Looking through the blog topics, I have noticed that no one has yet started a thread about our current question: “What should we read?” In discussing Arnold and Leavis, the two big topics in class were “can there be standards?” as well as “is there such a thing as greatness?” What we didn’t talk about and what I have been thinking about lately is the ramifications of taking the opposites of these questions. What I wonder is, how can there NOT be standards for literature? and, also, is there such a thing as “poorness” in literature? My guess is that, when you just read these questions, you immediately agree that there is no way that literature has NO standards and also, most people would probably agree that there is definitely such a thing as poor writing. If this is correct, then I don’t understand how people can argue that there is no way to discern standards for great writing. Anyone who was sitting in the middle group: can you explain? I believe that there MUST be at least some base set of standards! And, also, there seemed to be a lot of confusion on exactly what “great” means. If we can easily define “poor,” then why can we not do the same for “great?” If everyone could volunteer their thoughts on this, I think that it would be a very helpful discussion for everyone!
~ Kristen
8 comments:
In literature today I believe there is definitely a base set of standards. That doesn't mean there should be necessarily, but I do believe that society has constructed some. I'm not sure whether anyone knows exactly what these are and they probably do cover a vast array of qualifications. However, how can enough people agree on a set of standards to make them legitimized? Even in our class, everyone in the room was split as to decide what standards should be included, which shouldn't, how broad they should be and if they should even be written. And yet somehow, I still agree that there should exist some set of standards. I feel that much of these lie somewhere in the realm of the quality and complexity of the writing itself along with the multiplicity of interpretations that one can deduce. But even in saying this, I know that someone will be able to refute anything I try to define because there will always be exceptions and some works will have importance in ways different from others. I feel like this all goes back to Derrida and the center that doesn't have its center at the center. If we can define what a fairy tale with this method maybe we could try to define what is 'good literature' in the same way. However, I also still think there should be a distinction between literature that is great in a literary sense and that which is great for its entertainment qualities.
First, i'm not sure we're asking the right question when we say "what should we read?" because, as mary kate pointed out monday in class, what we enjoy reading is definitely not always great literature. so maybe the question isn't what should we be reading, but simply what merits this distinction of greatness (which i think is what we've been looking at anyways). I agree with Kristen; i'd say we all definitely have standards for greatness, even if we have difficulty articulating what they are. i mean, how many times have we read something and felt that it was something other than great? i think the reason we start getting confused is when, as mary kate suggested, we are enjoying things that we know are not "great literature," and not enjoying things that we know are (or at least should be). i think this merits making an important distinction between "great literature" and a "good book" that's just plain fun to read. for me, this distinction is easier to see when looking at something besides literature, like film. i have two favorite movies-- the shawshank redemption and notting hill. i love them both, but would anyone argue with me if i said that notting hill is not a great film, but shawshank is? why are they different? for this example, i'd say there's a difference in depth. one tells an entertaining story, but the other holds deep messages that keep us thinking and questioning long after the movie's over. i'd say this is an important quality to bring to the debate about great literature--what literature resonates something in us that hangs on long after we've gotten over the initial enjoyment of a "good read"? While this isn't the only defining characteristic, i'd say it's important.
Here's the thing: you guys agree that there should be standards, but you all admit that we will probably never agree on a formal set of standards. That makes them fairly meaningless, doesn't it? Unmeasurable and indefinable standards are the same as no standards at all.
Greatness, like a lot of artistic issues, is relative. I may think that the Shawshank Redemption is great and Notting Hill is Hugh-Grant-riddled trash, and you might think the opposite. There's no rubric that exists to prove you wrong, and nothing to prove I'm correct. Because everything is nebulous, there's nowhere concrete to stand, no position that stays relevant.
Works lose their relevance over time; language changes, the issues of society change, everything changes. Some argue that there are permanent issues, and these are what define great literature: love, death, God, etcetera. But these may not last forever, and every culture has addressed them differently. Romeo and Juliet would read like a comedy to a polygamous culture. Nothing lasts forever, and nothing is wholly and completely relevant. Even if %100 of people think something is great, that doesn't mean it is empirically, unarguably great, because no true standard exists or can exist to measure it so.
These are some really great questions, and I certainly don't have an answer to any of them. The more I hear about standards, and what defines great literature, I can't help but go back to Fish. It's so tempting to say greatness is subjective, but I still find myself saying there are some books that are just great, I can't explain why, but they just are. And then I think- oh no! Darn you interpretive communities! Most of us agree that there are great works of literature, and that we can pick out some of them, even without a clear explanation as to why. My fear is that all of this is because we have been conditioned to regard certain books and authors as the end all be all, the best of the best. Shakespeare anyone? We've touched on this in class, but I really want to know what everyone things. If we were honest with ourselves, do interpretive communities explain our readiness to label certain works as great without being able to clearly explain why?
Yeah, that should definitely say: what everyone thinks, not things.
We all have standards for what makes a piece of literature great, but we may not be able to fully explain what those standards are, or how we came about believing in those standards. I personally would like to believe that the reason this is the case is because of the interpretive communities we belong to. We have grown up and were conditioned a certain way, to believe that these texts we call great are really great. Would anyone here actually believe on their own accord that Shakespeare was great if they hadn’t been told from Jr. High that Shakespeare was great? We would probably just think of him as a guy that lived a long time ago who happened to write a lot of plays in England.
Another example of this I think can be seen under this very discussion. Amy described Notting Hill as being one of her favorite movies, because it tells an entertaining story. Joe then said that Notting Hill is Hugh-Grant-riddled trash. Is this perhaps because Amy and Joe are in different interpretive communities? Was Amy, because she is in the female interpretive community allowed to admit to liking and being entertained by a Hugh Grant love movie, but not Joe because he’s not in that community? The point I’m trying to make is that greatness is subjective to the individual, but even more, it is a result of the conditioning of our interpretive communities. What is good, and what is great has been taught to us since we started learning literature in school, which is why we all say we know certain works are great, but can’t put into words why.
I have to agree with Megan and Kim on this. I don't think anyone will every be able to pinpoint 'great.' There are some works, such as Shakespeare and Homer, that are almost universally seen as 'great.' BUT, there are some people that do not attribute the title of 'great' to these works. I believe that our interpretive communities help to shape what we deem great, and that is why we can agree and disagree with others about which works are great and which are less than that. Also, Mary Kate had a great point when she said something can be considered great to a person because they enjoy it, but they recognize that in comparison to other works it is not 'great.' At the same time, that person can dislike an almost universally accepted 'great' work and still attribute the title of 'great' to it because of some set of standards which I am not going to even attempt to define.
Megan put forth an interesting question: If we were honest with ourselves, do interpretive communities explain our readiness to label certain works as great without being able to clearly explain why? I don't think so. One interpretive community may contend that a literary work is great if it somehow alters the lives of its readers (perhaps reading "Mountains Beyond Mountains," for example, may inspire readers to embark on missionary journeys of their own). Another community may define a work as great if it generously uses figuratuve language.
If asked to justify their contentions, one of the potential many explanations may likely be that "It just seems right." I'm not sure that we'll ever arrive at one agreed-upon rubric titled "These are the Standards of Great Literature," simply because the ideas from each interpretive community are in some way skewed.
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