When reading fiction, Point of View is probably one of the first things that is (should bee) noted, it is often the first things encountered and can be established as early as the first sentence in some cases. It has its effects upon many aspects of the story, including how information is conveyed to the reader, how reliable a narrator is, establishment of the "point-of-view-character, or the character through which the story is filtered, and even how we are asked to know and relate to the characters and the ideas given to us during the course of a given story.
Simply put, POV refers to the way a story is told, and its deft handling is paramount to the successful story. If the chosen POV is not right for the complete dramatic ordering of the subject matter, the story will not reveal all its possibilities to the author, and the story will be incomplete. Ultimately POV (which is the most subtly complex element of fiction)concerns the relationship between writer, characters, and reader.
Broken down into its base components/ideas, POV looks like this:
first-person narrator - (identifiable by the pronoun "I") one of the story's characters relates the story's action and events. This character may be the protagonist (the "I" telling "my" story), and would be considered the "central narrator," as that character is central to the story being told (think of Updike's A & P). The character may also be a "peripheral narrator" - a first person narrator who is telling the story about someone else, a narrator who himself/herself does not figure prominently into the story but knows and relates the story's events and action (Faulkner's "A Rose for Emily" comes to mind. A first-person narrator lends immediacy and a strong voice to a story, but can also be considered "unreliable" as a narrator. This is because we are getting a one-sided story, and the narrator's propensity toward truth, sanity, etc. could be questioned. The authority of the first-person narrator is limited. It is a biased report that we are receiving, but this "bias," or unreliability, can be used by an author to great effect. Think about the cliche, "There are two sides to every story."
third-person narrator - in which the author is telling the story, or the narrator is a non-participant (identifiable by the pronouns "he," "she," "it," "they"). This POV can be subdivied by the degree of knowledge a narrator/author posseses.
"third-person omniscient" is when the teller knows everything there is to know about all the characters, the setting, background, etc. It is often considered lofty and a bit distant (think of classical epics - Homer, Virgil, etc.). Tolstoy's "The Death of Ivan Ilych" is one example. However, the omniscient narrator is used less and less, if one examines a time-line of fiction--modern literature's movement downward from the heroic to the common character, from external action to the psychological action of the mind, has contributed to this lessening of the use of the god-like stance of the omniscient narrator.
"third-person limited" (or sympathetic) is confined to revealing the thoughtd of a few (usually one) character(s). This characters is known as the "point-of-view-character." This method was first developed in fiction by Gustave Flaubert - it alows for a more interior, more subjective view of characters and event. Think of Anton Chekhov's "Gusev" as an example. Henry James came up with another theory about limited omniscience narrating. He referred to certain characters in his stories as the "central intelligence." Stories told this way are not always about a single character, but they do involve a character, placed at the center of the action, through whom the author registers and evaluates everything that happens, including what happens to and within the character. In this type of story (James Joyce's "The Dead" as an example), the character's psyche is the stage for the drama.
"third-person objective" is just what it sounds like - a story in which the narrator remains coimpletely objective, and the only info give to the reader is that which is readily and physically observable by the narrator. In third-person objective, the narrator renders explicit, observable details and does not have access to the internal thoughts of characters or background information about the setting or situation. A character's thoughts, for example, are inferred only by what is expressed openly, in actions or in words. This point of view is also known as third-person dramatic because it is generally the way drama is developed. (Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants" is the famous example).
second-person narrator- the second person (identifiable by the pronoun "you") is rarely used in fiction since a forced identification of the reader with the fictional world is difficult to sustain.
Hopefully this will help as you read through the stories for the course. Keep an eye on this blog for further words on the elements that we will be studying i conjunction with these stories. Remember, POV will be something to consider beyond the scope of the two weeks of the syllabus devoted to that element.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Hemingway's Hills Like White Elephants
For those of you who have trouble getting the text right square off the bat, I will copy a version of Hills Like White Elephants here on the blog. But make sure to get the text ASAP.
