Thursday, September 29, 2011

Revolution and the Word: Ch 3 and 4


I’d like to first thank Cathy Davidson for ruining the end of Charlotte Temple for me. A simple “Spoiler Warning” would have been nice…

Anywho, I’d like to begin this post by introducing a quote from one of my favorite novels—Walker Percy’s The Moviegoer

 “The fact is I am quite happy in a movie, even a bad movie.” 

Now I know this quote is really simple, and it applies to film, but I’m going to attempt to relate it to these two chapters from Revolution and the Word. Bare with me.

When I got to the end of chapter four, I began to think about the ways in which fiction functions in my own life. Davidson uses these two chapters to show us how people of the early republic used the novel in their everyday lives, and how it was a means by which they could rebel against governing ideologies. Overall, I feel that Davidson comes to the conclusion that novels were mainly read because of their ability to “amuse” and “instruct.” People got something from novels that they simply couldn’t get from other literary forms.

Novels could be “emotionally intense, physically fulfilling, imaginatively active, socially liberating, and educationally progressive,” according to Davidson. If you ask me, that’s assigning some serious power to books. But in a way, she seemed to be getting at something far more personal than she initially lets on.

Late in chapter four, Davidson gives examples of the ways readers annotated their novels. One example in particular struck me as the defining moment in these two chapters, as well as my reason for thinking of the aforementioned quote. She writes, “Of Course, not all readers were so positive about their books,” and she then goes on to give the following example of a reader that was not particularly fond of Samuel Relf’s Infidelity, or the Victims of Sentient: “A book more pouted with destruction and abominable sentiments cannot be punt into the hands of anyone—shame to him who wrote it, to her who patronize it, and to the age and country that produced it.”

After I stopped laughing at this reader’s commentary—which I found both ridiculous and extremely well articulated—I realized how happy it made me that Davidson included it in this book. Sure, not everyone liked what he or she were reading, but the fact that they were reading and then articulating what they felt about the novel is almost more important.

So let’s go back to the quote I used to introduce this blog: “The fact is I am quite happy in a movie, even a bad movie.” This is how I feel about literature, films, music, and really any type of art form. Sure, it’s one thing to read something or watch something that is truly inspiring, but I believe that I get more out of reading or watching the things I don’t like than I do with the things I enjoy. The ability to be critical of a work and to question it is an extremely valuable tool.

I have a hard time going to the movies with my family, because I usually just end up getting mad at the end of the night. My parents and I went to see “Tree of Life” this summer, and without going into too much detail, they both agreed that the movie was awful. My attempts to defend the film, or even give responses their utter disgust, were shut down with the response of “Whatever Klay, it was too long and it sucked.”

Which brings me to the image. Some of you may know the story behind it, but for those who do not, this was posted outside of a movie theater in Connecticut after some customers had stormed out a screening of "Tree of Life" demanding their money back. Though for me, the best part of it is the theater asking audiences to "expand their horizons." I'm not advocating that we all become literary or film elitists, but I left this week's reading thinking a lot about the "pleasure" or "amusement' I get from thinking critically about art, whether I like it or not. I can't remember the last time I walked out of a movie, or stopped reading a book because I didn't "like" it, mainly because I get more enjoyment in talking about it afterwords. Perhaps that's why I continue to study literature. 




Thursday, September 22, 2011

Revolution and The Word: Ch 1 and 2

To be completely honest, I was rather bored with reading these two chapters. It felt like Davidson was restating a lot of the economic and societal factors that affected the novel and the reading public that Starr discussed. This is no fault of Davidson, of course, but I struggled to find something interesting or new to write in my blog. 

And I think this is something worth noting: as I've done the readings for the first month of this course, I've simultaneously been looking for blogging topics. This is a problem because I haven't really been paying attention to the story that each individual author is trying to tell. I guess you could say that my reading experience, so far, has been tainted by my constant search for interesting concepts or ideas to write about in my blog.  In doing this, I almost missed the point of Davidson's first few chapters, and it wasn't until I got to the end of chapter two when I realized that she was setting up her entire argument with some very important information about the history of the novel in America. 

Reading about this history (the ways audiences received and responded to books, the struggles of the book industry, the role of printers and copyright laws, etc) seemed, to me, like unnecessary information in Davidson's attempt to describe the sociological impact of the novel in America. It was almost as if I were asking her to "cut to the chase." I even wrote in the margins at the end of chapter 2, when Davidson begins to discuss the relationship between virtue and economic reward, "here we go", meaning that I was pleased to find the she was starting to connect the dots. 

