One sole method of interpretation?

One sole method of interpretation?

So I’m kinda on an interpretation blog kick here. These are intriguing questions posed in class so I’m running with them!

Should all texts be interpreted using the same method?

First of all, what would the “same” method be? What would that even look like? Just look at all the literary theories that exist today and that we have looked at in class, I don’t think they would all be able to stick to just one sole method of interpretation. Could a Marxist, feminist, romantic, post-colonial, Christian method be taught? And I didn’t even mention all of them in that! I think one sole “same” method is impossible.

It is impossible for everyone to interpret a text the same way. Just refer to my previous post, all of come with our own set of experiences, assumptions, and background. We will each interpret a piece of literature differently because no two people are the same. In the human race there is nothing the “same.” Sure, there are commonalities, sure some people might see the same thing in a piece of literature and may agree at times, but on the whole, if we include everyone, there is no way that everyone can agree on one “same” method or treat every work of literature the “same.” That’s like… communism. And we all know how that works out in the end, haha.

Do many interpretations equal a flawed work of literature?

Do many interpretations equal a flawed work of literature?

When interpretations arrive at different meanings for a text, does this suggest that the meaning of the text is uncertain or that it has been read incorrectly by one or both parties?

When is a text NOT interpreted multiple ways? Has a work EVER been interpreted just one single way? I find this hard to believe that one interpretation exists for every piece of literature out there. When a text is interpreted multiple ways it is not because of a flaw in the work itself. It is rather a product of the diversity of the readers and their individual personal economy. Each reader brings something to the table based upon their own personal experience and background. And, as Professor Downing says, this is called hetereoglossia. Each person is going to gloss a piece of literature different; they will interpret it according to what goes on their minds. And therefore, since no two snowflakes are alike, and no two people are alike, it is impossible for all people to think the same thing about a work of literature. So let’s not bash the piece of literature itself, it is what it is, and it is up to us, as individual readers, to interpret it how we see fit- all infinite interpretations that there may be.

Interpretation limited to then or now?

Interpretation limited to then or now?

Is interpretation primarily designed to understand the meaning of a text in its original context, or to understand its meaning for us in the present?

My answer would be that it is a combination of both. Let’s take the Bible for example. The Bible was written hundreds and hundreds of years ago, the world today is not the world it was when the Bible was written. Therefore, it is important to realize and understand the world in the times in which the Bible was written. One must understand the context before applying it to modern day times such as the present. But just because the Bible is an ancient text does not mean that the principles and stories do not apply anymore. There is something universal in the meaning, something that is still applicable hundreds of years later even if we are now driving cars instead of riding donkeys. So it is a combination of both for any text, even if it is a novel written 50 years ago. One must know where the author is coming from at the time, but also say, “Okay, now what I can get from this today, right here and now?” Looking into the past can help explain things today. And just because a piece of literature is written generations ago doesn’t mean that it isn’t applicable today or that we can only interpret it within the era in which it was written. Great works of literature have a universal meaning and truth that can be interpreted generations and years later.

The “English” Department

The “English” Department

While reading the little biographical information right before the essay “On the Abolition of the English Department” by Ngugi, Liyong, and Oquor-Anyumba, I had an epiphany when I read these lines:

“… English was enmeshed with nationalism and designed to instill national pride- hence the subject was “English” rather than simply “literature”- particularly in the face of European conflicts (such as those leading up to World War I) and competition for colonies. Morever, the teaching of English language and literature was a prominent part of the administration of the British Empire in its many colonies around the globe- in India, Africa, and elsewhere” (2089-2090).

Wow. Suddenly it all made sense! I hadn’t ever really thought about the “English” major before, and the root of how it got its name. I always thought hey, English is the language and therefore the English major is the study of the language and literature in general. After reading those lines up there suddenly it did make sense, if it weren’t for England and their nationalism I would probably just be a Literature major. That’s funny to think about especially because I’m American. I didn’t think my major carried that much history with its name. It’s also intriguing to think that, especially in relation to the essay, that the English major could be seen as colonialism, especially in other countries. Is the English major really a form of colonialism, when all it is learning how to write, read, and critique language (specifically English) well? Is that a fair assertion?