Thanks, Jamie
--------------------------------
Hills Like White Elephants
Ernest Hemingway
The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On this side there was no shade and no trees and the station was between two lines of rails in the sun. Close against the side of the station there was the warm shadow of the building and a curtain, made of strings of bamboo beads, hung across the open door into the bar, to keep out flies. The American and the girl with him sat at a table in the shade, outside the building. It was very hot and the express from Barcelona would come in forty minutes. It stopped at this junction for two minutes and went on to Madrid.
"What should we drink?" the girl asked. She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.
"It's pretty hot," the man said. "Let's drink beer."
"Dos cervezas," the man said into the curtain.
"Big ones?" a woman asked from the doorway.
"Yes. Two big ones."
The woman brought two glasses of beer and two felt pads. She put the felt pads and the beer glasses on the table and looked at the man and the girl. The girl was looking off at the line of hills. They were white in the sun and the country was brown and dry.
"They look like white elephants," she said.
"I've never seen one," the man drank his beer. "No, you wouldn't have."
"I might have," the man said. just because you say I wouldn't have doesn't prove anything."
The girl looked at the bead curtain. "They've painted something on it," she said." What does it say?"
"Anis del Toro. It's a drink."
"Could we try it?"
The man called "Listen" through the curtain. The woman came out from the bar.
"Four reales."
"We want two Anis del Toro."
"With water? "
"Do you want it with water?"
"I don't know," the girl said. "Is it good with water?"
"It's all right."
"You want them with water?" asked the woman.
"Yes, with water."
"It tastes like licorice," the girl said and put the glass down.
"That's the way with everything."
"Yes," said the girl. "Everything tastes of licorice. Especially all the things you've waited so long for, like absinthe."
"Oh, cut it out."
"You started it," the girl said. "I was being amused. I was having a fine time."
"Well, let's try and have a fine time."
"All right. I was trying. I said the mountains looked like white elephants. Wasn't that bright?"
"That was bright."
"I wanted to try this new drink. That's all we do, isn't it--look at things and try new drinks?"
"I guess so."
The girl looked across at the hills.
"They're lovely hills," she said. "They don't really look like white elephants. I just meant the coloring of their skin through the trees."
"Should we have another drink?"
"All right."
The warm wind blew the bead curtain against the table.
"The beer's nice and cool," the man said.
"It's lovely," the girl said.
"It's really an awfully simple operation, Jig," the man said. "It's not really an operation at all."
The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on.
"I know you wouldn't mind it, Jig. It's really not anything. It's just to let the air in."
The girl did not say anything.
"I'll go with you and I'll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it's all perfectly natural."
"Then what will we do afterward?"
"We'll be fine afterward. Just like we were before."
"What makes you think so?"
"That's the only thing that bothers us. It's the only thing that's made us unhappy."
The girl looked at the bead curtain, put her hand out and took hold of two of the strings of beads.
"And you think then we'll be all right and be happy."
"I know we will. You don't have to be afraid. I've known lots of people that have done it."
"So have I," said the girl. "And afterward they were all so happy."
"Well," the man said, "if you don't want to you don't have to. I wouldn't have you do it if you didn't want to. But I know it's perfectly simple."
"And you really want to?"
"I think it's the best thing to do. But I don't want you to do it if you don't really want to."
"And if I do it you'll be happy and things will be like they were and you'll love me?"
"I love you now. You know I love you."
"I know. But if I do it, then it will be nice again if I say things are like white elephants, and you'll like it?"
"I'll love it. I love it now but I just can't think about it. You know how I get when I worry."
"If I do it you won't ever worry?"
"I won't worry about that because it's perfectly simple."
"Then I'll do it. Because I don't care about me."
"What do you mean?" "I don't care about me."
"Well, I care about you."
"Oh, yes. But I don't care about me. And I'll do it and then everything will be fine."
"I don't want you to do it if you feel that way."
