Q&A Question #2: Is it appropriate to use “he”, “she”, and “who” to describe characters? Ought we instead to use “it” and “that”?
The words we use to describe something can alter our perceptions of that thing. The example with which I am most familiar is in which words we use to describe animals; if I give my cat a name (Stormy) and say things about her like "she went outside" and "Stormy is a cat who likes to sleep", then these pronouns bolster my seeing her as an animal with personhood status. I am therefore more likely to treat her with the respect she deserves. If, however, I do not give my cat a name, say that "it went outside" etc., my perception will be altered so that I do not see my cat as a person, but rather as a thing to be treated however I like (as a side note, saying "my cat" does not necessarily imply ownership, any more than I own my grandmother or my boyfriend).
Let us now apply this phenomenon to characters in a literary work. I noticed that in "Fictional Characters as Abstract Artifacts," Amie Thomasson writes "a fictional character can go on existing without its author..." (145). Thomasson describes a character as an "it" rather than a "he" or "she". Since characters do not exist in the real world, do not suffer, do not have rights, etc., ought we to use "it" when describing them? I think that we indeed ought to whenever we are not trying to suspend our disbelief to become engrossed in a story. This will anchor our occasional perceptions of characters as real beings into a perception of characters as imaginary. Using "it" is not intuitive; we will naturally want to say "she" when describing Anna Karenina and "he" when describing Captain Ahab. I think, however, that purposefully saying "it" instead (especially during classroom discussions about characters) will remind us that we are not discussing real people.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Emotional Responses to Fiction
I like Ralph Clark’s view (paraphrased by Susan Feagin) that “Emotional responses to art are the result of entertaining various counterfactual conditionals” (186). In other words, our emotional responses to literature come from imagining that same set of circumstances happening to yourself or to someone you know. This is a possible explanation for why fictional characters who are in a situation you have once found yourself in, or perhaps remind you of your father, are so much more emotionally potent.
Radford’s fifth solution objects this idea. He says that when we weep for Anna Karenina, “we weep for her” (174), not for the situation applied to any person. Since Anna Karenina does not exist, this is not an adequate solution to the problem of emotional response to literature. However, I disagree; I do not think the reader weeps for Anna Karenina. The reader knows she does not exist, can not suffer, and is therefore weeping out of empathy and an active imagination.
Radford’s fifth solution objects this idea. He says that when we weep for Anna Karenina, “we weep for her” (174), not for the situation applied to any person. Since Anna Karenina does not exist, this is not an adequate solution to the problem of emotional response to literature. However, I disagree; I do not think the reader weeps for Anna Karenina. The reader knows she does not exist, can not suffer, and is therefore weeping out of empathy and an active imagination.
Emotions in Role-Playing
Q&A Question #1: 1. What is the nature of emotion in role playing?
People sometimes assume a pretend role (e.g. in acting, role-playing games, etc.). How real the person feels in that pretend role depends on a few factors, including the verisimilitude of the situation, how well the person researches and develops that pretend role, how well the person can identify with the role, etc. Some people become very attached to their roles, will genuinely cry during emotional moments, or feel real anger when their character has been betrayed.
People who role play (as with authors) will speak about their characters as a separate person; e.g., when recounting an event in a role-playing game, one will say, "Darius went into the tavern..." rather than "I went into the tavern..." There is a distinction between the real person and the character they are portraying.
These roles, like characters in a work of fiction, do not exist in the real world.
Are there elements of role-playing when we read a work of fiction? Does the reader imagine herself as the protagonist, and get so caught up in the protagonist's life that their two lives become momentarily indistinguishable?
People sometimes assume a pretend role (e.g. in acting, role-playing games, etc.). How real the person feels in that pretend role depends on a few factors, including the verisimilitude of the situation, how well the person researches and develops that pretend role, how well the person can identify with the role, etc. Some people become very attached to their roles, will genuinely cry during emotional moments, or feel real anger when their character has been betrayed.
People who role play (as with authors) will speak about their characters as a separate person; e.g., when recounting an event in a role-playing game, one will say, "Darius went into the tavern..." rather than "I went into the tavern..." There is a distinction between the real person and the character they are portraying.
These roles, like characters in a work of fiction, do not exist in the real world.
Are there elements of role-playing when we read a work of fiction? Does the reader imagine herself as the protagonist, and get so caught up in the protagonist's life that their two lives become momentarily indistinguishable?
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Copy Cat
Amie Thomasson contends that two different writers who create the same work, word for word, have not created the same piece of literature. This is because "a literary work is best conceived not as an abstract sequence of words but as an artifact that had to be created in those original circumstances in which it was created" (Thomasson 146). This seems to rely too heavily on the theory of New Historicism, which contends that one must understand the historical context and zeitgeist of when a work was written in order to understand the work. While this may be more important for some books than for others (it is, as Thomasson says, crucial to understand that Animal Farm is a satire), I think this does not leave room for modern readings of a text. While it is important to understand the age a work was written in, it is also important to understand the context and zeitgeist of the age in which the modern reader is reading.