Lots of intriguing stuff there, and I didn’t even get into the essay yet!

Authors should write for today or forever?

Authors should write for today or forever?

So I was browsing through some blogs and I stumbled upon a question that Anne Marie poses in one of her posts: “need a writer acquire some eternal value in order to be considered an author, or need he be simply/merely/only contextually relevant?”

I stopped after that question and thought. Does a writer need to be writing something with eternal value or can he just be writing something for the times to be considered an “author”?

My answer is this, it is a mixture of both. I think that a writer could/should write for the times, write about things that are relevant to him and to his audience. Now this doesn’t mean that it has to be about characters set in 2008, it could be a novel set years and years ago, but as long as the subject matter at its heart is relatable and relevant to today’s era, it can work. With that being said, with current relevancy helping a writer reach author status, I think that when a writer talks about things that matter, these things are ultimately universal and transcends time. So therefore, the subject matter is not only relevant to today’s generation but will be relevant in the generations to come. If it has a piece of truth that is good today, why wouldn’t it be good 200 years from now?

Binary oppositions

Binary oppositions

When I first heard this word I remember thinking what the heck is that? It sounds heavily intellectual, that maybe my poor brain would have trouble comprehending something so high and above me. When in class we started to name a few on the board, suddenly the concept didn’t look so bad. It wasn’t scary, it was easy.

After reading Maris’ blog, I realized she had it right, “binary oppositions” is just a glorified term for “antonyms.” I mean really, day/night, boy/girl, I realize that binary oppositions is all about defining one by relation to the other, but it’s the same stinking thing as an antonym! Maybe English major intellectuals needed to come up with a more intellectual sounding term to make things sound a bit better and even more scholarly, haha.

But the most interesting thing about these “binary oppositions” is the connotations they are inherent with each set. In class we classified the binary oppositions one as “man” and one as “woman.” It was interesting to see which words were classified with “man” and the others as “woman.” The words that went under the category of “man” were more positive words in their connotations, and the words that went under “woman” were more negative in their connotations. This was very intriguing to me, it is fascinating how a word has come to take on a connotation that may have nothing to do with its meaning. Let’s take day/night for example. One could say that day carries positive meanings, because it is light as opposed to the negative connotation of darkness that is involved with night. When in reality what makes the night any worse than day? Are they not just periods of normal natural occurrences? Is one more positive than the other?

All in all, binary oppositions, antonyms, whatever you want to call them are fascinating. It just goes to show how society has placed these connotations on language, and how sometimes we need one word in order to describe another. Because without day, how could we even know what night was?

Is authorship dependent on training?

Is authorship dependent on training?

This is a good question. Is one’s ability to write dependent on training and schooling?

Part of me would like to say that writers are just born writers. That they can’t learn how to write, but rather it is already instilled within them. As I started to write this blog I remembered something that I had read when looking into graduate schools for writing and I came across this statement from the University of Iowa in which they state what their philosophy is on the “learning” to write:

“Though we agree in part with the popular insistence that writing cannot be taught, we exist and proceed on the assumption that talent can be developed, and we see our possibilities and limitations as a school in that light. If one can "learn" to play the violin or to paint, one can "learn" to write, though no processes of externally induced training can ensure that one will do it well.”

I agree with this assertion by this school. I don’t think writing can be taught, but I think the skill that is inherent can be developed and this skill is developed through training and school work. The talent is there, now through class work the skill can be honed, challenged, stretched, molded and brought even more to life.

Is it dangerous for women to write with an awareness that they are women?

Is it dangerous for women to write with an awareness that they are women?

Whoa, hold up. Is it dangerous? This question makes it sound like the world is going to end or someone might lose their life if a woman writes a novel with a clear and distinct understanding that she is indeed a woman. How could this be dangerous?

