Literary Discussions (Part 2): Elitism and Nonsense

May 7th, 2008 · 16 Comments

 Last week we had a good discussion on the role environment plays (or does not play) in supporting literary discussion. I believe that there is much more to be said on that subject, and I still hope to get more people (and different thoughts involved), which is to say that posts of this nature are still quite welcome. Yet in the interest of the general march, I have turned my own attention in this final week of class to the second and I believe more difficult question the letter that I received a week ago asked. The following represents my own paraphrase of the question:

How can a literary community-dedicated to serious discussions of literature-avoid, on the one hand a vulgar elitism and, on the other hand, allowing for pure nonsense?

I think a place to begin addressing this question is with a clarification-an elaboration, if you will-on the nature of the poles between which we might be allowed to seek our community. To qualify myself, the following represent exaggerated caricatures meant only to clarify the nature of the problem by exposing the extremes:

Vulgar Elitism

He imagines himself well-read. He knows enough of Shakespeare to quote him at a pulse, but not enough to  restrain himself. He has read Derrida and Foucault, and believes he understands language quite well. He is impressed with himself for said understanding. He believes himself quite intelligent (and he may be), yet he disdains conversation with most-for after all, he has read so much more, and must not waste his time with the plebes.

Pure Nonsense (2 Varieties)

1)    He believes, on a basic level, that discussions on literature amount to little more than a sophisticated joke. Sophisticated-as in sophistry. He believes this either out of a commitment to post-modernism or to indolence, and he cannot understand why he should ever spend his time talking about stories.

2)   He believes, on a basic level, that discussions on literature amount to little more than a forum for self-expression; that is, the rude ejaculation of opinions. That is, narcissism. He is compelled to connect everything in literature to some form of social activism, and to use magnetic poetry to further “diversity” and multifarious multi-cultural experiences. 

Besides these over-drawn exemplars, we can try to understand the poles in a number of other ways. On the one hand there is insularity, on the other hand, plurality. On the one side there is over-seriousness on the other side there is none. On the one hand there is hyper-criticism, and on the hand there is a slobbering-affectionate-malaise. Yet in what way are these poles (besides the details) particularly related to literary discussion? Are these not more general concerns about personality?

 All of this is just to say that I suspect when we say we are concerned about a serious literary forum becoming elitist, it seems to me to be the case that we are, in fact, worried about one of two more general things:

1)    Unpleasant personalities and their preponderance.

2)   The quality of our own intelligence. 

To the first, I can only say that this is a general concern of mine. And to the second, that in moderation this would seem like a good thing-for it would seem to signal that we have something to learn from other who are involved in the conversation. At a certain point we have to take responsibility for how we manage the doubt-whether we let it prevent us from engaging with others who seem to exhibit great pretense

For it simply cannot be the case that to say something intelligent on the Amherst campus is to be an elitist (in the negative sense). Did we not come here hoping to say a good many intelligent things, and to hear a good many intelligent things said in return? 

I believe we do ourselves a great disservice if we allow the intelligence of our peers to be stifled by an oversensitivity to pretense.  

Xairete   

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16 responses so far ↓

  • 1 Rachel Edelman (redelman09) // May 7, 2008 at 2:57 am

    Ryan,

    I’m not sure the question in a literary community is about avoiding those poles you speak of. If literature is to connect with its audience, it must appeal to both extremes. A literary community should concern itself with providing an environment in which interested people can explore texts together. I certainly would not want to place myself in one category as a reader; I feel that I gain more in my reading by adapting my analytical approach depending on how a text strikes me.
    But that’s not the point. The word “elitism” often implies exclusion. If we are to participate in a forum of literary thought, we must be willing to engage in various types of literary dialogues that include diverse points of view. Our community (and our personal scholarship) will only improve if we allow our ideas to evolve, informed by our texts as well as our colleagues.

    Cheers.

  • 2 Ryan Milov (rmilov10) // May 8, 2008 at 1:18 am

    Thanks for the comment Rachel, but I do disagree with the following:

    “If literature is to connect with its audience, it must appeal to both extremes.”

