Tag: new historicism

Elevator Speech 2 – Cinderella and Gender Roles

On By lausou17In LaurenLeave a comment

My project has changed since the last post, so here is a new elevator speech. For my project, I want to use New Historical and Cultural theory to look at how multiple renditions of the Cinderella fairy tale reflect the gender roles of that time and how they have changed.  The Cinderella tale is very popular, appearing in many different cultures and having many popular retellings, to the point where it has become a standard story type.  Because this story is so popular, and because it is something that is told to our children literally from birth so many times that they have it memorized for the rest of their lives, I think there is an interesting connection between how Cinderella is portrayed and what we want her portrayal to teach the children who are absorbing this story.  My topic is the cultural impact of the Cinderella tale, my question is how does the portrayal of Cinderella reflect the gender roles of the culture that produced that particular tale, and my hypothesis is that they show the ideal girl to fit those roles and that they show the qualities that are valued in women at that particular time.  One of the sources I plan on using is Cinderella: A Folklore Casebook by Alan Dundes which is a collection of both different versions of the Cinderella tale from different cultures and essays analyzing them and how they relate to one another.  This will be a useful source for me because it will give me both tales to look at and comparisons between them, which will show me how the retelling have changed.  The specific versions I want to look at are the Charles Perrault, the Brothers Grimm, the Disney 1950’s animated film, and the Ella Enchanted film.

Dundes, Alan. Cinderella: a Folklore Casebook. Garland, 1982.

Accuracy vs. Bias

On By smundorfIn SpenceLeave a comment

When looking into the principles of New Historicism the idea of a writer’s biases seems to hold a significant amount of weight. There seems to be a clear distinction between the ideas of accuracy versus bias and the value they have. In a more traditional form of writing or reading the idea would be to find an accurate story or depiction of a time period or culture. This is what gave texts values because they would work as a representation of their subject matter. Despite this there still exists inaccuracy within texts discussing historical events or set in the past. New historicism takes advantage of these inaccuracy by asking what they bring to the text. If a writer chooses a particular time period and brings to the table a number of things that seem unlikely to happen or down right would not have happened, then what is that saying about the time it was written? New Historicists take into account that these things would not have happened but instead look at the text through an almost double lens that asks about the time period being represented as well as that of the time the text was written. What is the purpose of these changes and what does the presence of bias tell about the time of publishing?

A text that represents these inaccuracies would be The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas by John Boyne. Boyne writes a story taking place during the holocaust following a young boy through their journey under the Nazi reign. Boyne manages to create an atmosphere of bleak outlooks on life but also keeps to story telling conventions for the most part. When writing a fictional story there are typical rules that most writers stay within to create a cohesive story that this novel in particular attempts to hold to. These unsaid rules help to make a more enjoyable experience for the reader. In reality life is much less rule based on cares less for what makes a good story. In reality victims of the holocaust had their stories cut short and that’s just part of cruel reality. On the other hand, there’s the similar text, Night, by Elie Wiesel that also tells the story of a young boy during their journey through the holocaust. This text differs though because the author is not just the author, they’re the main character. Wiesel wrote about his own experience in the holocaust therefore taking away the idea of a creative work of literature and becoming a historical account of someone’s life.

The questions that arise here are why did Boyne write in so many particular situations to his novel? What creative liberties did he take for the sake of storytelling? Why did he write his novel in the first place when so many novels exist based on the holocaust already? These questions can be placed against Wiesel’s novel as well to get a more accurate view of the second world war. This could also be used to better understand the 2000s as a decade and how the memories of the holocaust had aged over roughly sixty years.

Boyne, John, 1971-. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas : a Fable. New York :David Fickling Books, 2006.

Wiesel, Elie,Wiesel, Marion.Night. New York : Hill And Wang, 2006. Print.

Shots in the Dark: New Historicism in History

On By sabowdenwritesIn SarahLeave a comment

When I took American history in eighth grade, my teacher split us into groups to teach us about the Boston Massacre.  She gave us each an eyewitness account, which she told us to read and discuss as a group. (Oh, the censorship of 18th century writing: “g-d damn it!”)  We went on our merry way for a few minutes, then she called on each group and asked the members to describe what happened on March 5, 1770. Each group had a different explanation for who started it, who reacted, and what exactly happened.  We students wondered how this could be, but not my teacher. She explained, “I gave each group a different account: some of you got the Patriots’ perspective, and some of you got the British soldiers’ perspective.” It was especially thought-provoking for me, who learned the colonists were the poor unfortunate victims and the Redcoats were the perpetrators, to read a report from one of the wicked Redcoats himself.  He described angry colonists yelling at him and cursing the soldiers out, not exactly the innocent and helpless victims of a massacre. Clever, Miss Fleming.  

