Sure, when I read romance I immediately edit out any reference to the man having physical characteristics that don’t appeal to me. But I wouldn’t argue that the man didn’t actually have those characteristics, because it’s right there in the text. How I prefer to think of something and what it actually is are two different things. Likewise, I am aware of what I want things to mean and what they actually, probably mean.
And I do write fiction. It’s damned hard. I’ve seen some WTF takes on my own work, which I often attribute to my failure as an artist. I have nightmares about my words being ripped out of context and used to internet shame me. And I think about worst case scenarios in which authorial intent is ignored and the work is used to hurt people. Friedrich Nietzsche’s work was coopted by his Nazi sister after he slid into a syphilitic stupor and the dude hated Anti-Semitism. How many Nazis were galvanized by his work? I’ve (years and years ago) argued that the textual evidence does not support Nietszche being a fascist, but he sure didn’t make it easy with that ubermensch stuff. Likewise, surrealist art in 1920s/30s Spain was meant to provoke strong sentiment against fascism and pretending otherwise would be a discredit to the very real sacrifices they made. Have you seen Guernica? Could it mean anything else?
For me authorial intent, historical context, and literary criticism shine a light into every crevice of a work and give me a greater sense of cohesion than I ever would have on my own.
And it’s fine if someone wants to interpret it some other way, but if they mean to persuade me to think differently, they’d better back it up with evidence.
In situations where there are objective facts, anything that contradicts that fact is objectively wrong. In situations where there are no objective facts, no answers are objectively right or wrong.
Concider my example of looking at a cloud–there is one and only one “right” answer to what a cloud is–it is a floating clump of water dropets. Period. Anyone who says that is is a dragon or an alien spacecraft or an angel is objectively wrong. As for what a cloud looks like, sure, say that it looks like a dragon, or looks like a alien spacecraft, or looks like an angel. Why not? But that is a completely meaningless statement outside of goofing around. And I certainly would roll my eyes at a profession or college major of “talking about what clouds look like.”
So, about symbolism in stories–if you don’t have explicit statements from the author about their symbolic intent for an element of a story, sure, you can speculate your head off. But it is about as meaningful as speculating over what clouds look like. And in cases where you have the author explictly saying what the element does or does not symbolize, then other interpretations are rendered objectively wrong.
I’m sorry to break this to ya, but there’s no such thing as an objective fact. All things exist in a world of context. Your definition of what a cloud is: a floating clump of water dropets, means nothing to me if i dont speak english. And even if I do speak english, you and I may have different definitions on what a “clump” is. And what the heck is a dropet? You and I have to agree on a whole host of things in order for that sentence to even make sense, let alone be true. You and I could work together to hone that definition. We could loop in scientists from every field to help us in our quest. And we can come up with a 42 page dissertation on what a cloud is, but we would still be no closer to the “objective truth” of what a cloud is than the phrase it’s a ducky. All of the words in the english language, hell, all of the words of every language ever spoken on this planet combined are inadequate to explain what a cloud is. But, it’s a ducky sure is fun to believe.
I’ve spent over 35 years in an industry of professional story tellers. I’ve known artists in all disciplines; from rank amateurs to acclaimed visionaries. And there’s one piece of wisdom I’ve learned that is as close to an objective truth as I will ever get in my life and it’s this: Art doesn’t exist with out the audience. Until then, it’s just words on a page or colors on a canvas or what have you. It’s the audience that brings that work to life. And they bring with them all their baggage: their life experiences and inexperiences, their likes and dislikes, and even just their mood. And each time is a new experience. The work has changed. Actually changed. It may be a subtle almost imperceptible change or it might be a mind blowing reevaluation of the meaning. The words are the same or the colors, so it’s nothing that the artist did. It’s all about the audience.
Consider: If everyone believes that Born in the USA is this great jingoistic anthem, does the tidbit of information that that was not Bruce’s intention being fact change anything? No. But give that tidbit to the audience and it just might change how they view the song. But it’s not really about Springsteen anymore, is it?
Do you roll your eyes at every creative profession? Do you roll your eyes at every opinion-based profession?
Sure, “cloud gazing 101” would be silly. But “Interior decorating 101” isn’t. Professional columnists, who offer their opinions about the news, aren’t all silly. Movie reviewers aren’t silly.
Darren, when people talk about a computing cloud, in that context, what is a cloud?
Darren, I read a book where the author said, ‘a cloud passed over her face.’ What is ‘a cloud’ in that sentence?
Darren, someone said that they cut their hike short because of the ‘cloud of mosquitos.’ What did they mean?
Darren, after your last post, your statements about objective facts are under a cloud of suspicion. Is there a floating clump of water droplets around your statements now?
It turns out that in different contexts, “cloud” has different meanings. If you’re determined to stick to the idea that “anything that contradicts [objective facts] is objectively wrong,” you’ll end up misunderstanding the great bulk of human communication.
Humans use metaphor all the freakin’ time. Teaching kids how to recognize and how to create metaphors is vital work, and litcrit is a great place to do that.
Never said they didn’t. But it’s unusual in the extreme for there to be a meaning the author doesn’t intend. Does “Helter Skelter” have a hidden meaning? Charles Manson thought so.