Standards of Non-Fiction
Must non-fiction meet standards of literary value?
Our introduction to the "Fiction" section says that "Although works of nonfiction are readily accepted and taught as literature, they are more of a rarity...it is not clear why nonfiction has a more marginal status, but it does. Fiction, on the other hand, takes in much more than works of literature, because fiction can be nonverbal in form...and because it need not meet even minimal standards for literary value..." (109)
It seems to me that non-fiction can have both of these components, as well. Non-fiction can certainly be nonverbal; the same way seeing shapes in clouds can be fiction, me placing my hands across my throat to indicate that I'm choking can be non-fictional, non-verbal communication. Non-fiction also need not meet any standards for literary value; just as there is fiction that isn't literature (like some comic books), there is non-fiction that isn't literature (like my shopping list). While these elements are important, they are not useful distinctions between fiction and non-fiction.
Our introduction to the "Fiction" section says that "Although works of nonfiction are readily accepted and taught as literature, they are more of a rarity...it is not clear why nonfiction has a more marginal status, but it does. Fiction, on the other hand, takes in much more than works of literature, because fiction can be nonverbal in form...and because it need not meet even minimal standards for literary value..." (109)
It seems to me that non-fiction can have both of these components, as well. Non-fiction can certainly be nonverbal; the same way seeing shapes in clouds can be fiction, me placing my hands across my throat to indicate that I'm choking can be non-fictional, non-verbal communication. Non-fiction also need not meet any standards for literary value; just as there is fiction that isn't literature (like some comic books), there is non-fiction that isn't literature (like my shopping list). While these elements are important, they are not useful distinctions between fiction and non-fiction.
Truth in Non-Fiction
Q&A Question #2: Does an element of fiction taint a work of non-fiction? That is, if a work is almost entirely non-fictional, but has one fictional element, should we call the work fiction or non-fiction?
This certainly does not work in the reverse; elements of non-fiction do not taint works of fiction.
It seems, though, that a work claiming to be non-fictional should strive not to have any fictional elements. It also seems relevant whether or not the author intended the elements to be fictional, which is to say whether or not he knew they were fictional. Perhaps, as a lie needs intent to deceive, fiction must be intended to be fiction.
It does, however, seem next to impossible not to include elements of writing which stray from the absolute truth of what really happened. In putting the event into writing, the author puts her own style into the piece; she chooses what to include and what not to include. We never can see a perfectly full recollection of past events.
I think that an author should strive not to include fictional elements in a work of non-fiction, as that further skews the reality of the story, and is somewhat of a lie to the readers.
This certainly does not work in the reverse; elements of non-fiction do not taint works of fiction.
It seems, though, that a work claiming to be non-fictional should strive not to have any fictional elements. It also seems relevant whether or not the author intended the elements to be fictional, which is to say whether or not he knew they were fictional. Perhaps, as a lie needs intent to deceive, fiction must be intended to be fiction.
It does, however, seem next to impossible not to include elements of writing which stray from the absolute truth of what really happened. In putting the event into writing, the author puts her own style into the piece; she chooses what to include and what not to include. We never can see a perfectly full recollection of past events.
I think that an author should strive not to include fictional elements in a work of non-fiction, as that further skews the reality of the story, and is somewhat of a lie to the readers.
Fiction & Coherence
Q&A Question #1: Does fiction adhere to a coherence theory of truth?
Truth as coherence is when a statement coheres with other statements (word-word). Truth as correspondence is when a statement corresponds with the way the world works (word-world).
In a work of fiction, a statement does not need to correspond with the world (and often doesn't, like with works of science fiction), but does need to cohere with other statements within the work. This is similar to what Nicole mentioned in class about when an author writes an inconsistency. An author sets down statements or rules that govern the world of her work of fiction, and then must take care to have the rest of her statements cohere with those rules.
In class, DKJ said that with fiction there is "lots of stuff going on, but none of it is in the world." All of the goings-on occur in the mind of the reader. However, once the signs on the page enter the reader's mind, and plants an idea there, those signs can create a behavior change. In some small way, then, I think the reality of a book can transfer over to the reality of our world.
Truth as coherence is when a statement coheres with other statements (word-word). Truth as correspondence is when a statement corresponds with the way the world works (word-world).
In a work of fiction, a statement does not need to correspond with the world (and often doesn't, like with works of science fiction), but does need to cohere with other statements within the work. This is similar to what Nicole mentioned in class about when an author writes an inconsistency. An author sets down statements or rules that govern the world of her work of fiction, and then must take care to have the rest of her statements cohere with those rules.
In class, DKJ said that with fiction there is "lots of stuff going on, but none of it is in the world." All of the goings-on occur in the mind of the reader. However, once the signs on the page enter the reader's mind, and plants an idea there, those signs can create a behavior change. In some small way, then, I think the reality of a book can transfer over to the reality of our world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)