    The extremes I mentioned have nothing particularly to do with literature discussions, so I don’t see why a good literary community must appeal to them. The point I was trying to make was that I think we often encounter these unfortunate “personalities” in literary discussions and conclude (incorrectly) that they belong (italics) to literary discussions. I can’t imagine a situation in which I would want (italics) to have a conversation with either of my over-drawn characters.

    Also, I’m quite interested in this sentence, but I’m a bit confused as to what it means:

    “I feel that I gain more in my reading by adapting my analytical approach depending on how a text strikes me.”

    Can you forgive my density, and explain it another way?

  • 3 Rachel Edelman (redelman09) // May 8, 2008 at 9:23 am

    Sorry for the confusion, Ryan. What I was attempting to say with the first was that we should encourage all sorts of literary dialogue, whether or not we wish to participate. Yes, these “personalities” might be “unfortunate,” but with discussion, don’t you think they might open up to new ideas? They have to be included.

    I could spend days talking about the second statement. What I mean is that the lens through which I view a text depends on the text itself; I want to talk about different books in different ways. I might move more toward one school of criticism for James Baldwin and another for Richard Wilbur. The diverse types of discussion should not be seen as incongruous; they should be seen as crucial to the literary community itself.

    Better?

  • 4 Woody Brown (wbrown11) // May 8, 2008 at 12:06 pm

    Rachel,

    Indeed. The exclusion of “undesirables,” irrespective of their annoyance or obnoxiousness, is diametrically opposed to those standards we should uphold in literary discussion, or any discussion for that matter. I think it would be dismissive and elitist to refuse people on the extremes of the spectrum admission to a supposedly open forum on literature, politics, or what have you.

    The end result of this practice of selective admission or selective respect is eventually an ideologically homogeneous group of people.

    In the interest of respecting Amherst’s supposedly upheld policy of “free exchange of ideas,” I feel we should strive in all situations to admit to our groups and discussions those radicals and extremes who represent the opinion of a minority. Otherwise, you end up with an exclusive community of self-assured people who exist in that dreaded Ivory Tower; a location free of those fanatical and in many ways revolutionary ideas that are the true source of the changes we see in the world.

    And in any case, I know most of the shit I would say in one of these conversations would be labeled elitist or pure nonsense. Ryan, these are the violent colors of human expression. Everyone does this. True hubris and fault lie in refusing to recognize that, in banishing the hubristic and faulty, you are doing it too.

    Woody

    P.S. See, what I just said was arguably pretty harsh. I was attempting, however, to make the form of my response mirror the content: i.e. “‘Everyone is obnoxious,’ he said, obnoxiously.” Would you then remove me from the forum because I don’t conform to rules of politeness or courtesy?

  • 5 ssligar10 (ssligar10) // May 8, 2008 at 3:59 pm

    So I agree with everything everyone’s said about including everyone in literary conversations, let’s not censor, blah blah blah.

    In regards to elitism itself, I wouldn’t define “elitist” as “knowing more than me”; that’s a pretty unfair and extremely insecure statement. I think people veer into elitism when they act as if the other person’s lack of literary knowledge is indicative of being a Huge Dumbass (or, you know, Pure Nonsense–not to be too critical!), making the other person feel like shit. How is that conducive to literary conversation at all? More like literary monologue. Obviously I understand that you’re hyperbolizing here to make a point. I guess that I, like Rachel E., am just taking exception to the idea that people should be left out of literary discussions because they don’t like literature enough. But we should be allowed to admit, on a smaller scale, that we think that Steinbeck is boring or Jonson is aggravating or that secretly we want to spend our entire day watching Rock of Love re-runs…

  • 6 Ryan Milov (rmilov10) // May 8, 2008 at 10:58 pm

    I admit that I did not expect such fondness for my over-drawn characters. Still, I enjoy surprises of all sorts, and I appreciate the insights that everyone has offered.

    Just to bring us back a bit, I’d like to review what seems to have transpired in the past few days. The original question was “how do you keep a literary community serious, but not elitist?” The solution I offered was simply that we should all cultivate a “culture” (if you will) which discourages snobbery on the one hand, but on the other hand is also critical of thoughtlessness and lazy ideas.

