Grappling with the Patriarchy, Socially and Economically

According to Critical Theory Today, the big concern in materialist feminism is how women are economically and socially oppressed (Tyson, 93-94). Colette Guillaumin notes that women are expected to give up their personal time and the products of their bodies (hair, milk, children), while being obligated to provide sex to men and care to their family members (cited in Tyson, 95). This is made more complicated by considering class as well; for example, higher class women do less domestic work than lower class women due to the ability to hire paid help. However, all women experience this appropriation, as Guillaumin calls it, to some extent. My interest is in how women subvert, exploit, or otherwise rage against the expectation that they are supposed to give, give, give to men.

There is a compelling line in the materialist feminism section of the text that inspired me: “Women’s sexual obligation to men occurs in both marriage and in prostitution. For Guillaumin, the primary difference between the two is that time limits are placed on a man’s use of prostitutes, and he has to pay for the specific acts he wants” (Tyson, 95). Within the patriarchy, we see a limiting duality to womanhood: “good girl” or “bad girl.” Now the bad girl, the whore, is socially disparaged, but this quote suggests she has more economic power than her counterpart because men have to meet her on her terms. This is precisely why she’s disparaged, because the patriarchal male considers her a threat to his absolute power (Tyson 86). So the text gave me one very overt answer to my question, but the thing that snagged me is that prostitutes do not have much social power. The choice between “good girl” and “bad girl” seems to be a choice between which appropriations to attempt to reclaim, the social ones or the economic ones. We know women are not actually this dichotomy, but how do they present their complexities in a way that men are forced to acknowledge? Better yet, is that even possible under a patriarchy?

This week, I looked for my answers in Thelma & Louise, and I came to the tentative conclusion that this is possible for women to achieve this presentation, but it is difficult to sustain. In Thelma & Louise, Thelma starts out as the “good girl,” keeping house and submitting to her asshole husband’s authority. She has little independence from him, and she’s expected to put all her time and energy into tending to his lifestyle needs. Meanwhile, Louise is more of the “bad girl.” While not a prostitute, she supports herself, and she has agency outside of a man from the beginning. This dichotomy quickly starts to break down once, as neither woman fits wholly into either type of women. Thelma cheats on her husband and robs gas stations, completely flipping her social and economic “goodness” on their head. At the same time, Louise asks her boyfriend for a loan and tries to figure out a solution to their problems. This comes to a head at the end of the movie. The audience knows that Thelma and Louise are complex people… and then they die. More precisely, the process through which their humanity and personhood came to light leave them in a place where choosing to die is better than any alternative.  

Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today. 3rded., Routledge, 2015.

Thelma & Louise. Directed by Ridley Scott, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayers Studios Inc., 1991.

Lesser Known Keats, Refined

I am still interested in Keats’ lesser known poetry, namely the poems from his collection published in 1817, as well as individual poems that were published in 1816. These are the earliest of his poems, and they are quite distinct next to his famous odes, which were mostly written in 1819-1820. Thus, this project now specifically acknowledges that these works were his early works, though I implied as much in my last pitch. I am still interested in examining the literary discourse around these works in Keats’ own moment and now, as I have found minimal discussion in both periods. This discussion is dwarfed by the conversation around the poems Keats wrote later. At the least, though, these poems are practice for the odes. More likely, in my opinion, they are genius of their own. In looking at the little criticism around these lesser known works, and the relatively large lack thereof, I want to get to the core of what Keats’ “genius” actually is and how these poems feed into that rather than detract from it. I believe this will create a more dimensional and cohesive understanding of Keats’ entire body of text, rather than finding certain pieces in contention with each other or simply not acknowledging large sections.

 Since there is an element of examining the criticism around Keats’ work over the past two hundred years, I believe there is a historical and/or cultural context here that is working for some of his poems and perhaps working against other. I plan to implement New Historicism in parsing this out. I think perhaps part of the answer to the secondary question of what Keats’ genius is could lie in that as well, but I also feel like there’s another type of criticism that would be useful for specifically outlining that. I’m not sure about any of the ones we have studied already right now.

As for an additional source, I found an old examination of two critiques that came out when Keats first published his initial collection. This gives me a clearer idea of what people were thinking at that time and why, specifically in terms of Keats in relation to other poets. This relationship to the other Romantics, who seem to have cast a long shadow over Keats, could very well be relevant to why these works are left relatively untouched.

Additional Secondary Source

 Cornelius, Roberta D. “Two Early Reviews of Keats’s First Volume.” PMLA, vol. 40, no. 1, 1925, pp. 193–210. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/457276.