The girl stood up and walked to the end of the station. Across, on the other side, were fields of grain and trees along the banks of the Ebro. Far away, beyond the river, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the field of grain and she saw the river through the trees.
"And we could have all this," she said. "And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible."
"What did you say?"
"I said we could have everything."
"We can have everything."
"No, we can't."
"We can have the whole world."
"No, we can't."
"We can go everywhere."
"No, we can't. It isn't ours any more."
"It's ours."
"No, it isn't. And once they take it away, you never get it back."
"But they haven't taken it away."
"We'll wait and see."
"Come on back in the shade," he said. "You mustn't feel that way."
"I don't feel any way," the girl said. "I just know things."
"I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to do "
"Nor that isn't good for me," she said. "I know. Could we have another beer?"
"All right. But you've got to realize "
"I realize," the girl said. "Can't we maybe stop talking?"
They sat down at the table and the girl looked across at the hills on the dry side of the valley and the man looked at her and at the table.
"You've got to realize," he said, "that I don't want you to do it if you don't want to. I'm perfectly willing to go through with it if it means anything to you."
"Doesn't it mean anything to you? We could get along."
"Of course it does. But I don't want anybody but you. I don't want any one else. And I know it's perfectly simple."
"Yes, you know it's perfectly simple." "It's all right for you to say that, but I do know it."
"Would you do something for me now?'
"I'd do anything for you.'
"Would you please please please please please please please Stop talking."
He did not say anything but looked at the bags against the wall of the station. There were labels on them from all the hotels where they had spent nights.
"But I don't want you to," he said, "I don't care anything about it."
"I'll scream," the girl said.
The woman came out through the curtains with two glasses of beer and put them down on the damp felt pads.
"The train comes in five minutes," she said.
"What did she say?" asked the girl.
"That the train is coming in five minutes."
The girl smiled brightly at the woman, to thank her.
"I'd better take the bags over to the other side of the station," the man said. She smiled at him.
"All right. Then come back and we'll finish the beer."
He picked up the two heavy bags and carried them around the station to the other tracks. He looked up the tracks but could not see the train. Coming back, he walked through the barroom, where people waiting for the train were drinking. He drank an Anis at the bar and looked at the people. They were all waiting reasonably for the train. He went out through the bead curtain. She was sitting at the table and smiled at him.
"Do you feel better?" he asked.
"I feel fine," she said. "There's nothing wrong with me. I feel fine."
Thanks, Jamie
--------------------------------
Hills Like White Elephants
Ernest Hemingway
The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On this side there was no shade and no trees and the station was between two lines of rails in the sun. Close against the side of the station there was the warm shadow of the building and a curtain, made of strings of bamboo beads, hung across the open door into the bar, to keep out flies. The American and the girl with him sat at a table in the shade, outside the building. It was very hot and the express from Barcelona would come in forty minutes. It stopped at this junction for two minutes and went on to Madrid.
"What should we drink?" the girl asked. She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.
"It's pretty hot," the man said. "Let's drink beer."
"Dos cervezas," the man said into the curtain.
"Big ones?" a woman asked from the doorway.
"Yes. Two big ones."
The woman brought two glasses of beer and two felt pads. She put the felt pads and the beer glasses on the table and looked at the man and the girl. The girl was looking off at the line of hills. They were white in the sun and the country was brown and dry.
"They look like white elephants," she said.
"I've never seen one," the man drank his beer. "No, you wouldn't have."
"I might have," the man said. just because you say I wouldn't have doesn't prove anything."
The girl looked at the bead curtain. "They've painted something on it," she said." What does it say?"
"Anis del Toro. It's a drink."
"Could we try it?"
The man called "Listen" through the curtain. The woman came out from the bar.
"Four reales."
"We want two Anis del Toro."
"With water? "
"Do you want it with water?"
"I don't know," the girl said. "Is it good with water?"
"It's all right."
"You want them with water?" asked the woman.
"Yes, with water."
