how does anyone know what the author really meant, especially years after their death?

Because the author was just that clever, and some of the readers are just that good. Also because, as with scientific experiments, the results can be duplicated. Clearly, not every set of curtains or doorway in a story are meant symbolically. But a good writer will give you clues to take a second look.

Clues that something might be meant symbolically:
-It's mentioned in the title
-It's mentioned in the first or last paragraph
-It's commented upon by characters
-It shows up at a climactic moment in the story

In other words, If the short story were called "The Blue Curtains," chances are the author meant them to symbolize something. If a character several times refers to them -- "Perhaps I should have gotten white curtains, but the blue ones... they just spoke to me" or "Why in the world did you choose blue, Madge?" -- then they may well be symbolic. If, as a character dies, she focuses on the blue curtains fluttering in the breeze?

You get the idea.

Anthologies and Literature classes choose works specifically because there is something to be found in those stories. "Hills Like White Elephants" really is about abortion, and "The Yellow Wallpaper" really is about post-partum depression, and the weather in Kate Chopin's "The Storm" really does symbolize passion.

5. Why does it matter? As I mentioned at the top -- I found this meme on a FaceBook page for writers. Not all writers need to use symbolism or subtext, but should we not all respect that some writers do, and that they are excellent tools in our creative toolbox?

Lets my rant become a whine, I'd like to note that a comment I made, defending literary analysis, has over a hundred "likes." But as you can see -- I had much more than a mere comment to make.

Often, so do writers of literature.

My Working Birthday

Does anyone else blur the lines between work and fun?

On the one hand: what a great problem to have! I once worked a corporate job where I carried my lunch to my car, for a half hour of escape every day, I hated it so much. Since then, as a community college instructor, I've learned that even when I adore what I do? I still look forward to weekends.

On the other hand, there's the writing.

Case in point? This weekend I celebrated my 50th birthday. I had the Birthday Girl privilege of choice. And what I wanted was a day of western research for my cattle drive work-in-progress.

My good friends Sally and Juliet accompanied me, which really added the fun. We went to Fort Worth's Cattle Raisers Museum first. I read about pancakes being called "slap dabs" and appreciated what it feels like to stand next to a real (if stuffed) longhorn. The brands, the saddles, the maps... I took it in like I would sunshine, knowing it would power me through more scenes and chapters.

Then we went to the Stockyards and, before the daily cattle drive down Exchange Avenue, I had my picture taken with Big Jake, a live longhorn steer. I felt the smooth, dry weight of his horns, and scritched behind his ears, and smelled him. Then came the cattle drive itself, the yips of the cowboys, the slow stroll of the beeves.

I. Had. A. Blast! A partially tax-deductible blast. And I know that, if we'd just gone to the movies, I wouldn't have taken such satisfaction in the day. (Unless we'd seen a western?) The fact that this was connected to my book added to the experience. But not, I think, just because I needn't feel guilt for not having been focused on my story.

I don't feel guilty when I do non-story-oriented things. I feel impatient, anxious to get back to what really matters. This weekend, my friends validated those mixed feelings, and I love them for it.

But seriously. Is this blurring of the lines completely weird?

It's 2 am -- Do You Know Where Your Time Went?

Only baby boomers (and older) are going to get the reference in that title, aren't they? Hint: It was an old public service announcement about "where your children are."

It's also, in my case, true. As of the last two weeks, during which I published OverTime 2 (Turning) and put OverTime 1 (Searching) out for 4 free days, I am recommitting to my writing career. I let it slide pretty seriously after my first 20 published books... but more on that in a different entry.

Here's tonight's issue: To get Book 3 out by the end of the year, I want to write at least 2 hours/day. And my best writing time is when I first get up. So I'm hoping to get up by 10 every morning and write until noon, at which point I'll get ready for my full-time teaching job. I'm at school from about 1:30 to 9:00 pm every day (night classes!) By the time I get home I can do email and such, but rarely writing.

Especially when the time slips away so very, very quickly! To get up at 10 am, I should be in bed by 2 am, and it's already 2:12. HOW???

So who else runs into this problem of the Incredibly Vanishing Time Window? And why can't we find a good time travel solution?

To quote another older ad: Enquiring minds want to know.

Good night, all!