I began
reading this book at the introduction, which is something I admit I never do. I
tend to skip over it, but I’m glad I started reading here because there were a
few things that got me thinking.
The author
starts by saying that as a college instructor he ran into problems teaching
fiction. His goal was to show students “how books and poems were structured and
how they worked, what values they implied, how they reflected or criticized the
culture in which they were produced” (pg. 1).
The problem came when the students were reading fiction not to learn
what he hoped to teach, but instead to relate to characters or find a message
that fit in with their lives or their own beliefs and ideals.
| Read more for fun than for the study of archetypes |
He goes on
to say that their readings were uncritical and more for enjoyment than
understanding. I can completely
understand how this would be the case because I find that we are trained (or is
it natural) to read fiction mostly for enjoyment as kids, and once we get to
the college level it is a difficult transition to make into the theory-based
reading.
He then goes
on to describe the way that readers change throughout their lives based on
several reasons. I find that readers change the ways they read and appreciate
fiction mostly based on formal education. In my opinion, a child reads fiction
because it is enjoyable. At least, that is why I read it when I was younger. I
loved reading new stories, feeling suspense and excitement or some sort of
attachment to the story. I feel that
this type of reading will continue unless it is interrupted by some formal
training in critical theory and form. Without knowing what to look for in terms
of structure or theory, a reader will continue to read in a way that many might
call superficial.
Once that
training happens, however, it is difficult to turn it off when reading fiction,
and as the reader grows older, he or she will most likely find new connections
between the text and life in general, whether it be through a feminist lens or
a Marxist or historical one.
| Though I'm partial to good ol' Derrida. I mean, look at that hair. |
However, I
find it hard to believe that a reader will instinctively know how to read
critically without being taught how to do so. But honestly, I think that’s ok.
I don’t think it is wrong to read solely for pleasure or for making personal
connections instead of global ones.
I am
interested in reading more of the book to find out how Appleyard sees growth in
readers as they transition from child to adult and whether that transition has
anything to do with formal education.
Talia: I agree with you that critical reading needs training and that students cannot just start reading critically naturally. I also believe it depends on the purpose of reading to decide which reading approach we should take. If you are reading something for the critical analysis, then yes, you need to read the text critically. But if you are just reading a text for relaxation, then what is wrong with simply reading for enjoyment?
ReplyDeleteI feel what the author is calling a problem really isn't a problem. These students were reading with an aesthetic stance granted that wasn't what he wanted but that was something. I think he should have started with what they knew and how they related the book to themselves and then move to the critical from there.
ReplyDeleteAfter reading Rosenblatt I agree that there is nothing wrong with reading in an aesthetic stance and I do it all the time. I love a good book and just curling up with it on a rainy day. I do enough critical reading in my science job that it nice to just read for fun. I do think there is something to the age issue. As get older I am starting to appreciate the classics. I even joined a reading group in my last job. We talked about the book not as PhD might, but more like our group work at the beginning of this class. I look forward your posts.
ReplyDeleteI still enjoy reading fiction, mostly tween fiction, for pleasure, but I do suppose I am more apt to find irregularities within the text. For example, I was reading Rudolfo Anaya's Alburquerque and I could not get it out of my head how sexist he was being. If I had not had formal classes on feminism, I'm not so sure I would have read the book this way. It is an interesting idea, but I wouldn't agree wholeheartedly that formal training almost ruins fiction.
ReplyDelete