Now this makes me asks, well could we not say the same thing about men? Could I not turn the tables and say, well is it dangerous for men to write with an awareness that they are men? I’m not a feminist, but I do think that men and women should have equal rights and be on the same level, so what makes it so bad if women can write with an awareness that they are woman when men have been doing it for years?

And what does it mean exactly to write with an awareness that we are our own sex? That’s just like saying it’s dangerous for a white man to write with an awareness that he is a white man or a black man or (thrown in any kind of self-defining characteristic here).

In the end, there is nothing dangerous about writing with an awareness of one of your self-defining characteristics. We all have them. We all have a sex. We all have a race, etc etc etc. There is no escaping that and it’s bound to work its way into our writing as well.

Do men and women write differently?

Do men and women write differently?

This question just sends up a red flag for me right away. I mean, yes, men and women are different, I’m not going to deny that. But aren’t we being a bit stereotypically if we lump ALL men and ALL women into two distinct categories saying that everyone in their sex writes the SAME way?

Sure, there might be some dominant traits of men and some of women. Men are more direct, and women go around in circles and are more subtle. Sure, you could say that. But I know the reverse is true.

I don’t think it is okay to make one big blanket statement for each sex when it comes to writing style. Each person is different, each person, forget the sex for a minute, writes their own way. They have their own unique way of weaving words together, and yes, this can be influenced by their gender or their economic class or their upbringing, but the truth is gender isn’t the only thing that influences their writing. So let’s not lump them all together in one blanket statement of writing skills. Let’s look at everyone individually shall we?

Are the best works of literature those that balance female and male components?

Are the best works of literature those that balance female and male components?

Thinking back on all the books I’ve read, you know the “great classics” like The Scarlet Letter or Crime and Punishment, I’m left asking myself: did these books balance female and male components?

Well then I ask: well what exactly are female and male components? Are we talking about flowery details and descriptions or moral lessons? Are we talking about subtle tactics or more blunt and direct?

I don’t think great works of literature are a balance of female and male components. I think it is rather that both sexes can get something out of the book. The book could be predominately male (whatever THAT means) and yet a woman still could get some satisfaction from reading the book. I don’t think a great book needs to have 50/50 gender wise with each page. If it is a good work of literature- based solely on words, on language, on story, on plot, and on meaning- then that is ALL that matters. That is what constitutes a great work of art, not the male of female components or the balance of each in a book.

Is clothing art?

Is clothing art?

I was intrigued by reading Maris’ post about Aesthetic pleasure in which she talks about clothing and how her fashion sense has been influenced by her family and thereby their economic class. Maris brought up the quote from Pierre Bourdieu essay From Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste, which states that “And nothing is more distinctive, more distinguished, than the capacity to confer aesthetic status on objects that are banal or even common (because common people make them their own, especially for aesthetic purposes), or the ability to apply the principles of pure aesthetic to the most everyday choices of everyday life, e.g., in cooking, clothing, decorating, completely reversing the popular disposition which annexes aesthetics to ethics.”

After reading her post I realized just how much we, as humans, take common everyday things, such as clothing, and exalt them as art. Now in Bourdieu’s essay, he is stating how different economic classes have different aesthetic values about art. The upper class has a “pure” vision of art, it is not connected to banal everyday things. The working class says that art is practical, it is about the everyday things.

This really made me think about clothing and art. When I think about the upper class, I think about high fashion, Prada bags and designer jeans. I think the upper class is wearing their art. Yes, I do think the upper class has different aesthetic values than the working class, but I think it does reflect in their taste of all things aesthetic, especially the everyday things like clothes. I think that the upper class’ vision of art is connected to everyday things, because their lives are based on everyday things like clothes and cars and food. The presentation of all these things must be top notch and speculator, each everyday things must be its own work of art. And then we come to the working class. Art to them is more practical yes, since they don’t have as much money to spend on Prada bags they look for what is practical, what is good and reasonable to them. Their vision is based on their economic status. But look at Walmart of Target, they are trying to sell cheaper versions of higher fashions. Sure it’s not the same, but yet they are trying to emulate the fashions of the season for reasonable prices. I think the working class is influenced by their economic class and pocket book, but have aspirations to higher economic classes. They want the designer jeans, but will settle for the Walmart imitation. They want the best, but will settle for what they can afford in their pocketbook. So, all in all, I guess what I am trying to say is that while we are influenced (and confined) by our economic classes and situation, we still always have hopes for higher and for more. I think as humans, we want the best. Even if we can’t get it.