"It tastes like licorice," the girl said and put the glass down.
"That's the way with everything."
"Yes," said the girl. "Everything tastes of licorice. Especially all the things you've waited so long for, like absinthe."
"Oh, cut it out."
"You started it," the girl said. "I was being amused. I was having a fine time."
"Well, let's try and have a fine time."
"All right. I was trying. I said the mountains looked like white elephants. Wasn't that bright?"
"That was bright."
"I wanted to try this new drink. That's all we do, isn't it--look at things and try new drinks?"
"I guess so."
The girl looked across at the hills.
"They're lovely hills," she said. "They don't really look like white elephants. I just meant the coloring of their skin through the trees."
"Should we have another drink?"
"All right."
The warm wind blew the bead curtain against the table.
"The beer's nice and cool," the man said.
"It's lovely," the girl said.
"It's really an awfully simple operation, Jig," the man said. "It's not really an operation at all."
The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on.
"I know you wouldn't mind it, Jig. It's really not anything. It's just to let the air in."
The girl did not say anything.
"I'll go with you and I'll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it's all perfectly natural."
"Then what will we do afterward?"
"We'll be fine afterward. Just like we were before."
"What makes you think so?"
"That's the only thing that bothers us. It's the only thing that's made us unhappy."
The girl looked at the bead curtain, put her hand out and took hold of two of the strings of beads.
"And you think then we'll be all right and be happy."
"I know we will. You don't have to be afraid. I've known lots of people that have done it."
"So have I," said the girl. "And afterward they were all so happy."
"Well," the man said, "if you don't want to you don't have to. I wouldn't have you do it if you didn't want to. But I know it's perfectly simple."
"And you really want to?"
"I think it's the best thing to do. But I don't want you to do it if you don't really want to."
"And if I do it you'll be happy and things will be like they were and you'll love me?"
"I love you now. You know I love you."
"I know. But if I do it, then it will be nice again if I say things are like white elephants, and you'll like it?"
"I'll love it. I love it now but I just can't think about it. You know how I get when I worry."
"If I do it you won't ever worry?"
"I won't worry about that because it's perfectly simple."
"Then I'll do it. Because I don't care about me."
"What do you mean?" "I don't care about me."
"Well, I care about you."
"Oh, yes. But I don't care about me. And I'll do it and then everything will be fine."
"I don't want you to do it if you feel that way."
The girl stood up and walked to the end of the station. Across, on the other side, were fields of grain and trees along the banks of the Ebro. Far away, beyond the river, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the field of grain and she saw the river through the trees.
"And we could have all this," she said. "And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible."
"What did you say?"
"I said we could have everything."
"We can have everything."
"No, we can't."
"We can have the whole world."
"No, we can't."
"We can go everywhere."
"No, we can't. It isn't ours any more."
"It's ours."
"No, it isn't. And once they take it away, you never get it back."
"But they haven't taken it away."
"We'll wait and see."
"Come on back in the shade," he said. "You mustn't feel that way."
"I don't feel any way," the girl said. "I just know things."
"I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to do "
"Nor that isn't good for me," she said. "I know. Could we have another beer?"
"All right. But you've got to realize "
"I realize," the girl said. "Can't we maybe stop talking?"
They sat down at the table and the girl looked across at the hills on the dry side of the valley and the man looked at her and at the table.
"You've got to realize," he said, "that I don't want you to do it if you don't want to. I'm perfectly willing to go through with it if it means anything to you."
"Doesn't it mean anything to you? We could get along."
"Of course it does. But I don't want anybody but you. I don't want any one else. And I know it's perfectly simple."
"Yes, you know it's perfectly simple." "It's all right for you to say that, but I do know it."
"Would you do something for me now?'
"I'd do anything for you.'
"Would you please please please please please please please Stop talking."
He did not say anything but looked at the bags against the wall of the station. There were labels on them from all the hotels where they had spent nights.
"But I don't want you to," he said, "I don't care anything about it."