I never forgot that lesson, and I wonder how history class would be different if everything was taught that way.  It would make a more cumbersome history class, but perhaps more enlightening and engaging.  Can we ever factor in and represent every possible perspective? I think not, though my perspective as a writer in the ongoing diversity push comes into play here.  With intersectionality, there are so many groups and perspectives that I don’t think it’s possible or at least practical to include every one. Further, not every historical event involves every group, and not every group is accessible to us now.  For instance, the Chinese weren’t very involved in the Boston Massacre, and we know of the existence of Amazon tribes who are still uncontacted. We won’t be hearing their perspective on World War II or the Watergate scandal.  

Miss Fleming’s method follows the New Historical ideas of interpretation and subjectivity.  If a class were to go by this system, some may ask, “Well, if it’s all subjective, how can students ever learn facts about history?”  Really, it’s not all subjective: dates, most locations, and names, for instance, are generally undisputable. But as Miss Fleming showed us, subjectivity isn’t just limited to who was right or wrong.  Psychology class shows us the unreliability and variability of eyewitness accounts, which is how most history is learned at the root. It’s very deconstructive, looking at it that way: a fractal of interpretations and meanings.  And like deconstruction, a more varied perspective can help remake our identity as Americans and people.  

Toeing the Interpretive Line

On By vaxjonesIn VaxLeave a comment

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.

In My Opinion: The Memoir as History

On By Becca KanaskieIn BeccaLeave a comment

In this week’s reading on new historicism, I found the keywords of discourse, interpretation, and self-positioning the most interesting in relation to the literary theory. In Lois Tyson’s Critical Theory Today, she explains that “new historicism views historical accounts as narratives, as stories, that are inevitably biased according to the point of view, conscious or unconscious, of those who write them” (271). If this statement is to be taken at full value, how can we, as humans, researchers, etc., legitimize retellings or accounts of anything that has happened in history? In thinking about this question further, the definition of a discourse as something created “by particular cultural conditions at a particular time and place” (270) that then illuminates some aspect of the human condition or experience partially legitimizes the understanding that new historicism regards history as a narrative instead of concrete facts, but I still wonder about the full impact a biased account can have on an audience. 

As interpretation plays a huge part in new historicism, my additional question of how this literary theory can be applied to a memoir seems fairly straight-forward. After all, the memoir as a genre is inherently biased as the author and audience seem to share an understanding that the text is written from a specific perspective and only tells about certain events from the author’s perspective. In this way, looking at memoirs from a new historicism lens seems entirely appropriate: the narrative is universally understood to be a snapshot of a particular moment in time. I would like to further pursue in my application how Ehrlich’s personal narrative can be useful—even if it is not objective—and how the memoir’s subjectivity in general can open realms of interpretation that allow readers to understand the context in which the text was written. In my application of new historicism to Gretel Ehrlich’s memoir The Solace of Open Spaces, I will explore how the genre of the memoir can be seen as a form of self-positioning and how looking at Ehrlich’s interpretation of events may not be totally accurate, but it still a useful lens through which readers can view certain moments in history. 

