I have so many thoughts! One, I loved the density of this post (no need to apologize!), and would actually love more literary theory 101. (But maybe I'm the only one?)
Two, I wonder if Jack, in reminiscing about his reading as a youth, is being altogether too hard on himself. Perhaps he is imposing knowledge and understanding from later in life on his younger self. Also, is he contradicting his own words a bit? After all, didn't he write (in Experiment in Criticism) that the "first demand any work of art makes upon us" is to surrender, or *receive* the art? How does this combine with doing a more scholarly deep-dive into original historical biases, word meanings, etc.?
Last, I can't help but think about these ideas in context of the book I'm currently reading: Kristin Lavransdatter. I'm about 600 pages in, and something just feels a bit off. So I'm trying to figure out exactly why. Do I need to do a study of 14th century life in Norway? What is being lost in translation, so to speak, since I'm reading the text in English, not in the original Norwegian? Are there aspects to medieval Catholicism that I should understand in order to appreciate the story? Do I need to try a different translation? Or do I just need to finish the story to "get it"?
I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I think it's true that Jack might be too hard on his young self here. I believe he would say, though, that part of receiving the work is to try, as best one can, to understand what it's actually saying or trying to do. Surrender for him means receiving the work on its own terms—be it tragic or comedic, 'literary' or pure entertainment—which may involve some considerable cultural translation in the case of old books. He talks in a few places about the difficulty of recognising jokes in some medieval literature, for instance.
That said, he wrote these books while at Cambridge in a department presided over by FR Leavis, who had VERY strong opinions about the importance and 'seriousness' of literary study, and I do wonder if this insistence on a historical approach is a way of combatting Leavis' 'vigilant' critical school. So he might well be stating his case too strongly.
I think your comments on Kristin Lavransdatter are such a great example of an attempt to receive a work. It's so easy to dismiss books when they aren't working, but ideally we should all be asking the questions you are. Do we have different expectations for the plot or characters because of our context? Are we alienated by the language? I'd definitely be curious to know if you decide to finish, and if you feel the same at the end!
I have so many thoughts! One, I loved the density of this post (no need to apologize!), and would actually love more literary theory 101. (But maybe I'm the only one?)
Two, I wonder if Jack, in reminiscing about his reading as a youth, is being altogether too hard on himself. Perhaps he is imposing knowledge and understanding from later in life on his younger self. Also, is he contradicting his own words a bit? After all, didn't he write (in Experiment in Criticism) that the "first demand any work of art makes upon us" is to surrender, or *receive* the art? How does this combine with doing a more scholarly deep-dive into original historical biases, word meanings, etc.?
Last, I can't help but think about these ideas in context of the book I'm currently reading: Kristin Lavransdatter. I'm about 600 pages in, and something just feels a bit off. So I'm trying to figure out exactly why. Do I need to do a study of 14th century life in Norway? What is being lost in translation, so to speak, since I'm reading the text in English, not in the original Norwegian? Are there aspects to medieval Catholicism that I should understand in order to appreciate the story? Do I need to try a different translation? Or do I just need to finish the story to "get it"?
I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I think it's true that Jack might be too hard on his young self here. I believe he would say, though, that part of receiving the work is to try, as best one can, to understand what it's actually saying or trying to do. Surrender for him means receiving the work on its own terms—be it tragic or comedic, 'literary' or pure entertainment—which may involve some considerable cultural translation in the case of old books. He talks in a few places about the difficulty of recognising jokes in some medieval literature, for instance.
That said, he wrote these books while at Cambridge in a department presided over by FR Leavis, who had VERY strong opinions about the importance and 'seriousness' of literary study, and I do wonder if this insistence on a historical approach is a way of combatting Leavis' 'vigilant' critical school. So he might well be stating his case too strongly.
I think your comments on Kristin Lavransdatter are such a great example of an attempt to receive a work. It's so easy to dismiss books when they aren't working, but ideally we should all be asking the questions you are. Do we have different expectations for the plot or characters because of our context? Are we alienated by the language? I'd definitely be curious to know if you decide to finish, and if you feel the same at the end!