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.