Saturday, January 14, 2012

Integrating Literary Scholarship with Twitter



[Cross-posted at Literature and Wordplay.]


To any literary scholars reading:  what ramifications could this study have outside of the sciences, such as in the humanities?  What options are available for using hashtags--#Shakespeare, #Hawthorne, #ToniMorrison, #JunotDiaz—to advertise well written journal articles that should be read and cited?  Could there be hurdles to having the same kind of success integrating Twitter with literary studies, such as budget cuts towards the purchase of online or tangible copies of literature journals?

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

What Defines Literature?


[Cross-posted at Literature and Wordplay.]

Madeline Crum at The Huffington Post asks what defines "literary fiction."  While Crum considers this definition for the benefit of booksellers, I want to add to this business approach from a literary analytical perspective. 


I have taught the introductory course to the English major and minor, explaining how my university organizes the program and showing how the tools of literary analysis can be applied to a variety of texts, not only works traditionally thought to be literature--short stories, novels, fictional texts, poems, and plays and films--but also visual texts like comic books and graphic novels (plug for my other site) and untraditional works.  I define "literature" as any text that can be subjected to literary analysis, as I will explain below.  The definitions are numerous, but as Crum points out, perhaps multiple definitions, similar to an online tagging experience, can expand how we define literature while not undermining the ways in which we read literature.


The following definitions from "literature" are adapted from Jonathan Culler's excellent summary for the Oxford Very Short series, Literary Theory:  A Very Short Introduction.


A work of literature fulfills one or more of the following—even if these characteristics of literature are contradictory:

1)    Literature is a form of writing:  It is a verb, and it accomplishes something.

Literature has to give us something of significance—a bit of information, a new way of seeing the world, a reason for why it is important. 


2)    Literature is an adjective:  It describes the way something is read.

As listed below, any text can be read as a work of literature should you use methods of literary analysis--including but not limited to meter and rhythm, narrative point of view,
rhyme, textual organization and visual shape, and tone.  Even translating a text requires word choices that can alter the information provided, say, originally in Spanish and now defined in Japanese. 


3)    Literature is a narrative, a story, or a history.

Literature tells a story that organizes a set of events or a set of information into a form that is understandable for readers.  Literature does not have to be the truth; it can be made of facts, but those facts don’t have to be accurate.  The story does not have to be exactly what happened or what we have come to call “non-fictional”; the events can be re-organized for easier comprehension or for greater interest and emotion. 

Literature can include non-fiction and history; in fact, the word “history” derives from the same Latin word for “story,” as history is only a set of events organized into a narrative.


4)    Literature is the totalization of all knowledge in some field, hence a philosophy of some discipline.  It is also the introduction to a culture and its people, in contemporary life or the in the past. 

Before the nineteenth century, “literature” referred to all information pertaining to some study—the literature of history, the literature of science, the literature of mathematics.  Although this definition is obsolete, it nevertheless reminds us that we can apply literary analysis to any text:  to a math textbook, to a historical document, to a scientific report, to a newspaper article, to a comic book, to a cereal box, to a television show. 

As a body of knowledge, literature also mimics what you see in everyday life:  what the United States looks like, how a small section of Mississippi really is, how someone actually lives in China, what poverty is really like in the 1930s, how we would really behave in a parallel universe where Charles Lindberg was president or where humans evolved into mer-men.  Literature reveals human behavior, human cultures, and human societies. 

Whether the descriptions of the characters are accurate or even offensive on the basis of race, sex, sexuality, or religion, the text reveals the biases of that author and hence the reality that author saw of his or her world—and maybe how other persons saw that world.  As such, literature can offend us but can lead us to recognize proper ethics, and to hold that much more strongly to our own convictions. 


5)    Literature is art and hence is useless—it provides only pleasure, hence only itself and nothing else.

Plato, Augustine, and many scholars condemned literature for making readers sympathize with fictional persons rather than focusing on the real world.  Some of these scholars treated overindulgence of literature as a sin.

Literature is only a piece of entertainment, no different from a movie, a video game, or a comic book—it is a distraction from the real world and the things that really matter in our lives:  our family, our friends, our politics, our environment, our world. 

Literature does not give you a moral.  Literature does not give you information.  Literature does not produce anything.  Literature is enjoyed only for itself. 


6)    Literature is the study of word choice in rhetoric and performance.

When George W. Bush uses “freedom,” how does he define the word differently than Barack Obama?

When Kenneth Brannan emphasizes “To be or not to be” in his version of Hamlet, how does his reading of the line differ from that of Mel Gibson?  Or when a performance of Hamlet uses the soliloquy from the first published (but unauthorized and inaccurate) printed addition of the play—“To be or not to be, ah, that’s the rub”—what changes in the story of the play or the meter of the speech?


7)    Literature de-familiarizes form and content:  it makes your world, your life, yourself seem different. 