America... Land of the Manipulated?

America… Land of the Manipulated?

Richard Ohmann’s essay entitled “The Shapes of a Canon: U.S. Fiction, 1960-1975” discusses the idea that the American public is being influenced by a select few of elite, upper class if you will, society of people. These people depict which books are Bestsellers and which will be gathering dust in the backroom of Barnes and Noble in a cardboard box.

So is America the land of the free, or the land of the manipulated? Yes I think a lot of people in higher places can dictate some of our actions, in government and in the bookstore. But, we are still individuals. America is still the land of individuals making their own way and making their own decisions (within reason of course). So that means that people can still choose to buy that book that isn’t on the New York Times Bestseller list. If you want to do it, do it. If you want to read it, read it. No one is stopping your from being an individual, especially an American individual reader.

The telling of stories...

The telling of stories…

Most would say that storytelling is a lost art. We are no longer an oral culture, but rather thrive on the tangible written word instead of the spoken. We get our stories from novels, newspapers, and the internet.

But has storytelling completely dropped off into oblivion? I don’t think so.

Listen to any dinner time conversation. Turn on Comedy Central and listen to comedians tell stories about hilarious incidents they had. Go to any family reunion and listen to stories about the good old days. Stories are still alive and well. They are told everyday, we all do it. Sure, maybe it’s not our main way of keeping alive a tradition or a memory or passing on information from generation to generation, but that still is part of it. Humans are born to communicate. And we are born to tell stories. That will never die.

And that brings up yet another point, do the stories we tell and read have to contain a point, a message, a meaning? According to Walter Benjamin in the essay “The Storyteller Reflecting on the Works of Nikolai Leskov”, Benjamin states that all stories must have a meaning or a message, without it they aren’t real stories. I would have to disagree. What about all those stories told at the dinner table and around the campfire? Just because there isn’t a moral at the end of the tale, doesn’t mean it isn’t a real and true story. I am a strong believer of stories that are just purely for entertainment. We all need a little laugher and enjoyment now and again, so sometimes a message and meaning just aren’t needed. Even novels or versions of the printed word that don’t have a strong point shouldn’t be discarded. The world is full of serious matters; humans need a laugh now and again. So Benjamin, let the human species laugh now and again!

What to do with the people who hate Shakespeare

What to do with the people who hate Shakespeare.

Professor Powers raised an interesting question in class the other day: Do we have a responsibility to appreciate things that we don’t like? Especially, in this case, literature?

As Professor Powers stated, that is not the case in our culture today. As Americans we are all about making our decisions, we are individuals, we can decide what we like and what we don’t like. No one, nothing, can make us thing otherwise. And there is no way that we are being held “responsible” to appreciate something we don’t like.

And what exactly does the word “appreciate” mean in this context. Are we trying to say that we should like what we don’t like? Should English majors be shunned if they detest Shakespeare? If we are talking in terms of we should be liking something because it is a “great” work of literature, then I do not think we have a responsibility to feel like we should like something. We all have our own tastes, our own likes, we are partial to certain styles over another. I’d rather read a good nonfiction novel with some humor than a boring academic piece. Just because the academic piece may be a “better” piece of literature doesn’t mean that I should like it.

But if we mean “respect” when we say “appreciate,” then I think we have it right. Just because an English major doesn’t like Shakespeare does not mean that he cannot respect his skill and craft and mastery of the English language in his work. Of course, all people can respect things that they don’t like. If it is worthy of being appreciate. If the work is good, if it is notable, and worthy of praise even though it might not be someone’s cup of tea, it should be appreciated. Do we have a responsibility to? There I’m not quite so sure. I don’t think it would be a sin to totally condemn Shakespeare. A shame, maybe, but not a sin. I don’t think we should feel bound in any way to appreciate something we don’t like. If you don’t like something that is worthy of being appreciated, it’s more your loss than anything really.

