I love when my outside life intersects with a conversation here.

I was just reading an article today that was looking to create a taxonomy of instrinsic values in reading that would differentiate the avid reader from the aliterate one. The researchers did a content analysis of current text and research articles written by specialists in literature and literacy instruction.

Happiness (that is pleasure, delight, joy... or in terms of the conversation here, perhaps, identification with characters, or the appeal to one's soul as Deb poetically puts it) has the highest ranking of intrinsic value, followed by self-knowledge (using transactional theory, that is saying looking for how reading helps us understand ourselves, and begin to consider other alternatives for our lives).

Language Awareness (which includes looking at how language in literature works, to an awareness of prosody, style, themes etc. ... the building blocks of lit crit in other words) ranked with a relatively low intrinsic value.

In other words, not wanting to engage in lit crit, is neither surprising nor an indicator of un-intellectual pursuits (that is an intentional use) and in fact lit crit is only one of 9 reasons (as part of the taxonomy) or values that people look for in reading. Moreover, in terms of what motivates people to read, it's much lower than happiness, self knowledge, world knowledge, success (reading necessary for success in academic, social or professional roles), imagination (verbal appeal to the senses) or inclusion (reading as a social event).

I'm a big fan of the canon. I enjoy reading plenty of poetry, some books and some plays that are considered part of it by folks like Harold Bloom. I love to discuss it. I don't always love to, in a paraphrase of the current poet laureate, tie it to a chair to beat a meaning out of it.

But frankly, so what? And honestly, as a teacher, I'm pretty anti-lit crit because being told I had to beat the meaning out of things made me hate to read for a while. I try not to go that route with my own students because fundamentally what matters most is to foster a love of reading, with an ability to parse it if asked to do so, but without killing the love of The Book with a constant look at literary devices or symbolism.

I would argue that specific books of the canon don't get discussed here because it's hard to have a discussion of any single book, especially in depth discussion, of any kind.

There's a lot of reccing of books. But if you don't read within a specific genre or set of genres or even authors then it's harder.

It's too general, in some ways, to have those conversations. Instead, lots of what happens is "Have you read X? I loved blah blah blah." followed by "Haven't read X, but have you read Y?" followed by "Hated X, but loved Y."

It's hard to have that meaty discussion across several books all being recced.

I don't think it's anti-intellectual, so much as taste.

And I hate being told I should read things because they are good for me. I'm an adult with the power (usually) over what I choose to spend my time reading. If that's Shakespeare (and let me tell you, a reread of Merchant of Venice gives me chills becuase I can't figure out how he did it.. how he can tap into something that is still relevant 500 years later) or Stendahl or Kent Haruf or Jennifer Cruisie, then it is my choice and not a signal that I'm pro-intellectualism or anti-intellectualism.

Books aren't always broccoli nor are they always molasses cookies.

This is true, to a t. But somehow other people were insisting that we were the oppressors rather than the oppressed. Who knows? That's when I started wondering if there was an underlying gender issue. Maybe that's the way it was. I know my wife pointed out that all of the Great Books she'd been forced to read in college were by dead white guys.

There is perhaps some of that.

Our year for IB HL was, IIRC, writing on women. Which meant that the core syllabus revolved around that subject. Of the books Geneva listed, none of them were *by* women. They were, to a number 19th Century Male Authors writing novels and plays about women. I found it rather odd, truth be told, and puzzled over it for months. Surely, if we were studying books about women, one token female would not have been too much to ask?

It could have replaced Madame Bovine.

I'm also sitting up far too late because this discussion has me too keyed up to feel sleepy.

It's an integrated response. I am in the book, reading it, absorbed in it, moved by it and at the same time my brain is conscious that the author is making specific choices, teasing out recurring images, playing with the language, structurally mirroring certain things.