Toeing the Interpretive Line

The first tenant of New Historicism and Cultural Criticism that Lois Tyson gives us in Critical Theory Today is that “the writing of history is a matter of interpretation, not facts” (275). This means that when we interact with history – in a literary context or otherwise – must acknowledge that there is likely more than one way to take all the pieces of that New Historicists use to view a time, from the discourse to personal identity to events, to commentary on those events. But Tyson also warns that interpretation doesn’t mean that we have free reign to say whatever we want (275). This seems especially poignant in Cultural Criticism, where politics become much more important. So, this week I’m interested in the tension between interpretation and accurate political analysis in Cultural Criticism.

The key aspect of Cultural Criticism (and New Historicism) that I think will be most helpful to do this is the concept that everything happening in a moment is in conversation with everything else that is happening. This means we must draw from a large base of primary sources, some of which may conflict, and contextual information, such as the structure, conventions, and discussions happening in a particular area at a particular time, all of which probably conflict or complicate each other. With this in mind, it seems more likely that we could throw away “bad” interpretations with more ease than we could come to a cohesive and comprehensive “good” one. But, ever the optimist, I believe we can do better than that. These two theories have another important facet; they’re interested in giving equal voice to marginalized groups. Without delving into more specific theories, this is a jumping-off point for the direction Cultural Criticism should take. When we lift the voices of oppressed groups and give their experiences the weight that has been previously absent, then there is a way to begin tackling this constant, dynamic process we call “culture.”

To look at these broad concepts in the context of a specific text, I looked to Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. Set in 19th century France, largely in Paris, it would be easy to fall into an “old” historicism line of thinking with this book. I’m sure in the past, scholars have made lists of key dates and important political figures and the like to try to parse out an analysis to this vast book. But Les Misérables is a piece in conversation with what is going on real-world France at the time, not simply a summary projected onto fictional characters. In fact, the characters themselves and their actions are reflective of Hugo’s interpretation of the tension between the people of France and the power structures that have put them in such terrible situations. Jean Valjean spends nineteen years in prison over bread, Fantine has to become a prostitute, Cosette is treated poorly by the Thénardiers,  Gavroche has no home but the streets, Les Amis de l’ABC rise up in rebellion later in the book – all these things are different facets of commentary on the situation in France that could be looked at alone or in correlation with “facts” but say something much more important in connection with each other. That is, that something is wrong with the way those in power exist outside of such misery. But even so, this is just a facet of the larger cultural exchange going on at the time, and to truly, properly derive some understanding from Les Misérables would require a vast number of texts from the same place and period, because one book is only one small piece of the culture it comes from.

Works Cited

Hugo, Victor. Les Misérables. 1862. Translated by Isabel F. Hapgood, Canterbury Classics, 2015.

Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today. 3rded., Routledge, 2015.

Keats and the Poems You Haven’t Heard Of

I am interested in examining John Keats’ lesser known poetry, including but not limited to “Two or Three,” in order to gain insight in to why the literary discourse around such a popular poet is silent about them, and then to determine if these poems are worthy of the attention and consideration that Keats’ odes are. These “lesser” poems contain a picture of Keats, as a person and a writer, that could be valuable when examining all of his work. Furthermore, it is my suspicion that Keats’ earlier, less technical, more playful works will be important on their own, at least because they will show how Keats developed into the writer he was at the end of his life. There is also, in my opinion, merit in frivolous content so long as it is not entirely devoid of meaning.

In terms of relevant critical theory, structuralism could be used in the comparisons to his entire canon. There will need to be some biography and history involved. Psychoanalytic criticism is the only one that has directly addressed the author and social context so far, but perhaps there is something that we have not discussed yet that brings in the author more directly.

The pre-existing articles on Keats discuss why he was underappreciated in his time: critics hated him. This is detailed in my secondary source. This could be a possible explanation as to why these poems have not been examined as frequently as the odes, which is the first component of my research in this project.

Secondary Source

Rovee, Christopher. “Trashing Keats.” ELH, vol. 75, no. 4, 2008, pp. 993–1022. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27654645.