"I'll scream," the girl said.
The woman came out through the curtains with two glasses of beer and put them down on the damp felt pads.
"The train comes in five minutes," she said.
"What did she say?" asked the girl.
"That the train is coming in five minutes."
The girl smiled brightly at the woman, to thank her.
"I'd better take the bags over to the other side of the station," the man said. She smiled at him.
"All right. Then come back and we'll finish the beer."
He picked up the two heavy bags and carried them around the station to the other tracks. He looked up the tracks but could not see the train. Coming back, he walked through the barroom, where people waiting for the train were drinking. He drank an Anis at the bar and looked at the people. They were all waiting reasonably for the train. He went out through the bead curtain. She was sitting at the table and smiled at him.
"Do you feel better?" he asked.
"I feel fine," she said. "There's nothing wrong with me. I feel fine."
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Tenative Course Schedule
This schedule will evolve as the class progresses. Changes will be announced both on my blog and on WebCT. Full instructions for the items on this list, including page numbers will be posted as they become available. Unless otherwise noted, all blog assignments and discussion questions will be assigned on Monday and due by Sunday. All readings unless noted will be from the Norton Anthology of Short Fiction. Other readings will be provided in handout form/online at my blog and on WebCT.
WEEK
1.14
Course intro (review syllabus, policies and visit http://intro2fictionhouston.blogspot.com)
Reading:
Writing About Fiction (xxi - xxix)
(look over) Glossary of Critical Terms (1718 - 1723)
“Hills Like White Elephants” by Ernest Hemmingway
Discussion online
blog assn. Getting Started on Blogger (Due 1/20)
1.21
[Point of View]
Reading:
“A & P” by John Updike
“Gusev” by Anton Chekhov
Hemingway, An interview (1640)
Frederick Busch on Hills Like White Elephants (1685)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 1/27
1.28
[Plot]
Reading:
“An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” – Ambrose Bierce
“Me and Miss Mandible” - Donald Barthelme
“Gorilla, My Love” – Toni Cade Bambara
Bambara, What Is It I Think I’m Doing Anyhow? (1620)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 2/3
2.4
[Setting]
Reading:
“The Open Boat” – Stephen Crane
“Great Falls” – Richard Ford
Allan Gurganus on The Open Boat (1689)
Charles C. Walcutt, [Stephen Crane: Naturalist] (1714)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 2/10
2.11
[Setting cont.]
Reading:
“A Rose for Emily” – William Faulkner
“Babylon Revisited” – F. Scott Fitzgerald
Faulkner, An Interview (1636)
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 2/17
(Paper #1 assigned)
2.18
[Character]
Reading:
“Sonny’s Blues” – James Baldwin
“A Good Man is Hard to Find” – Flannery O’Connor
O’Connor, The Nature and Aim of Fiction (1658)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 2/24
2.25
Discussion online – Paper Proposals/Progress
PAPER #1: DUE 3/2
3/3
[Character cont.]
Reading:
“The Death of Ivan Ilych” – Leo Tolstoy
Gary Saul Morson, The Reader as Voyeur: Tolstoi and the Poetics of Didactic
Fiction (1701)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 3/9
3/10
[Symbol]
Reading:
“The Yellow Wallpaper” – Charlotte Perkins Gilman
“Bliss” – Katherine Mansfield
“The Chrysanthemums” – John Steinbeck
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 3/16
MARCH 17 – 21 [SPRING BREAK – NO CLASS]
3/24
[Allegory]
Reading:
“Young Goodman Brown” – Nathaniel Hawthorne
“The Lottery” – Shirley Jackson
Edgar Allen Poe, Review of Hawthorne’s Twice Told Tales (1702)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 3/30
3/31
[Allegory cont.]