But of course, I only felt this way because I was looking for something new to write about, instead of paying attention to Davidson's intentions. She writes at the end of Chapter 2 that the novel found success in the early republic despite a lack of economic reward. Davidson sees this as "a classic example of the ways in which art sometimes circumvents the economic facts that ostensibly determine it" (99). There needs to be an awareness, according to Davidson, of the novel's history and its economic obstacles in order to understand that there were social and psychological factors that contributed to its ultimate success (100). 

Needless to say, I felt a little foolish after reading Davidson's conclusion to Chapter 2. I missed the point, and it is certainly an important one, especially with how it relates to so many of my previous posts. I've constantly been referring to the power of art in a society and how the changes in which we're consuming art will effect what we expect from art and from one another. Davidson uses these two chapters to make that very same point: the role art plays in a society (the novel in Davidson's case) almost transcends the economic and societal factors that attempt to pull against its success. 

When I took the GRE last fall, my essay question asked me to make an argument for or against the claim that a struggling economy should cut government funding for the arts unless it can adequately support "more important"issues (like healthcare, education, etc). I won't get into what my response was, but this question, along with Davidson's book, asks a very though provoking and difficult question. At what point does the value of art surpass those other needs that a society requires? 


Thursday, September 15, 2011

Revolution and the Word: Introduction

To say that Cathy Davidson's view of American history differs from that of Paul Starr is a bit of an understatement. There were times while reading this introduction when I felt Mrs. Davidson was directly addressing Mr. Starr. My reading experience went a little something like this: "Huh, that sounds a little bit like some anti-exceptionalism," only to find that 3 pages later Davidson directly addresses the issue of American exceptionalism. Or, "Hmm, Davidson seems to have a bit of a liberal perspective,"….5 pages later…"Oh look, Davidson recognizes that some people may categorize her as a liberal."

This is not, by an means, an indictment of Davidson. I found it quite refreshing to read something that almost directly addressed my questions as a reader. It seemed that almost every time I questioned Davidson'e accuracy, political slant, or historical perspective, she addressed those some questions and recognized that her perspective on American history raises a lot of questions. It was almost as if she predicted how I was going to read her book…like a witch!

In class I voiced  my approval of Starr as a historian with an interesting story to tell, but reading Davidson has led me to see a few more problems with Starr's writing. I won't list them here, but I will instead point to why I think Davidson provides a more fair and balanced view of American history.

Overall, Davidson doesn't make broad generalizations about the effects of reading on the American people. Where Starr points to the unifying effects of literacy and rise of the printing press, Davidson recognizes that the new American print culture may have led to significant class struggles and dissension amongst individuals. One passage in particular stands out as almost a direct rebutal to Starr. Starr writes about how America had no cultural centers, and this led to diversity of opinions and a rich cornucopia of ideas that didn't stream from one centralized location. Almost as if to say, "ya, but.." Davidson writes, "Rural, scattered, a nation of immigrants with different cultural and religious traditions, with poverty and homelessness, pestilence and slavery, with vitriolic party politics as well as political corruption, with mobocracy and would-be aristocracy, and very little in way of high culture, America had no urban center of population, power and culture equivalent to London or Paris" (23). 

This is definitely a severe over-simplification, but here's how I understand the difference between Starr and Davidson…

Starr: 'Merica is special. People could say what they wanted, read what they wanted, and form their own opinions. This is all good.

Davidson: This all may not be so good. And it probably didn't happen that way.

…but I'll turn my attention away from the comparisons between Starr and Davidson, and focus on a topic Davidson develops in this introduction: the idea that the energies and ideologies that go into sparking a revolution have to be suppressed and controlled once the new governing democracy is in power. It is one of the great ironies of the American Revolution. 

The specific line that comes to mind is where Davidson quotes Antonio Negri and writes, "if revolutions are based on utopian dreams, constitutions are designed to prevent the anarchic imaginings that lead to revolution" (12). This is an interesting concept that I have never given much thought to, and it makes me think of America's recent conflicts in the Middle East. In America's attempt to promote democracy in countries like Iraq, it is important to recognize that introducing new political ideals into a foreign place may require the suppression of those very ideals in order to maintain civility and compliance. For example, the American military has found it necessary to "police" and oversee the implementation of democracy in Iraq--a concept that in and of itself  is rather un-democratic. 

Davidson writes that "America is freedom definitionally--so much so that it does not have to be always free and equal in order to support freedom." After reading this, my initial thought was that is was a little harsh. But the more I think about it, Davidson is simply demonstrating the utilitarian nature of the American way. There is a tendency to ignore America's ugly past so that the rosy picture of American freedom and democracy can be painted. 