Emily Dickinson uses the color blue to describe a fly’s buzz to make you see (hear?) that action differently, through synesthesia, confusing of one sense (vision) for another (sound).  William Faulkner tells you a story from the point of view of a mentally challenged adult in order to recognize events in a chronological order you had not anticipated.  Literature presents a newspaper article as a sonnet so that you can see the rhythm and form to non-fictional, prosaic writing. 

Literature is what keeps you awake all night wondering why your best friend used that word in his email—was he being sarcastic?  What tone of voice did he mean?  How does that word differ from any other one, and how do those words differ had you heard his voice on the phone or in person rather than in a piece of electronic writing?


8)    Literature is a lie.

If literature de-familiarizes your world, then it is giving you a lie—showing you life the way that you don’t see it. 

Literature and fiction are not the same thing, but looking at the latter word can clarify how we look at the former.  The etymology of the word “fiction” means “to make, to do,” hence the basis for our word “fabrication.”  Any time you write, you are making something; in that sense, you are writing a work of fiction.  Hence even non-fiction that you write—your journal, a newspaper article, a historical report—is paradoxically a work of non-fiction fiction. 

Literature is limited by so many characteristics that it cannot bring an absolute accurate description—it cannot bring us Truth with a capital “T” because it is limited by the point of view of the writer (he or she cannot know everything, cannot know all thoughts or motives of all persons involved in the event), or limitations in language that prevent accurate description to foreign readers (the English word for “transform” has very different connotations than that same word in Japanese). 

Literature may be defined as the totalization of any one field of study, but the impossibility of totalizing all knowledge of any discipline means that literature is trapped in an unfulfilled goal, hence a false promise—a lie. 


9)    Literature is aware of its form—it is self-reflexive.

Unlike other forms of communication or art, literature is aware that it is a set of words written or spoken—hence it is aware that one word will produce a different effect than another, that one rhythm will bring a tone of calmness or a tone of anxiety, and that one organization of words can appear on a page in a square appearance or can be modified to take the shape of an image, such as a river, a bird, or an apple. 

Literature is also aware of its tropes—those commonalities frequently found in similar works, such as in genres of literature (detective, science fiction, romance) or forms of writing (sonnets, political speeches).  Being aware of its tropes, literature recognizes its capacity for parody—the manner in which The Colbert Report mimics the techniques of The O’Reilly Factor, including title, tone of voice, rhythm of speech, televised images, and set design. 


10) Most importantly, literature is always—always—significant and shared—it has an audience that finds the text interesting.

A text written by one person but never read by another is not a work of literature—no one gets to read it, discuss it, and find out how it is a work of literature.  Writing a blog that no one reads is not literature until someone talks about it.  The questions that could be inspired are never brought up:  Is the text significant because of the person’s point of view—a first-person story rather than a third-person account?  Is the text significant because of a word used?  Or the meter of the writing?  Or the shape of the text?  Or the tone of voice?  Or its capacity for parody? 

But when people talk about literature, they have produced political change because its readers have talked about it:  literature has stopped slavery, fought colonization, exposed prejudices, inspired change. 

Or people talking about a work of literature just secures its place on the New York Times best sellers’ list.  Even Twilight is just as literary as Romeo and Juliet, The Woman Warrior, and Harry Potter.

But this fact is the most important quality of literature:  Unless you talk about that text with someone else, it cannot be literature.  Unless many people discuss that one text, few people will get to see how it can be a work of literature.  Unless that text is shared, that text will not reveal the culture or the time in which it was written, hence will not provide the knowledge that literature can.  Even if no one read that text when it was first written, the fact that you read it and are now talking about it makes that text a work of literature.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Spider-man 3 prompts re-consideration on camp and comic books


[Re-posted from Comic Book Masculinity]

theartistintheambulance:
timeconsumer:
So bad. *shakes head*
I’ve never been so embarrassed for someone in a movie before…
I picked up cheap copies of the Spider-man trilogy today.  I remember an extended rant I gave during a class break with students in my Edgar Allan Poe course, about how ridiculous this moment was in Spider-man 3.

Yet looking back, I appreciate this moment.

Comic books, while many times offering serious narratives, always contain camp: adults, while pursuing justice or vengeance through vigilantism, dress as bats, cats, bears, tin-men, or the standard outfit with their underwear on the outside.  Even when situations become depressing and dangerous, there is always some hilarious moment of relief—because life is not completely good or bad but, as Jack Kirby said, bittersweet. Read Judy Stone’s 1966 New York Times article on the campy Adam West Batman series; Eric Smoodin’s “Cartoon and Comic Classicism: High-Art Histories of Lowbrow Culture”; or Fabio Cleto’s reader anthology, Camp: Queer Aesthetics and the Performing Subject.

Read the variety of comic books available, and you will find that even the most serious character has his or her silly moments:  Batman has worn rainbow-colored outfits while associating with heroes and villains such as Kite Man, Plastic Man, and Vibe, and under the influence of red kryptonite, Superman has been a super…er, jerk.  Heck, watch the videos of comic book critic Linkara for the range of (unintentionally?) hilarious superhero offerings.