    If I am hearing everyone correctly the nature of the problem with my solution is something like the following:

    By trying to establish a preferred code of conduct, and thereby discouraging certain forms of behavior (read: snobbery, thoughtlessness), I am (or anyone is), in that very act exhibiting elitism.

    While I appreciate the logical dexterity of this argument, I have the following problems with it:

    1) It regresses upon itself infinitely: that is, if offering a solution to the problem of how to create a healthy literary community is in itself an elitist gesture, then so is criticizing that offering, and criticizing that criticism, and so is this. The end result of this would seem to be that we can, in fact, say nothing at all about anything at all without being ourselves elitist.

    I am very interested in this point. There does seem to be a general perception on the Campus that to say something intelligent, or to pass any form of judgment, is presumptuous–a form of pretense–against the ideal of “inclusiveness”–and therefore to be avoided. I am deeply fearful of this form of argumentation. For it seems to remove our ability to criticize each other, and in doing so diminishes the possibility that we will learn anything.

    2) It is careless in its definition of elitism. Unless I am alone in the opinion that elitism refers to a particular type of exaggerated and snobbish intellectualism, and not to the general act of making judgments, this argument, I believe, unfairly conflates these two distinct behaviors. Clearly there are grounds upon which we should not “exclude” one another–pick any of the liberal banners you like: gender, race, sexuality, socio-economic background–But I think something like obnoxiousness might actually be a pretty fair reason for not wanting to have a conversation with someone. Should I feel “exclusive” for saying this? If so, why?

    (The rephrasing of my obnoxious caricature into “undesirables” is also a bit unfair, because that word has connotations (because of its historical use) of unfair treatment of the poor or the downtrodden. I don’t believe that this was a part of my original post.)

    What concerns me most about the discussion thus far is that what people seem most interested in isn’t how to create a serious literary community, but rather, simply how to create yet another vague plurality–vaguely associated with literature, but really fundamentally about “inclusion” more than about good discussion. If I can be allowed to anticipate the response that claims “inclusion” is the way to get the best discussion, I would like to say–is it?

    I don’t particularly think that careless exclusion is the answer either, but I do find it much easier to have a enriching conversation when everyone involved is committed to, for example, something as simple as not being snobs, not being thoughtless, and being willing to accept real criticism that might make you change your mind–might, dare I say it, not let you get away with the anthem of our generation “well, this is my opinion and I deserve to be included like everyone else”. Are we no better than this?

    Sarah,
    I also think Steinbeck is boring. These sorts of judgments are supposed to be part of the dialogue! Yet you admit it as if it were a strange thing to say…. Of course, if someone disagreed with us they might challenge us to prove our case–but I think we could handle that one pretty easily, no?

  • 7 ctullis09 (ctullis09) // May 8, 2008 at 11:44 pm

    Ryan,

    I’d like to step back to the quotation in your original post:
    “How can a literary community-dedicated to serious discussions of literature-avoid, on the one hand a vulgar elitism and, on the other hand, allowing for pure nonsense?”

    As formulated, this statement implies that if one is avoiding “vulgar elitism” then one must be uttering “pure nonsense”. This is exactly the view that is outlined in your gloss of the Vulgar Elitist.

    Indulge me in a dramatization of the above scenario: Someone is speaking about a book in a way that we don’t appreciate. Because we’ve read some Foucault, we know that this person is missing the point of the text that we are discussing, but we are afraid that if we call them out on it, that would make us Vulgar Elitists. And besides, we wouldn’t be able to make them understand the vast insights that critical theory offers us, so why even try? So we hold our tongues, smile, and look for ways to escape the room. What do we do, Dear Abby?

    Clearly our character above has missed the point. If we label our conversation partner “nonsensical” because s/he does not account for Foucault, then we are Vulgar Elitists of the highest order. If, however, our chief concern is keeping the two unintelligent viewpoints (Pure Nonsense, Vulgar Elitist) out of our literary discussions and allowing for all intelligent ones, then we need not be elitists in order to excluded nonsensical opinions. But not non-Foucault does not equal nonsense.

