Literatre and its Criticism: The Dialectic

[oshima]

First of all, I misspelled literature to get your attention (actually, an extremely careless typo)! Wanted to talk about how and why one should read literary criticism and formal analysis. I find it insightful, rewarding, and good fun to see what other people have to say about my favorite works, especially if they come up with an interpretation I never would have thought of or puts forth a brilliant analysis that I completely disagree with. It's also interesting when favorite authors analyze other favorite authors. (I'm thinking here an essay by Nabokov about Chekhov's prose and narrative style.) Also, I once read a hilarious review of Ulysses by the psychoanalyst C.G. Jung that had me in hysterical tears after about ten minutes with it...

One thing I am careful about, however, is the influence the criticism can have on your reading experience, so I generally like to spend a considerable amount of time digesting and taking notes on a particular artists work before I head to work (the library) to check on the latest Bloom's modern critical views or whatever is on hand. The exception I make -that is the exception of reading the analysis first- is for Shakespearean works or works from antiquity and the middle ages, because having a basic background is key for enjoying a work such as, say, the Orestia or The Metamorphoses, to the fullest extent.

So if you want to share opinions or anecdotes about literary criticism, please be my guest.

Lastly, has anyone else felt that is was redundant to read literary criticism about Borges?

[Brock]

I agree that some historical or old literature can become a lot more interesting after hitting the critical responses: you can understand a lot more of what exactly is going on.

But with Shakespeare, I think the best way to experience his plays (and especially for the first time) is to simply go to the theatre and watch one (or get a decent adaptation on DVD). This is especially true, I find, with his comedies. I think there is some sort of hyper-exaggerated idea of the apparent difficulty of reading Shakespeare. The other day, I watched the Merchant of Venice. And I watched it without thinking of any critical response in mind - just simply watching it for enjoyment, as it is meant to be experienced (in fact, I've never really studied this play at all). The general ideas that Shakespeare gives us are first best appreciated untainted by the humdrum of argument and theory. Even to a point - I'm sticking my neck out here - it is best without even any social and historical context in mind. Just the play, the actual jokes, the humour, the pathos, the fairytale elements, the sex-change scenarios. They're just so pleasurable/funny/tragic on their own. To me this is the first layer of appreciating Shakespeare. Then, one can get gritty; you can delve into the history, the intricacies of language and form, etc. That's another level of interest. But, to me, I find that literary criticism and formal analysis is excellent, but it is possible that it can get in the way of pure enjoyment on the level of just kicking back on a Saturday evening with a beer and just enjoying Shakespeare because he makes you laugh, or cry, or feel something.

[hanzklein]

Also, I once read a hilarious review of Ulysses by the psychoanalyst C.G. Jung that had me in hysterical tears after about ten minutes with it...


Care to link it? I recall he thought Joyce was schizophrenic.

[oshima]

I agree that some historical or old literature can become a lot more interesting after hitting the critical responses: you can understand a lot more of what exactly is going on.
But with Shakespeare, I think the best way to experience his plays (and especially for the first time) is to simply go to the theatre and watch one (or get a decent adaptation on DVD). This is especially true, I find, with his comedies. I think there is some sort of hyper-exaggerated idea of the apparent difficulty of reading Shakespeare.


Oh yes, I agree actually. I usually watch a Shakespear production on video: my first exposure to Hamlet and Merchant of Venice were Kenneth Brannagh (sic) and Al Pacino. However, there are alot of details, mainly historical, that Elizibethan audiences were expected to know that I wouldn't. Issac Asimov's Guide to Shakespeare illustrated this for me in many ways, esp. in the case of the idea that Hamlet's hesitation had less to to with his thinking too much and failing to act, but rather with his looking for the right time to userp the throne. Also, with the histories themselves, it is interesting to see what Shakespeare did with the "real" histories of his country that he had access to.

[oshima]

Care to link it? I recall he thought Joyce was schizophrenic.

I did a quick search for the essay Jung wrote but I couldnt find it (I read it at my college's library in a multivolume complilation of all of Jungs writings) but I found this letter Jung wrote to Joyce:

Dear Sir,

Your Ulysses has presented the world such an upsetting psychological problem, that repeatedly I have been called in as a supposed authority on psychological matters.

Ulysses proved to be an exceedingly hard nut and it has forced my mind not only to most unusual efforts, but also to rather extravagant peregrinations (speaking from the standpoint of a scientist). Your book as a whole has given me no end of trouble and I was brooding over it for about three years until I succeeded to put myself into it. But I must tell you that I’m profoundly grateful to yourself as well as to your gigantic opus, because I learned a great deal from it. I shall probably never be quite sure whether I did enjoy it, because it meant too much grinding of nerves and of grey matter. I also don’t know whether you will enjoy what I have written about Ulysses because I couldn’t help telling the world how much I was bored, how I grumbled, how I cursed and how I admired. The 40 pages of non stop run at the end is a string of veritable psychological peaches. I suppose the devil’s grandmother knows so much about the real psychology of a woman, I didn’t.

Well I just try to recommend my little essay to you, as an amusing attempt of a perfect stranger that went astray in the labyrinth of your Ulysses and happened to get out of it again by sheer good luck. At all events you may gather from my article what Ulysses has done to a supposedly balanced psychologist.

With the expression of my deepest appreciation, I remain, dear Sir,

Yours faithfully,
C.G. Jung

[Brock]

Oh yes, I agree actually. I usually watch a Shakespear production on video: my first exposure to Hamlet and Merchant of Venice were Kenneth Brannagh (sic) and Al Pacino. However, there are alot of details, mainly historical, that Elizibethan audiences were expected to know that I wouldn't. Issac Asimov's Guide to Shakespeare illustrated this for me in many ways, esp. in the case of the idea that Hamlet's hesitation had less to to with his thinking too much and failing to act, but rather with his looking for the right time to userp the throne. Also, with the histories themselves, it is interesting to see what Shakespeare did with the "real" histories of his country that he had access to.

Good point. His histories do make a lot more sense, and become a lot more enjoyable to watch, when you become aware of these intracies. I certainly found that with Richard II. I must get a copy of Asimov's Guide to Shakespeare. Just had a look on amazon and the reviews look promising indeed!

[Brock]

I shall probably never be quite sure whether I did enjoy it, because it meant too much grinding of nerves and of grey matter. I also don’t know whether you will enjoy what I have written about Ulysses because I couldn’t help telling the world how much I was bored, how I grumbled, how I cursed and how I admired. [/I]

Excellent! Just goes to show that you love what you hate and hate what you love. I felt that way when I was studying George Eliot for a dissertation. After a while, I felt nauseous at the thought of wading through her texts again and again, but after I'd finished it, I just wanted to get back on it.