Posts Tagged ‘literary theory’

Literary Ramblings: Reading The Absence

Friday, November 6th, 2009

Reading the Absence

In his novel Waterland, Graham Swift suggests that history is a means of forgetting, the implication being that history is filled with narratives that are forgotten in favour of those that are recorded. Our history books are missing more than they have, but these absences can often serve to tell as much and sometimes even more than that which is present and it is this mode of reasoning that should always be carefully applied when we engage with the world around. A history of civil rights for example will be emblazoned with images and narratives of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., while the likes of: Ella Baker, the founder of the Student Non-violent Coordination Committee NCC’s (SNCC) and a consultant with the Southern Christian Leadership Council (SCLC), Constance Curry, Diane Nash and Ruby Doris Smith, are all relegated to the metaphoric index pages of history text books. The impact of these women in the civil rights movement is huge, but their absence from covers of history text books is not the least bit perplexing because speaks to and is evidence of the broader biases of the society that produces these text (the biased in this case being the Patriarchal Tradition of the Western World). Without questioning the absence of women in such historical headlines, one might assume that women simply did not play a prominent, or prevalent, or integral part in the civil rights movement, but nothing could be further from the truth and their absence speaks to broad social issues, not the least of which is the Patriarchal bias that poison traditional historical texts. Also missing from the headlines are the masses who made the movement successful. Countless people were arrested during “freedom rides” and “sit ins”, but their names too are missing, or at least dwell in the shadows of Jessie Jacksons and Malcolm Xs, and it is not because they did not contribute as much, but rather because Western history is as poisoned by a hierarchical bias as it is by a patriarchal one, meaning that the leaders, who are often responding to, and/or acting on behalf of the masses, are often given more than their share of the credit for the success of a particular movement. The civil rights movement is just an example. There are always a multiplicity of factors that have helped to bring any given moment to fruition, but not all are represented (indeed a truly comprehensive narrative on any topic is impossible to achieve). In the news headlines, in history books, in novels, and movies, and music and in art, there are always things that people choose to include and things which they choose (consciously or not) to exclude, and that which is excluded can often speak more than that which is included. Artists use negative space just as film makers keep some things off screen and writers are careful as to what to show their readers. A doctor or detective can diagnose or determine a mystery sometimes by noting what is not present in the context of what is present. That which is excluded is that which is absent, and reading the absent, reading the absence, being aware of it, and questioning it, is integral to understanding the world around us. It makes us aware of our own ignorance and that is the first step to gaining enlightenment as we cannot become enlightened until we are aware of our own ignorance. So the next time you read a book, or a news paper, or watch a movie, or the news, listen for all those things that aren’t said.

Literary Ramblings: Literature Is A Rorschach Test

Thursday, November 5th, 2009

Literature Is A Rorschach Test

Dr. Hermann Rorschach, essentially working under the premise that everything is a self-portrait, developed his renowned inkblot test which employs ambiguous designs (ambiguous that is with the exception of Card VI which is not the least bit vague) with the aim of engaging, and evoking a response from the subject in order to then analyse the subject’s perceptions of the seemingly indistinct images. Words on the page are not always as ambiguous as Rorschach’s ink blots are meant to be, and in fact truly great writers carefully craft their writing, placing precise intent into each word selection. Though not as ambiguous as the Rorschach ink blots, literature, being expressly dependant on the reader/author relationship, is not dissimilar to the Rorschach test and very much depends on the reader, who is not entirely unlike the subject of the Rorschach test in that both the subject and the reader are expected to have a response, and that the response will be formed and framed by the reader’s/subject’s perceptions. The reader’s responses are not meant to be analyzed of course, but the responses will still be shaded by the individual’s perceptions and will be a reflection of the reader; a self-portrait of sorts. In 1999, for example, when then mayor of New York Rudy Giuliani saw the art exhibit “Sensation”, and claimed that the piece Holy Virgin Mary (a depiction of the Mother Mary that incorporated elephant dung, a traditional Africa method of artistry) was “anti-Catholic”, his statement spoke less to the actual piece and more to Giuliani’s ignorance of art history and culture’s outside of his own. His response was reactionary, weighed down by faulty assumptions and devoid of critical thinking and contemplation. If Giuliani had been an active participant, an active viewer, if he had stopped to ask questions to fill the void left by his ignorance and correct the misperceptions created by his faulty assumptions, then he could have walked away from the piece with a better understanding. Instead his comments illustrated how ignorant he was on such matters. Much as art requires an active viewer, literature requires an active reader. If the reader is to come away from a piece with a strong understanding of a given work, the reader must go past their initial response, the reactionary corollary and consider the implications suggested by the text, the questions it poses, and any possible alternate readings. This means more than simply examining what is present in the text, as the reader must, for example, pay attention to “the absence”, because what an author chooses to exclude from a given work, what remains absent, is as important as what the author chooses to include. Likewise it is important to read “the negative”, to examine the thesis presented and polarize it, consider its antithesis, or negative, because even when the antithesis is not explicitly defined and outlined, it is ever present and in the case of the unreliable narrator, reading “the absence” and considering “the negative reading”, and reflecting on what is not on the page can offer as much insight into a piece as what is on the page. Some works evoke a reactionary response, and while some writers may create a work with the express intent to invoke a reaction, others have purposes other than simple shock when writing on potentially volatile themes. If the reader/subject is not an active participant and does not consider “the absence” and “the negative reading”, they may fail to engage in the key aspects of a given work and their response may speak to their own reactionary tendencies and limits as a reader, rather than the characteristics of the given work.