Perhaps the most useful way to apply new historicism to Ehrlich’s memoir is to look at the chapter titled “To Live in Two Worlds: Crow Fair and a Sun Dance.” In this chapter, Ehrlich discusses several rituals, including a Native American religious ceremony called the Sun Dance. She starts her description with seemingly objective details: “Every man wore beaded moccasins, leaving legs and torsos bare. Their faces, chests, arms, and the palms of their hands were painted yellow” (108). In the next scene where the men start dancing, Ehrlich’s depiction is clearly more subjective, as she comments that “in the air so dry and with their juices squeezed out, [the men] looked weightless, their bodies thin and brittle as shells. It wasn’t the pain of the sacrifice they were making that counted but the emptiness to which they were surrendering themselves. It was an old ritual: separation, initiation, return” (112). With the genre of memoir as a whole, the text is acknowledged as being inherently biased, and yet accepted by the audience as such. In terms of self-positioning, I think it is unique that readers are aware that they are reading about experiences through the author’s lens, but that does not discredit the text itself. Much like new historicism argues, it is the reader’s interpretation of Ehrlich’s narrative that really matters. Because the reader knows the limitations out-right, there is room to balance Ehrlich’s objectivity when she talks about the body paint on the men with her interpretation of what the Sun Dance means in terms of Native American culture. We can still value Ehrlich’s outsider view of the Sun Dance because it gives us a glimpse into the historical culture of Wyoming in the 1980s, but reader’s must be aware that this is just one interpretation of the event from one person’s perspective. Therefore, one limitation of applying new historicism to the memoir is that the reader would have to do extra research to find out if Ehrlich’s narrative of Native American culture is accurate to this time period, because perhaps this biased content is not the best example of the culture of that time period. I think that this literary theory works when thinking about the memoir as a genre and the biases that are presented to the reader, but it lacks the concrete-ness needed to really construct an argument around the text. Perhaps attaching this theory to formalism, structuralism, and reader-response theory would help to construct an argument that looks at the subjective-ness of a text as being beneficial to convey authorial experiences while also imparting wisdom onto the reader. 

Ehrlich, Gretel. The Solace of Open Spaces. New York, Penguin, 1985.

Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today. 3rd ed., Routledge, 2015. 

New Historicism and Cultural Criticism: Reconstructing Contexts

On By Professor MeehanIn Professor MeehanLeave a comment

In the first two weeks of our studies, New Criticism and variations of structuralism and deconstruction largely removed the author and the reader from our critical view. We had just the text. Over the last couple weeks we have slowly returned to the reader (reader response) and the author (psychoanalytic criticism). Now we turn, or perhaps return, to context. How do cultural and historical contexts of the texts we study, and of the people doing the studying, matter in literary interpretation and criticism?

We get a rich and complex exploration of that question in the critical example we are reading for Tuesday’s class, “The Classroom in the Canon: T. S. Eliot’s Modern English Literature Extension Course for Working People and The Sacred Wood.”

Their scholarship and book in progress, The Teaching Archive, has its own archive of materials [linked]. This example gives us a way to do some further thinking about a point made by Tyson, identified as “self-positioning”: “the inevitability of personal bias makes it imperative that new historicists be as ware of and as forthright as possible about their own psychological and ideological positions relative to the material they analyze so that their readers can have some idea of the human ‘lens’ through which they are viewing the historical issues at hand” (275).

As Kenneth Burke puts it, “Every way of seeing is a way of not seeing.” I see this problem of “self-positioning” as both a useful insight with regard to new historicism and cultural studies, and one of its constraints or limits. Critics need to qualify their vision regarding the lenses they are using. That’s a good thing, and can strengthen the argumentation and persuasion, to the extend that we critics thereby engage our readers in the work we do. We can be more deliberate in the lenses we use. The potential limit is that in the end we need and want our readers to see what we see. We can’t qualify things beyond recognition. We can’t proclaim our own interpretation invalid because it is not free of bias. Or, we can’t do that and expect our readers to be persuaded of our reading. Which, in the end, is the goal. That’s my bias, I recognize: all critical reading and writing are thoroughly rhetorical. The aim is not certainty or objectivity. It is persuasive plausibility.

I think Buurma and Heffernan achieve this, a persuasively plausible argument for rewriting and revaluing the “received idea of the Eliotic canon” by way of reconstructing and recovering the pedagogical and collaborative contexts of his essays collected in The Sacred Wood. As part of their argument, they are thinking and positioning their own scholarship in relation to the archive of teaching.

Why am I persuaded? What am I not entirely seeing? Perspectives from new historicism can help me answer both questions, and that will enable me to strengthen my argument, even as it keeps me from providing final and certain answers.

As I look to the seminar projects (and elevator pitches) you have begun to entertain, I wonder what role history and culture have played thus far in your studies in English, and what you might do differently, or additionally, with a better grasp on these critical concepts from new historicism and cultural criticism. Are you interested in a new historical lens? What will that enable you to see? What will it keep you from seeing?