Reading:
“The Metamorphosis” – Franz Kafka
Stanley Corngold, Kafka’s The Metamorphosis: Metamorphosis of the Metaphor
(1686)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 4/6
4/7
[Form]
Reading:
“The Dead” – James Joyce
“The Use of Force” William Carlos Williams
C. C. Loomis Jr., Structure and Sympathy in Joyce’s “The Dead” (1694)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 4/13
(Paper #2 assigned)
4/14
[Form cont.]
Reading:
“The Things They Carried” – Tim O’Brien
“The Story of an Hour” – Kate Chopin
“Girl” – Jamaica Kincaid
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 4/20
4/21
Paper Proposals/Progress/discussion
Semester wrap-up
PAPER #2 DUE 4/28
WEEK
1.14
Course intro (review syllabus, policies and visit http://intro2fictionhouston.blogspot.com)
Reading:
Writing About Fiction (xxi - xxix)
(look over) Glossary of Critical Terms (1718 - 1723)
“Hills Like White Elephants” by Ernest Hemmingway
Discussion online
blog assn. Getting Started on Blogger (Due 1/20)
1.21
[Point of View]
Reading:
“A & P” by John Updike
“Gusev” by Anton Chekhov
Hemingway, An interview (1640)
Frederick Busch on Hills Like White Elephants (1685)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 1/27
1.28
[Plot]
Reading:
“An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” – Ambrose Bierce
“Me and Miss Mandible” - Donald Barthelme
“Gorilla, My Love” – Toni Cade Bambara
Bambara, What Is It I Think I’m Doing Anyhow? (1620)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 2/3
2.4
[Setting]
Reading:
“The Open Boat” – Stephen Crane
“Great Falls” – Richard Ford
Allan Gurganus on The Open Boat (1689)
Charles C. Walcutt, [Stephen Crane: Naturalist] (1714)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 2/10
2.11
[Setting cont.]
Reading:
“A Rose for Emily” – William Faulkner
“Babylon Revisited” – F. Scott Fitzgerald
Faulkner, An Interview (1636)
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 2/17
(Paper #1 assigned)
2.18
[Character]
Reading:
“Sonny’s Blues” – James Baldwin
“A Good Man is Hard to Find” – Flannery O’Connor
O’Connor, The Nature and Aim of Fiction (1658)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 2/24
2.25
Discussion online – Paper Proposals/Progress
PAPER #1: DUE 3/2
3/3
[Character cont.]
Reading:
“The Death of Ivan Ilych” – Leo Tolstoy
Gary Saul Morson, The Reader as Voyeur: Tolstoi and the Poetics of Didactic
Fiction (1701)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 3/9
3/10
[Symbol]
Reading:
“The Yellow Wallpaper” – Charlotte Perkins Gilman
“Bliss” – Katherine Mansfield
“The Chrysanthemums” – John Steinbeck
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 3/16
MARCH 17 – 21 [SPRING BREAK – NO CLASS]
3/24
[Allegory]
Reading:
“Young Goodman Brown” – Nathaniel Hawthorne
“The Lottery” – Shirley Jackson
Edgar Allen Poe, Review of Hawthorne’s Twice Told Tales (1702)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 3/30
3/31
[Allegory cont.]
Reading:
“The Metamorphosis” – Franz Kafka
Stanley Corngold, Kafka’s The Metamorphosis: Metamorphosis of the Metaphor
(1686)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 4/6
4/7
[Form]
Reading:
“The Dead” – James Joyce
“The Use of Force” William Carlos Williams
C. C. Loomis Jr., Structure and Sympathy in Joyce’s “The Dead” (1694)
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 4/13
(Paper #2 assigned)
4/14
[Form cont.]