“Meaning” doesn’t have an existence outside of heads. It’s a neurological phenomenon. So “Helter Skelter” had a specific meaning to Charles Manson, and that meaning is every bit as real a phenomenon as the meaning it had to John Paul George and Ringo.
Whether a meaning is real is not an interesting question. What’s interesting is whether that meaning is persuasive or cool or beautiful to you, or more broadly, to a lot of people.
Seen that way, of course the author has a significant voice in meanings: the person who creates something does so for a reason, and organized it a specific way for that reason. Finding out what that reason was can often help you understand a pretty cool way to interpret the work.
But there’s no reason why other people can’t talk about the meaning that shows up in their heads. Maybe you’ll find those meanings interesting or persuasive or beautiful. Maybe you won’t. But the conversation is often worth having.
I think that depends on what you mean by “a meaning.” If you mean “what the author meant,” then what you say is almost tautologically true, though we could still argue over whether the author had to consciously and deliberately intend them.
If you interpret “meaning” more broadly, it is incredibly common for creative works to have meanings that their creators didn’t intend.
It may or may not be relevant, but I am reminded of some of the things J. R. R. Tolkien said about allegory. A couple of different things Tolkien said (which I’ve copied from this interesting discussion):
The latter suggests to me that real life, like stories, is full of meaning.
This is comparing apples to bricks; the only similarity is that they’re both red. The purpose of a literary essay is not to argue a position for debate. It’s to analyze the work. If the analysis is bullshit, then the essay is not properly analyzing the work.
Sure. But it’s a mistake to think that your treasure hunt for symbolism says anything about the story. It tells more about you and your beliefs.
Sure it does. But if an author goes to the trouble to include symbolism and allegory, they’re not going to hide it as a treasure hunt that only can be found by people who read it multiple times and have to publish or perish. Why go to the trouble of write symbolism that no one is going to spot (other than creating a in-joke)?
So you’re saying it’s all about you. It might be valid to say, “This is my interpretation,” but it is arrogant to say, “The story means what I say it means.”
I don’t disagree with what you’re saying. What I am disagreeing with your insistence that your interpretation defines what the story is about. Your argument is, basically, “I interpret the story this way so everyone else has to.”
I’m saying that people who write fiction understand how to write fiction. In other words, they know what they’re doing, and they know more than people they don’t. This is not a radical idea: carpenters know more about carpentry than non-carpenters. But you wouldn’t go and say “this chair meant to have six legs because the chairmaker subconsciously wanted it that way and I can show hints of it in the design.”
A writer knows what’s in the story. Everything there is consciously put there (with very rare exceptions).
I do know that people who actually write fiction think this search for hidden meanings is silly. The professor who brought up the Misfit’s Black Hat was a writer himself.
I will say this reader-response theory you’re talking about is one of the silliest things I’ve ever heard. What it means is that a text can have any meaning at all, which makes it completely meaningless. The analysis has nothing to do with the text, and everything to do with the individual doing the reading. You could claim “Mary had a little lamb” has to do with the range wars in the American west, or a meal at a restaurant, or a condemnation of the American educational system, or bestiality, or anything else you decide to free associate. It’s an entertaining game, but it has nothing to do with the meaning of the work.
Getting back on topic, people think Jethro Tull’s Aqualung is a rock opera. Ian Anderson disputed this, and he’s right: it’s a concept album certainly, but a rock opera by definition has a story line.
Quite a few songs like “Helter Skelter” are designed by their composers to leave the meaning up to the audience. Paul McCartney didn’t care if the listener knew what a helter skelter was. He just wanted to out-rock a Who song. John Lennon had no idea what yellow matter custard is; he left it to the listener to give it meaning.
Agreed. But some things are not meant to have a meaning. “I Am the Walrus” is a prime example of that: it’s a bunch of free association lyrics strung together.
I have no problem with works not having a deep meaning or having no meaning at all. Some people, though, can’t accept the idea.
I remember reading Gertrude Stein for a class and talking about a particular work that I admired because it was was deliberately meaningless. You couldn’t even tell if words were meant to be used as a verb or a noun. I thought that was incredibly clever and extremely difficult to achieve, especially at the level Stein was doing it and had nothing but praise for her doing it. The professor teaching it was visibly upset at the suggestion.
Only if you deliberately use a disingenuous, dishonest argument. You know I was talking about the white fluffy things in the sky. To twist that to imply that I could be talking about something else, you aren’t sure? That makes you sound like Donald Trump or Tucker Carlson. That crap may not be beneath you, but it certainly is beneath me.
And yet, you still misunderstand Alien, even after it was explained to you many, many times.
I don’t know if that means your premise is wrong, or that Ridely Scott et al know more than you do,
I am the type of person who listens to the music in songs but I don’t pay much attention to lyrics. I thought this was a love song until my then-girlfriend pointed out that the guy is a stalker.
I do understand Alien. It’s designed to be a mindless scary movie with people taking action solely so that the audience will jump. It certainly succeeds at that, but I insist that a movie have characters behaving logically and intelligently and not just running around like idiots so that the plot works.
It’s a perfect example of “an idiot plot,” which only works because everyone involved is an idiot. And I am not interpreting the meaning of it; I am showing the plot holes and character idiocy in it that is needed to make it work.