Can writing be collaborative?

Can writing be collaborative?

“The buzz these days is all about the network, the small pieces loosely joined. About how the sum of the parts is greater than the whole. About how working together and joining the dots serves the greater good and benefits our collective endeavours.

This is undoubtedly true in many fields. Software is rarely written in a vacuum and indeed the “open source” movement is built on the premise that collaboration is the only way to get bugs spotted and move forward. Scientific research, too, is more often than not a collaborative activity - and peer review is key to checking and honing the development of scientific ideas.

However, is the same true in artistic fields? We are used to the romantic notion of the artist or the novelist working alone in an attic room, or in the shed at the bottom of the garden…” - “About the Project,” A Million Penguins

It’s true. We are used to the romantic notion that a writer writes by himself, writing is a solitary act. This is the notion we have all been accustomed to.

But let’s think about it. The project that De Montfort University in England came up seems strange but is based on a good idea, can writing be collaborative? Can multiple writers band together and twist and manipulate words together and make it work? Can writing be a community instead of solitary confinement?

I think it can be. Writing can be collaborative, and it has been, and continues to be. Look at all the writings done for the media industry, screenplays have been written by more than one people, and television shows have been writing by teams of people. Look at SNL, they have a team of writers every week coming up with new writings. The fact is that collaborative writing happens all the time out there, and it works. But I guess a better question is, the one that A Million Penguins brings up, is can a novel be written in this way? Can a group of writers sit down in a room, or come together online, to write a novel? Looking at this “wiki” style novel, where anyone can add anything at anytime, the end product is interesting. It’s quirky, strange, but it does produce a work of writing in the end. How does one say if it is successful or not? What makes it successful?

When it comes to collaboratively writing for a novel, it is an intriguing idea. And I think it holds a lot of potential. Sure it holds the potential to be tricky, as multiple people have different ideas on where the novel should go and that could conflict. But the potential to bring those two ideas together and somehow work creatively to merge them and conform them into something bigger and better is tremendous. Two brains are better than one they always say. So why not let them make a novel together?

Check out A Million Penguins project at: amillionpenguins.com

Does formalism work?

Does formalism work?

Does formalism actually work? A way in which we read literature only be letting the text stand alone as is. Sounds great in theory. The words on the page are the only thing that matters, what is good or bad is determined only by the black curves of the consonants and vowels of the page. The intention of the author is completely irrelevant.

Can this actually work? Can a reader completely discount everything from the intention of the author to his own emotional and personal responses to the text? Can this work?

If formalists only look at the text, and solely the text, it would seem as if the formalist would all be getting the same conclusions about the text. But can this really happen? No. There is no way everyone is going to come to an unanimous agreement about a text even if all personal and emotional responses have been discounted. And what about the intentions of the author? Who cares if the author is dead or is not there to recount his intentions with the piece, shouldn’t the author be taken into account here? After all, the author did write the piece. I feel that you can’t get more in touch with the writing if you don’t look more at the author of the piece itself. Formalism just doesn’t seem to make sense.

Maybe I’m just a romantic at heart…

Should the reader focus on the poem rather than their own emotional reaction?

Should the reader focus on the poem rather than their own emotional reaction?

Or should the question be can a reader focus on the poem without their own emotional reaction?

I don’t think a reader can read a piece of text objectively. Every person has their own set of beliefs and background, and it is hard to separate yourself from your reading. I think every reader’s natural instinct is to read something and then relate it and compare it to your own beliefs and assumptions. It doesn’t mean that a reader can’t look at it from different angles, but it is just our natural inclination to relate to what we already believe inside of us. And when it comes to emotions, primary human reactions, we can’t help but have those when we read a piece of literature. Could a reader honestly separate himself, his thoughts and emotions, from the text?