Readers’ Response, Psychology, and Agency

Glancing over my peers’ blogposts, I can see that some of us had a similar thought about reader-response theory in general; that it can be particularly useful and poignant when viewing works that touch on sensitive or controversial topics. This, of course, is because readers react in vastly different ways to these kinds of issues, and so, if the reader is giving the text meaning, but many readers are split from authorial intent or each other, this gives the text many possible branches from which an understanding may be born. And I think Stanley Fish touches on another reason why this happens, from a baser human level. He says, “Not that the reader falls and becomes one of Satan’s party. His involvement in the speech does not directly compromise his position… since his response (somewhat unconscious) is to a performance rather than to a point of view…” (10). While Fish is talking specifically about readers in Paradise Lost, this can be taken in a broader sense. Readers do not want to feel like their morality is compromised, challenged, or otherwise tested when reading about difficult topics. But they do. And this is a response to a self-generated interpretation, which, to me, becomes especially thought-provoking in psychological reader-response theory.

In Critical Theory Today, psychological reader-response theory is rooted in the concept that readers react to what they’re reading as they would react to real life situations, and people who adhere to this theory, like Norman Holland, are focused on what this reaction reveals about the reader, not the text (Tyson, 174). Lois Tyson goes on to explain the analytical descriptions of how psychological reader-response theorist would figure out what a reader’s reaction means about them, but I am more interested in the complexities of why people interpret texts to make themselves feel more comfortable in their reality, beyond just that they want to be comfortable. Since the process is unconscious, I think it isn’t much of a stretch to say that it’s more complicated.

On that note, I want to bring up one of the most emotionally charged and complicated texts that I know. I don’t have enough space to go fully into detail about VC Andrews’ My Sweet Audrina right here, but this gothic horror novel deals with everything from gang rape to child abuse, unexpected deaths to adulterous affairs to disabilities both mental and physical. It slams the button of issues people don’t normally want to think about, and so, unsurprisingly, it tends to be a banned book. So then how would a reader response to all the atrocities in this book and then adjust according to psychological reader-response theory? Why would they bother at all? I think a key point component of a reader’s interpretation goes into why they’re bothering to read a text. And a simple answer seems to be thank God that isn’t me. In My Sweet Audrina, the reader is hit with horror after horror without much room to breathe. To continue to engage with it, I think psychologically, it must provide people with the relief that it is only fiction, and it does this by distorting reality in interesting ways. But on the other hand, the readers who put the book down and never pick it back up are equally relevant. If the reader has the power to give meaning to a text as most of the different kinds of reader-response say, and if the reader’s reaction says something about them on the psychological axis, then there is something meaningful in halting the entire process and refusing to engage. This may seem like a half-finished analysis, but one that a reader certainly has the right to choose, especially if reader-response theorists are handing them the reigns.   

Works Cited

Andrews, V.C. My Sweet Audrina. Pocket Books, 1982.

Fish, Stanley. Surprised by Sin: the Reader in Paradise Lost. New York, Macmillan, 1967.

Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today. 3rded., Routledge, 2015.

On Beat, Offbeat

When I reviewed my notes on structuralism and deconstruction, I realized that I noted binary opposition under both theories. In structuralism, binary opposition is defined a “two ideas, directly opposed, each of which we understand by means of its opposition to the other” (Tyson 202). In deconstruction, binary opposition is, well, deconstructed; that is, it calls into question why we consider binary pairs the way we do, and it challenges us to look at them differently (Tyson 241). Support and criticism of binary opposition exist in conversation with each other, and I find it difficult to examine one without the other. In fact, longer texts may have this conversation in real time, supporting a binary in one way and breaking down the same binary in a different way a few pages later.

Before I go into examining this within a text, it seems relevant to note Roland Barthes’ concept of plurality. On the subject, Barthes writes, “…[the Text]  accomplishes  the  very  plural of meaning: an  irreducible (and not merely an acceptable) plural.  The Text is not a co-existence of meanings but a passage, an overcrossing…” (159).  To me, this means that each text not only has an infinite number of meanings, but all these meanings intersect with each other. This includes any meaning devised from any theory, even structuralism. There is no one meaning or interpretation. There is a collection of interconnected meanings, mingling together instead of simply standing adjacent to one another.

With that in mind, I return to where I left off at the end of the first paragraph: what is the nature of binary opposition in longer texts? Does it favor a structuralist reading or a deconstructive reading? Or does it turn out to be equally divided? Obviously, the answers to these questions hinge on the text that is under examination, so for the purposes of this further reading, I will look at Leah On the Offbeat.

Leah On the Offbeat is a coming-of-age novel about a teenager growing up, facing the challenges of high school, and falling in love. In this sense, structuralist would probably categorize it as a comedy, if they were going to file it under one of the seven archetypes (Walker). In terms of binary opposition, Leah, the titular character, is a young woman who falls in love with another young woman named Abby. This overarching plotline is quite deconstructive; it is typical for this narrative to be about a boy who falls in love with a girl. Therefore, the marginal female side of the gender binary, as well the queerness on the sexuality binary, are drawn to the forefront. However, Leah has an overwhelming desire to fit in. She tries to fit the typical structure that American society has created for teenage girls. In one of the more poignant moments like this, Leah tries to find a dress for prom. She eventually finds one that she likes, but she laments about how she wishes that she was one of the girls to whom fashion comes easy.