But I do this too, and all the more so now that I'm writing myself. I have no idea if we're analyzing the same things, and I certainly don't have a lit-crit vocabulary for it, since I don't have the formal training. So I wonder if the Grand Canyon I thought we were standing on opposite sides of is actually a ditch.

And I really should go to bed--between this and the questions I was asking over on Bitches, I'm feeling entirely too soul-bared, raw, and weepy.

It's not criticism as I understand lit crit to be (which, admittedly, is probably wrong), but a more straighforward, honest explication of what made the show work, what juicy, delicious metaphors and symbolism lurked below the surface, what made the characters speak to me, what made the journey one I understood (or sometimes didn't) and wanted to take.

See, this is literary criticism. This group of people has done an extraordinary job of explicating Buffy, Angel and Firefly. My enjoyment of these shows has been increased immensely by your ability to see themes and symbolism that I had missed. Most of you have excellent critical skills. What literary criticism is, at its heart, is a way to find more meaning in a text and, for me, frequently a way for me to enjoy it more. It shouldn't be a way to chew up a piece of literature until it is tasteless. I love the "aha" moment when someone else says something that illuminates a book or a Buffy episode for me.

One thing this discussion has really clarified for me is that I think I have become intellectually lazy over the last few years. I have been reading mainly for escape, which is not bad in itself and certainly something I'll never stop doing, but it's time I tackled something more challenging. By challenging, I don't mean broccoli. Or maybe I do, in the sense that it's easy to live on fast food and ice cream, but ultimately unsatisfying.

Ginger, I heart your entire post. I want to eat it up. I was just headed here to respond to what you quoted above - I read that post and shouted out loud "but that's it! That literary criticism right there!"

We do it all the time in show contexts - it's just that somehow, when the topic shifts to books, it seems like an intimidation factor creeps in under the door. I'm really encouraged to try to find a way to counteract that. And like you, I'm taking this conversation in part as a heads-up that I could be challenging myself so much more than I do.

Okay, I just got back from working all night at Universal, and am about to go to bed for a while.

I'm also coming waaaaaaay late to this discussion, and the only comment I have is perhaps a little less relevant now that things have calmed down, or may be throwing gasoline on the fire, but the one comment I have to make is this:

If people are going to talk about a sort of reverse-snobbery they feel in this thread, can we also maybe talk about the snobbery *I* feel in the music thread? Namely, that because I pretty much listen to mainstream rock music, readily available on the radio, that my opinion is flat out ignored by most people in there?

This thread is not the only possible residence of snobbery, and a loaded word like that should probably be left out of the discussion.

I go to sleep now, and await the massive flaming I will receive whilst I'm gone.

It almost made me cry to have to leave work and yesterday's literary thread yesterday, and here I come in to 300 posts. I need access at home. Stat. It must be attended to this weekend, and I shall pay the bill even if it means giving up cigarettes beer food.

It was interesting to read Lilty's comments because there was nothing so radical in her statements, and she was entirely both reasonable and saying, "Hey this is my personal thang" but the effect of her personal statements coupled with high-fives of "Bovary sucks weasel ass" again had a cumulative effect.

Whew. Hec and hayden, I sincerely hope that nothing I said was inflammatory. I tend to think through so much in discussions like this, and in the end my lack of a definitive stance going into it can make me doubt the spiciness of mine own brains. There are Great Books I love and Great Books I hate, but I love reading critically, although my definition of critical reading may differ from others- I certainly don't sit with a magnifying glass and analyze every sentence, unless I'm writing a paper. I do question the ideas of a canon, but when I question, I'm thinking, not condemning. It's how I work. I don't want to seem wishy-washy, but I seem to have a tendancy to see both sides of the coin to a fault.

ION, I'd welcome a book club thread, although not in any sort of substitute to this one.

I don't want to seem wishy-washy, but I seem to have a tendancy to see both sides of the coin to a fault.

You and me both, Lilty.