Even in journalism, where objectivity is key, it’s hard to be completely objective. That’s why we have different news channels catering to the conservatives and the liberals and everyone in between. As humans it’s hard for us to be objective. It’s human nature to let our humanness be a part of everything we do and affects how we react to anything, even the reading of literature.

Does reading connect the reader in some way to the author?

Does reading connect the reader in some way to the author?

I sat and pondered this for a while. What do I really think? When I read a poem or a book do I consider myself connected with the author?

I would have to say that it depends on the genre. Take literary nonfiction for example, I know for sure that this reading is completely in tune with the author because the author is depicting exactly what happened to him. The author is painting a picture in my mind of his experiences and I therefore do feel connected with the author and picture the author in my mind as the character of the story. Even with poetry, I too often have the problem of separating the author from the speaker, and creating two separate entities. More often than not I see the speaker of the poem as the author, and read the poem as if this was happening or had happened to the author.

But let’s look at fiction. Fiction is different for me. With fiction I know things are “fake,” that this is just made up stuff, and when I read through a novel I am imagining and creating characters in my mind from the words of the story and it has no connection with the author at all. Even though I know that fiction can be based on true life events and the author can insert his own personality and experiences and twist them a bit in fiction, I still see only the text and not the author’s personality leaking into the story.

Should the text stand alone as is, just like I have processed fiction reading in my mind all these years? Should nonfiction and poetry be the same way? While I do think that reading the text just for its literary value sans outside means from the author, I think bringing in the life and personality of the writer into consideration brings a whole other understanding to the writing. Not to assume that the text is autobiographical by any means, but understanding about the author can make things in the text make sense or shed new lights on certain aspects of the text. So I think a balance of both incorporating and “ignoring” to a sense the author’s involvement in a piece of writing is good.

Selfish

Selfish

I was reading an article by Herbert M. Schueller entitled “Romanticism Reconsidered,” when I came across this line:

Escaping into what the individual desires, it celebrates suicide, which is the apparent denial of life, though it also celebrates life in its richness and multiplicity.

At first I was taken aback by the analogy to suicide, but then I thought more about it and was drawn to the “escaping into what the individual desires,” and then I pondered the question, is writing a selfish act? Are romantics just a bunch of selfish poets sitting under a pretty tree?

And let’s not only limit writing to the romantics, but open it up to modern day writers. Are they writing just to get a paycheck? Just to put their own thoughts and musings onto paper whether society could give a crap about their thoughts and musings?

The Romantics were all about having a connection with the supernatural through their writing. Writing was the bridge from human to supernatural. Did their writings help others? I think they thought their work would inspire them, but deep down I think they just did it for themselves. That’s why Emerson urged everyone to go out with a pencil and pad of paper in the woods and find Truth. Each one on their own! Maybe Schueller was right, writing, “Romanticism,” is escaping into what the individual desires.

And today I think we are still Romantics. We are still pushing the ideal that each person is on his own. And everyone likes it that way. That’s America for you. Do what you want.

But yet Schueller still says writing “celebrates life in its richness and multiplicity.” And it does. Writers might just have been celebrating it with themselves and if others enjoy it, great, but that wasn’t the sole intention of the writing…

Schueller, Herbert M. Romanticism Reconsidered. The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, 1962. 359-368.

The American Scholar of Today

The American Scholar of Today

Reading was always a task. But not at first.

At first reading was fun, it was the story before bed or the book you read because it was exciting and gave great pleasure. That was before school took over.

School made reading a task. Read this book. Check. Read that book. Check. It became a chore, something I had to do because my teachers said I had to. And there was always the incentive. At first it was pizza. Personal pan pizza at Pizza Hut. That was cool, I liked pizza, so of course I would read as many books it took to get the little golden dish of cheesy goodness. As time went on the incentive to read was a good grade. If you read you would surely be guaranteed a good grade.

Reading became an action done out of necessity rather than want or desire.

The fun was sucked right out of it and for all of the American scholars in my generation.