I think the test for a strong comic book adaptation is whether actors, directors, and writers recognize comic books’ careful balance of camp and seriousness.  Granted, I prefer The Brave and the Bold animated series to Christopher Nolan’s film adaptations, but I tend to prefer comedic to non-comedic drama.  For example, I think Joss Whedon has done an excellent job with this balance—Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog as the best example—whereas I do not think Sam Raimi was as successful.  And part of the problem is Toby Maguire’s performance, as he presents Peter Parker—one of the smartest and snarkiest of Marvel Comics’ characters—with only sadness and hardly any fun.  Listen to any of Parker’s quips in the trilogy:  Maguire does not add that sarcastic tone strongly enough when he antagonizes Green Goblin or Dr. Octopus.  In contrast, Josh Keaton, the voice of Spider-man in Greg Weisman and Victor Cook’s animated adaptation, at least brings humor back to the character.

And it is not impossible to include both the humor and the sadness of Parker’s life:  Dan Slott’s series of crossover issues with the Human Torch is a love letter to Spider-man fans, showing the character’s history across numerous decades, and incorporating Parker’s silliest of tools, whether the wardrobe flaws of the symbiote suit or the freaking Spider-Mobile.

(By the way, if you have ever read this article by The Onion:  No, seriously, Marvel Comics did have Spider-man—a human who can web-sling across Manhattan—driving in the Spider-Mobile while defeating supervillains with delicious Hostess snacks.  For this reason, realism is over-rated: life is too romantic when it comes to comic books to be so serious…Forgiving the Ledger allusion.)

I’m not asking that Raimi give up his plan and include Hostess snacks—although the mere presence of Bruce Campbell necessitates such a simultaneously awesome and corny moment.  Nevertheless, Raimi’s Spider-man 3 barely taps the comedic options available, not just with “Dark Peter” but regular, non-emo Parker.  To paraphrase Slott from his mini-series of the Great Lakes Avengers, comic books are supposed to be fun.  Yes, the stories can be dark, but these stories can have a wider audience that appreciates readers’ desire not only for tragedy and gore but to be respected as intelligent readers who can take a joke.

Reflection on TV Tropes and Wikis



I am quick to criticize wiki sources—not because the information is necessarily wrong or even flawed, but because in my classes I emphasize that agency is important.  Wikis obscure the identities of sources, whether because of vague user names or because readers may not know the qualifications for these sources to write about such topics.  If you do not know the identity of your source, then you cannot appeal to some author to verify information cited.  And while I will mock, gently, sources from Wikipedia, Urban Dictionary, or Sparks Notes, there can be value to these web sites—so long as you do your own research, and read any of the sources cited for specific facts listed on those web sites.

As an example, TV Tropes is a great web site, one that appeals to many students in my literature classes.  My undergraduates enjoy popular culture and can use the web site’s set of narrative conventions for enhanced enjoyment of comic books, films, and television shows—and even, surprise, improved literary analysis in their essays.  But the web site lacks a strong works cited entry for each page, requiring all readers to do their own research.  For example, if you have watched every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, then you are the reader have your research ready to verify the facts stated on the web site, but only as pertains to the episodes themselves.  But if you want to verify a quotation by Joss Whedon, the web site needs to cite the book, the newspaper article, or even the web address for that source. 

What prompted my re-consideration of wiki sources is a random French cartoon I watched last night, Dragon Hunters and, since I frequently visit TV Tropes, I was brought to this entry on “koan.”  Like some pages at TV Tropes, the entry for “koan” starts early on with a succinct definition of the word:  “A pithy saying used as a type of verbal Logic Bomb meant to short-circuit logical thinking and force the listener into deep contemplation outside of the framework of words.”  While the word choice could be more professional, the definition is quick and most importantly clear.  But I have never heard of this word before, perhaps because I would think of a number of synonyms—adage, phrase, saying—that are less unique but more well known to many readers.  The point of strong writing is to choose words that have the balance of audience’s needs and clear description. 

While I have never heard this word before, “koan” may be a common term for other readers who have different experiences than I.  And thanks to TV Tropes, I see that the word is much more common than I thought but outside of my experiences.  According to a more professional source, The Oxford English Dictionary, the word comes through Buddhism, and despite my limited understanding of Japanese, I rarely have encountered “koan,” derived from the Japanese etymological units loosely translated as “food for thought.”  And of course the word has a long history that I have ignored, the earliest entry appearing in 1946 in Ruth Benedict’s Chrysanthemum & Sword and later in Aldous Huxley’s letters.  TV Tropes may not include a works cited, but its entry on “koan” provides not only examples but enough information to force serious scholars to take the time to find more legitimate sources to which both students and professors can refer. 

Now if you excuse me, I have to look up the TV Tropes entry for the neologism “mondegreen.” 

PS  If you haven't seen Dragon Hunters, give it a try.  The more recent animated film has entertaining character animation and great acting by Forrest Whittaker and Rob Paulsen--and the television series has a theme song by The Cure!