Reading:
“The Things They Carried” – Tim O’Brien
“The Story of an Hour” – Kate Chopin
“Girl” – Jamaica Kincaid
Discussion online
Blog assignment: Due 4/20
4/21
Paper Proposals/Progress/discussion
Semester wrap-up
PAPER #2 DUE 4/28
Welcome to Intro to Fiction - The Elements of Content (where form and meanings meet)
This is an introduction to the Literature of Short Fiction. If you made it this far then you probably already ascertained that. but the fact is, survey courses like this one can be tricky to conceptualize (the sheer number of great stories makes it difficult and intriguing to focus them into a coherent course). The form is vast, and its continuing relevance to our culture and our selves dictates that our examination come to terms with historical/cultural/societal spheres in which fiction is created - however, we would be doing ourselves an injustice if we didn't consider the craft, the author sitting at his/her desk grappling with the deep dark possibilities of self-expression and order in an ultimately chaotic place. to that end we will focus on where Style and content meet, that is, how Craft makes meaning - how Short fiction is built and how authors attempt to represent their visions through the "making" of stories. Therefore the elements of fiction (Setting/scene, Point of View, Character, Symbol, etc.) that go into the making will be a large topic for our grappling as we continue through this coutse.
Literature is often a powerful and volatile political space where artists grapple with the culture at large. Seeing literature as more than just "telling a story" requires a shift in thinking. It requires that we displace our own preconceptions, stereotypes, biases (we all have them) and approach the text objectively. It requires that we think of literature as a kind of machine; each text has a function and produces an effect. I think it was Walt Whitman who said that poetry is a small or large machine made out of words. Fiction can be thought of in the same way. Machines don't mean something; they do something. Our task will be to investigate what these dramatic texts are trying to do.
As a teacher, I am not governed by the notion that there is only one correct reading or interpretation of any literary work. Rather, my hope is that by the end of the semester you will be able to appreciate the many effects of any given story. Early in the semester, I won’t expect you to be an expert on literary matters. I do, however, expect you to share your reactions and questions. As the semester progresses, you will become better versed in the methods of critical reading, and as result, will also become a more articulate, discerning, and critical writer.
Please be aware that many of the literature that we will read and consider will come from authors with widely different backgrounds and the stories will often deal with decidedly provocative issues including class, race and racism, sexuality, religion, politics, etc. We will, at times, encounter coarse language. You know your level of tolerance concerning such matters; it's up to you whether to stay in the course or seek another one more in line with your personal tastes/opinions. If you elect to stay, please know that we will not discuss whether a poet's ideas are moral/immoral, proper/improper, etc. Rudeness regarding such matters will not be tolerated and offenders will be asked to leave the class. The goal of learning to read literature is seeing beyond one's own experience and worldviews.
Welcome Aboard,
Jamie Thomas
Literature is often a powerful and volatile political space where artists grapple with the culture at large. Seeing literature as more than just "telling a story" requires a shift in thinking. It requires that we displace our own preconceptions, stereotypes, biases (we all have them) and approach the text objectively. It requires that we think of literature as a kind of machine; each text has a function and produces an effect. I think it was Walt Whitman who said that poetry is a small or large machine made out of words. Fiction can be thought of in the same way. Machines don't mean something; they do something. Our task will be to investigate what these dramatic texts are trying to do.
As a teacher, I am not governed by the notion that there is only one correct reading or interpretation of any literary work. Rather, my hope is that by the end of the semester you will be able to appreciate the many effects of any given story. Early in the semester, I won’t expect you to be an expert on literary matters. I do, however, expect you to share your reactions and questions. As the semester progresses, you will become better versed in the methods of critical reading, and as result, will also become a more articulate, discerning, and critical writer.
Please be aware that many of the literature that we will read and consider will come from authors with widely different backgrounds and the stories will often deal with decidedly provocative issues including class, race and racism, sexuality, religion, politics, etc. We will, at times, encounter coarse language. You know your level of tolerance concerning such matters; it's up to you whether to stay in the course or seek another one more in line with your personal tastes/opinions. If you elect to stay, please know that we will not discuss whether a poet's ideas are moral/immoral, proper/improper, etc. Rudeness regarding such matters will not be tolerated and offenders will be asked to leave the class. The goal of learning to read literature is seeing beyond one's own experience and worldviews.
Welcome Aboard,
Jamie Thomas
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