Leah’s attempts to fit into the pre-existing structure are an acknowledgment of their existence and influence, but in the case of this novel, it becomes clear that it is deconstructing their validity. Therefore, a conversation between structuralism and deconstruction needs to exist; it is difficult to unpack something before we know what we’re unpacking.

Works Cited

Albertalli, Becky. Leah on the Offbeat. Balzer & Bray, 2018.

Barthes, Roland. “From Work to Text.” Image Music Text. Translated by Stephen Heath, FontanaPress, 1977.

Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today. 3rded., Routledge, 2015.

Walker, Tommy. “The 7 Story Archetypes, and How They Can Dramatically Improve Your Marketing.” Social Media Today. www.socialmediatoday.com/content/7-story-archetypes-and-how-they-can-dramatically-improve-your-marketing. Accessed 13 Sept. 2019.

The Cost of Cutting the Context

I find many aspects of New Criticism contradictory and un-objective, but what created the most conflict for me is the New Critic perspective on psychological, sociological, and philosophical parts of works. In Critical Theory Today, Lois Tyson describes this perspective: “…New Critics addressed these elements, but they did so for the purpose of examining how such elements operate to establish the texts’ theme… they aestheticized them” (142). To look at psychological, sociological, and philosophical parts of a work and disregard them or only look at them aesthetically seems disingenuous. True distance from those three areas is impossible for a human, who is made of subjectivity and bias, and more so for the specific group of humans – rich, white, educated, abled, cisgender, heterosexual men – who dominated this theory in its heyday.

T.S Eliot writes in “Tradition and the Individual Talent” that “the emotion of art is impersonal.” This ties into his commentary on the separation of the of the “personality” of the author, as he describes it, and the medium. This implies a vast distance between a poet and their writing. I understand him to mean that emotional distance is required to produce effective poetry, and I agree that some is useful. However, his description of the distance is too extreme. It is as if the poet is merely a robot that has no experiences, feelings, or thoughts that can – intentionally or unintentionally – influence the resulting poem. Or, those influences are irrelevant to the quality of the poem.

The New Critics reduce writing to the formal qualities, and Eliot furthers this notion of intratextual examination when he distances the author. Neither, however, are the problem inherit with this theory. Its claims of ‘single best interpretation’ and ‘objectivity’ create the issue. As I have touched above, there are alternatives to the rigidness of New Criticism, which can hold more weight based on the work.

Consider “On Being Brought from Africa to America” by Phillis Wheatley:

‘Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,

Taught my benighted soul to understand

That there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too:

Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.

Some view our sable race with scornful eye,

“Their colour is a diabolic die.”

Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain,

May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train.

A New Critic would talk about the organic unity in certain aspects in this poem (“Pagan” balancing “Saviour,” the contrast of a physical land and a soul). But they would be missing what I find of the utmost relevance, because context is required. It was written by an enslaved African woman in the United States at the beginning of the 19th century. Phillis Wheatley was published by white people for white people, and her master encouraged her to write. She could neither cut herself off completely, because she had things she needed to say, nor directly convey what she needed to tell them. New Critics may say, “Well, we can aestheticize some of that from within the poem.” And to that, I say, if we do, we miss the integral part of this poem. This poem does not exist simply to be art. It is a message. In an elegant and poetic form, but the purpose is to convey a specific message in a non-threatening yet impactful way that comes directly from her personal circumstances. It is openly as Phillis Wheatley can say to that her enslavement is wrong: “Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain / May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train.”

This portrait comes from one of Phillis Wheatley’s poetry books.

Works Cited

Eliot, T. S. “Tradition and the Individual Talent.” Poetry Foundation. 13 Oct. 2009. www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/69400/tradition-and-the-individual-talent. Accessed 6 Sept. 2019.

Moorhead, Scipio, Engraver. Phillis Wheatley, Negro servant to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston. Retrieved from the Library of Congress. http://www.loc.gov/item/2002712199/. Accessed 6 Sept. 2019.

Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today. 3rded., Routledge, 2015.

Wheatley, Phillis. “On Being Brought from Africa to America.” Poetry Foundation. www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45465/on-being-brought-from-africa-to-america. Accessed 6 Sept. 2019.