For Emerson, the American scholar needed three things: nature, action, and reading. While reading is necessary, Emerson also says that reading makes a student into a satellite and not a system. Instead of developing minds we are hindering them with books. We need to break free from the models that have been driving into our minds for years and discover and create new ways of thinking and learning. Let creation take over imitation.

So here we are, years after Emerson, and my generation would agree with throw out the books part of Emerson’s assertion, but would they believe in the creation part? If my generation doesn’t even read the books in order to point them to others things, then will our generation be without inspiration? Can people create without inspiration? Are books the source of inspiration? Is our increasingly bookless, reading less, generation doomed of creation and imagination? What has happened to our American scholars of today and what will happen to the American scholars of tomorrow without books and reading?

Do morality and writing go hand in hand?

Do morality and writing go hand in hand?

As a writer, I have always waited in front of the blank computer screen, fingers ready, waiting for “inspiration.” If I didn’t feel like writing, if I didn’t feel the creative juices flowing through my veins I just simply wouldn’t write. But if I feel some, dare I say it, “supernatural,” powers come over me, suddenly my fingers will tickle over the ivories.

So, yes, I’ll admit I do give into the so called naïve view of inspiration in the case of writing. Does that mean that my work is divinely inspired? And not only in the case of writing somehow coming from God above, is writing in general a moral act or can it be used for a moral good?

In the reading, “The Four Ages of Poetry,” by Percy Shelley, Shelley claims that poetry improves society. Because of poetry, and writing in general, imagination is boosted, fostered and grown. Imagination leads to ethics and ethics leads to perfection. If this is applied to the human race what a great world we would live in if everyone just read poems all the time!

So is this the case? Is Shelley in the right by saying writing leads to imagination which leads to good sound ethics? This would mean that poetry is intrinsically moral, that it holds some type of goodness that would affect anyone who reads it. This means that the poet would be writing down some great Truth with his pen. Do we give a human such credit?

Human. That’s a good word. Are humans not flawed? If you would agree that humans are flawed beings, that we ultimately fall short, would that not mean that our creations would also be inherently flawed as well? If that is the case, can we feasibly say that our creations, our “poetry,” are good and can be used for good?

When I sit down before my computer to write I don’t think that God is dictating my every word. I feel like he gave me gifts and has inspired me to use them and can inspire me to sit down and write. But yet it doesn’t make me perfect and it doesn’t make my work perfect. But just because I am flawed and my work is flawed doesn’t mean it is totally bad. I think there is some good we can find in our creations, especially literary creations. Like Emerson said, we fall short in the end, but hopefully our works are a tool to point something higher and greater and better than we could ever produce. We are all made in the image of God and are God’s creation, which is good, and have been given the ability to create ourselves, which is good. But we are human so ultimately our good won’t be good enough. We try and fail. But the important thing is that we try.

To read or to write? That is the question.

To read or to write? That is the question.

Since I consider myself a writer, my natural response to this question is definitely to write! Why waste time reading someone else’s work when you can create your own!

I guess I am a bit Emersonian in this sense; I am partial to writing over reading any day. I would much rather create my own writing than read someone else’s creation.

Like Emerson stated, poets, writers, authors, fall short. Poets cannot fully capture the essence of nature and this higher spiritual reality in words. But they try- I try. And fail.

But the important thing is- is that the attempt is there. And poets can point the way to capturing the world in writing.

So all in all, I guess reading others work isn’t to be ruled out completely. The human species needs to see where we have come, what we have thought, what we have felt over the years. We need a guide of where we have been so that when we put the pencil in our own hands to write we know where to go.

So, to read or write? How about a mixture of both as the answer…

The Beauty of Nature

The Beauty of Nature

Ah, nature. It’s beautiful isn’t it? Birds, trees, clouds, grass. So much to see. So much to write about.

Emerson’s “The Poet,” reinforces what I had already known about Romanticism. Wander out in nature and find not only yourself but a bond and connection to a deeper meaning and spiritual reality. Break away from the conventions of society, break down those barriers and constraints of form. Be your own person. In the woods. In a tree. By a lake.