I read for pleasure a lot, but I'm also an English major. I've written papers on Richard III's identity issues and the use of recurring phrasing and imagery in Less Than Zero. For me, literary analysis, when applied correctly, doesn't kill my enjoyment but enhance it. There's a certain understanding you come to by discovering what, in fact, the writer has consciously or unconsciously done to make the story what it is. It's as if you've lain in bed with the book and it's told you all its secrets.

that because I pretty much listen to mainstream rock music, readily available on the radio, that my opinion is flat out ignored by most people in there?

I heart the Minister. It was a long time before I could say 'I adore Billy Idol with a deep, inordinate passion' without feeling I was getting "musical cripple" or "you just think he's cute" (though he is) or "please, that's just so '80s" in response.

Anyway. Last night I was flipping through one of my college lit books, and I found a short story by James Joyce. Forgive me for utterly blanking on the title, but it's one from "Dubliners". A Catholic woman working in a laundry, some sort of holiday involving cake with a ring baked in it, she attends a party with some Protestants she's living with, something happens during the blindfolded part of the party. But I don't know what happens. She puts her hand is something oddly mushy while blindfolded and choosing an item off a table, everyone around her goes quiet, then there's a great deal of the sort of commotion that happens when something uncomfortable is being covered up. "So what happened?" I'm thinking. The character has no idea and she's completely baffled by the fuss, and she's been established as an uncomplicated soul who believes the best in people she knows and doesn't expect cruel things to happen to her. She apparently shrugs and moves on with her life.

In that the story provoked thought on my part on all the things that could have happened--and if that was the part--then the story succeeded. Was the character supposed to have learned something or been changed by the events? The main theme I got from the story was "Nice, simple folk who don't mean any harm in the world are perfect victims for small-minded abuse."

Re: Joyce's language. The woman's chin and nose are described as especially pointed, and Joyce refers multiple times to how her chin and nose almost touch as she talks or laughs or what have you. In a short story I expect every image to have a dual purpose, but I couldn't think of what the purpose of this image was, other than to establish that she's a bit odd looking

What did I miss?

See, this is literary criticism. ... What literary criticism is, at its heart, is a way to find more meaning in a text and, for me, frequently a way for me to enjoy it more. It shouldn't be a way to chew up a piece of literature until it is tasteless. I love the "aha" moment when someone else says something that illuminates a book or a Buffy episode for me.

Well, that's good! I guess I was thinking about some of the other forms of criticism, which I *am* fairly ignorant about. Aren't there schools of thought that *do* want to psychoanalyze the authors to discover meaning, etc.? Kind of like confessional poetry, but after the fact, by outside readers? (If that makes any sense.)

Maybe it is just easier for all of us to discuss Buffy or Angel because we've all watched the same episode at roughly the same time, and maybe because there's nothing hanging over our heads when we discuss it--we're not being graded, others' perception of our intelligence doesn't rest on whether or not we see the symbolism in Becoming or Innocence or what have you.

And yes, the joy of it is, for me, revealing each delicious morsel of a book or an episode or a movie, not coming to some conclusion about why it's "worthy."

If people are going to talk about a sort of reverse-snobbery they feel in this thread, can we also maybe talk about the snobbery *I* feel in the music thread? Namely, that because I pretty much listen to mainstream rock music, readily available on the radio, that my opinion is flat out ignored by most people in there?

Sean, I hardly ever venture into the music thread because I can't keep up in here, Great Write, or Bitches, for the most part, but I have encountered what you're feeling in real life, to be sure. Strangely, it's never bothered me, though. I've got Madonna shelved next to Mozart, and Wilco shelved next to Michele Branch. For me, if music moves me, or makes me want to move, it's good. End of sentence. Pop and mainstream rock are a huge part of my listening experience, but I can often be melody's whore. I've been told I *should* like older Liz Phair, for example, but I never enjoy listening to it. I get why her lyrics on Exile in Guyville and Whipsmart are clever and scalding and innovative, but I'd rather read them than listen to the CDs.

Back to packing.