To my mind, this is fascinating stuff, and it's even more interesting to see how Davidson uses the novel to illustrate the "divisiveness" that is so often ignored in the origin stories of this country. As Davidson writes, history tends to "celebrate" and glorify these origin stories, but I'm very intrigued by the idea that the early American novel tells an origin story that you wouldn't see depicted at "historical theme parks" or "Fourth of July parades."

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Movie Recommendation

Hello all,


In light of yesterday's conversation in class about whats students are like today and where they're headed, I would like to recommend a very good film called "Afterschool." I'll use a quote from the film's website to give you a description: "When [a young student] accidentally captures on camera the horrific death of two girls, he’s tasked with memorializing their lives in a film meant to help speed up the school's healing process."


It's a film that asks the same questions we've been asking in class: How has reading changed? What does it mean to be literate? What does the future hold for students and teachers? In my opinion, this, more than any recent film I can recall, captures where we are as a generation of students, and where we're going.


I would encourage all of you to check this one out. It's available on Netflix instant viewing. I also own it on DVD, and I'd be happy to lend it to any of you!


Let me also say that I recommend this film with EXTREME CAUTION! The subject matter is very macabre, and some of the content is rather explicit and graphic. I just wanted to warn you ahead of time that it is not a film for the faint of heart. But if that sort of thing doesn't bother you, then I think you'll really enjoy it and see a lot of comparisons between the film and our conversation from yesterday's class. 


Have a great weekend...

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Creation of the Media: Ch 4 and wrapping up Starr


“American must be as independent in literature as she is in Politics, as famous for arts as for arms; and it is not impossible but a person of my youth may have some influence in exciting a spirit of literary industry.”

If there were ever a mantra for people in the field of literary studies, this is it. I cannot speak for everyone, but when I think about the role of an educator, specifically in the artistic fields, it is to do just what the young Noah Webster was referring to—inspire in others the societal significance of the arts.

In my first two blogs, I’ve done a lot of comparing and contrasting between the America of the early modern period, and the America of today. And in doing so, I think I’ve had a bit of a condemning tone when writing about our current society. I don’t want to give the impression that I’m this anti-American rebel that wants to pick up and move to Canada because we’re all going to hell in a hand basket. I love America, and as I write this post on the eve of September 11th, I know that I have good reason to be more patriotic than ever. But in reading these 150 pages of Starr, I’ve done a lot of thinking about the ways in which literature has seen a declining role in our country in recent years. It’s tough not to view the period Starr writes about without filtering it through the lens of present-day society.

Starr quotes an American publisher that references the ways literature changed from the late 18th century into the early 19th.  This publisher notes how people no longer approach books and newspapers with “reverence” and “awe”…”How the world has changed.” I can’t even count the number of times I've had those same thoughts about current American society when reading Starr.

I’ve found one overarching theme that connects the two periods: America was then, and is now, in a period where the value of literature was competing against a number of other societal values. The key difference, though, is that during the early modern period, literature was competing to find its place in American culture. On the other hand, literature today is fighting to maintain its very existence. In short, I envision two different worlds: one where literature was on the rise, and the other where literature is on the decline.

Webster’s quote has it’s meaning in both the time it was written and today. But in both instances, people are having to learn or re-learn the value of literature. Try to imagine a world where people saw the novel as a dangerous, manipulative, and wicked weapon against a functioning society. That’s giving some serious authority to power of books. Today, when I even mention to some of my friends and family that I am studying literature, I get this blank stare that seems to say, “Why the hell would you want to study that?” Meaning, a good portion of society doesn’t place a great deal of value on literature and the impact it has on a society.

For all of the fault’s we’ve found in class with Starr’s American “Exceptionalism,”—and there are plenty—I find that he does a great job of portraying the way the written word can greatly impact a society. One element that struck me was how the popularity of literature in the 19th Century was able to break down the “traditional hierarchy of taste” that previously existed. To me this relationship between popular lit and its effects on societal hierarchy are fascinating, and it’s an element of these few chapters that I would like to research a little further.

But as we come to the end of our reading of Starr, I’d like to know what other people think about the role literature should have in our society. We’re all studying lit for a specific reason, but I’d like to think it's because we believe it has some type of importance beyond stimulating the senses. I guess you could say the theme of my blog over the past three weeks has been how we’re developing into a society that is obsessed with authenticity and FACT. So the question I pose to you all is this: is that a bad thing, and what role should the arts (I’m thinking more towards lit, film, and music) play in a modern society?

PS-You don’t have to answer. It’s just something to think about.