I’m reminded of the movie Dead Poet’s Society, where Robin Williams plays a young English teacher of poetry who changes his class of adolescent boys in blooming transcendentalists. The boys sneak off into the woods to a cave where they are one with nature and they read and write poetry. They break free from the constricting norms of the preparatory school and find not only an autonomy of their souls but a deeper connection with a spiritual reality bigger than themselves.

The movie, and Emerson’s “The Poet,” says that we can all be transcendentalist romantics. We can all be poets. It’s there inside of us. We all have the capabilities of going and observing nature and connecting with a higher reality other than ourselves and our society. We are all observers. We have been gifted with sight, we have the ability to see all that our world provides to us. The trick is if we choose to see. If we choose to observe. If we choose to be poets. We all have it in us- it’s just if we actually do it. And not all of us will. We can’t all be poets. Just a fact of life. So the select few- the select few who choose to see the world like others choose not to- are special. They dig deeper and think harder than others. Are they more human because they are poets? I don’t know about “more human” but I think they are more in tune with what it means to be human. They are more in tune with the body the mind and the soul.

Ah, the beauty of nature and its effect on the human species…

What is an author?

What is an author?

That is a very good question. And one I should be asking myself, especially if I call myself a “writer.”

So here we go, I’ll commence my ranting on what I think an author is.

As a young child I would scribble words down on copy paper from my dad’s office and staple it together claiming to be an author of a short novella. I’d also double as an illustrator by doodling in some pictures alongside my words. My stories were usually something I had seen on television or based on another story I had read elsewhere. But nonetheless, my words were my own, and those words created a story that was my own. I was the author of my own book. I told my parents, peers, extended family members, and teachers that my profession in life would be that of an author. I had this firmly embedded in my brain by fourth grade. I remember a guidance counselor asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I replied “I want to be an author.” She laughed and suggested another profession. But I was dead set on being the author of my own stories, my own words. I wanted to be a creator.

An author is a creator.

Now I’m in college. My last semester of my senior year and I’m about to embark into the real world as a so-called writer. But I don’t refer to myself as an author. Why? Are author and writer synonymous? Sure, I’ve written stuff. Loads of stuff. If I consider myself a writer shouldn’t I also consider myself an author? Did I not just assert that an author is a creator? Did I not create those writings with my own fingers tapping across the keyboard or my own fingers flowing across the page of paper? Yes I did create my own writings. Yet I still find myself hesitant to call myself an author. Snap, looks like I’ve contradicted myself.

Does an author have to be published? My young child mentality leaps out and shouts “yes!” Only can you be an author when the words you have created are bound in hardcover and on the shelf in Barnes and Noble. Is this why I do not consider myself a writer because I have not been published?

But what if someone came to me, holding a play I have written, and asked “are you the author of this play?” I would indeed say yes. I am the author of the play.

Now I’m just digging myself deeper and deeper now aren’t I?

Yet I still revert back to my earlier assertion that an author is creator.

Yet another question pops in my mind, does the term author only refer to writers? If I say that an author is a creator, well the word creator can be used to refer to anything. An artist creates a painting. A sculptor creates a sculpture. A chef creates a meal. An engineer creates a bridge. A teacher creates a lesson plan. Are we not all creators of something?

Maybe we are all authors. Authors of anything we create. My sister knitted a scarf. Is she the author of that scarf?

Now that just kind of sounds ridiculous.

So where do I draw the line? Draw the line between author of words and author of scarf? Does there need to be craft, attention to detail, intentionality, deeper meaning? I would say yes to all the above. But one could argue the same for that scarf my sister made. Who knows she could come up with a good reason as to how the scarf symbolizes all the people in the world intertwined by one common thread… blah blah blah.

And again I find myself digging deeper and deeper…

And yet I keep finding myself back to my original assertion, an author is a creator.

Creator of what? And what “creations” can really be authored? Can the term author be used in relation to all things or just “worthy” things? And what makes something worthy?

Now I feel like a philosophy major with more questions than answers.

But like I said, I’m only ranting here…