    If, like Foucault, we see texts in terms of their politics, we can feel free to articulate those views, but if we see them in terms of aesthetic values or anything else, we should be able to express those just as well. Rarely are these modes of discourse mutually exclusive–having both can only enrich an understanding of a text–the problem tends to be that someone who wants to talk about one is often not one who wants to listen to the other. That is the crucial nexus, I think, where the diversity of opinion gets squashed. Another way of saying this is that it is not a problem for diversity if we exclude poorly-thought-out viewpoints, but it is a problem if we exclude honest opinions because they do not operate on our preferred plane of discourse.

    The important point here is that our conversation partner can express perfectly reasonable aesthetic, historical, or even personal views to which Foucault does not speak, and our deconstructionism-crazed Vulgar Elitist does not recognize that. In other words, there is more than one way to read a book.

    More broadly, it is when we privilege one of the possible modes of literary inquiry (deconstructionism, aestheticism, etc.) over others that we make the absurd, polemical statements that we’ve all encountered at one point or another. An example would be, “Novels are not aesthetic.” Of course they are! (or at least can be). Or on the flip side: “A work of art should be analyzed only as a work of art, without regard to context.”

    As to just how we can know when we’re dismissing a view because it is poorly reasoned, and when we are acting as Vulgar Elitists and denying legitimate voices expression, I’m not quite sure. I’ll leave the finger-pointing to the comments.

    [P.S. I am expecting someone raise the objection that, in the act of excluding any view at all, we are inherently quashing diversity. I have attempted to avoid this pitfall by characterizing the excludable views as "poorly thought out" (which implies a lack of action) instead of "unintelligent" (which implies a lack of endowment), but I hope that comments will let us flesh this out further.]

  • 8 Woody Brown (wbrown11) // May 9, 2008 at 12:20 am

    HI CHRIS!

    Sorry.

    Ryan, it seems you have misconstrued what a few of us have said as condemnatory of “saying something intelligent,” as you put it. This is of course incorrect!

    It is late and I can no longer pretend that I am smart, so I will just say this: the issue is not that in saying something intelligent, one must necessarily sound like a dick. Surely this is untrue. Smart people often sound like assholes, and assholes sometimes happen to be smart. What I am trying to tell you, however, is that we must include the smart person, the asshole, the idiot, and the clown in this weird, abstract, and totally bizarre idea of a “literary discussion” that you obsess over. You can not simply banish their opinions from your Republic because you do not like their tone.

    In response, you may argue that the idiot or the asshole is detrimental to the rest of us “normal folk” expressing our opinions. But the truly devoted moderator of this literary discussion (why, again does it have to be literary? I rarely talk about books with anyone. It sounds to me like this post is more about who you like and who you don’t like) would perhaps try and analyze why it is someone would take the time to attend a discussion only to act disruptively or sound like an asshole. Don’t you think it may have deeper roots than those for which, “This guy is a dick, exclude him!” grants the person credit? Maybe it is your tone that is so infuriating to the person in question; perhaps his extreme behavior is simply a reaction to what he sees as extreme behavior on your part.

    There is no way you can justify kicking people out of a circle of participants in a discussion because he is bored or mean or what have you. Get real; people talk smack all the time. Instead of relishing the bruise it leaves you with on your banana peel of a respect for literary discourse, think about what it is that could be causing the person to act the way he or she does.

    I dunno.

    Woody

  • 9 Chris Tullis (ctullis09) // May 9, 2008 at 12:41 am

    Hi Woody!

    Just to pre-empt some confusion here, I hope that what we’re all talking about when we say “literary discussion” is not just conversations about books. Certainly movies would have qualify (Woody), as would visual art and music. If you want to push things a bit, there are all kinds of things that can be construed as “texts” and discussed within the “literary” paradigm. (I don’t think I “discuss books” with my friends a whole lot either.)

  • 10 Woody Brown (wbrown11) // May 9, 2008 at 12:46 am

    Alright, then I have respect for that. I figured that, because Ryan writes on “Books” and a few posts ago he was talking about campaigning for an English lounge, he was referring only to discussions of books.

    In any case, I think most of the stuff I said still pertains.

  • 11 Aaron Nathan (anathan10) // May 9, 2008 at 5:59 pm

    Chris: “the problem tends to be that someone who wants to talk about one is often not one who wants to listen to the other.” Here, here. And isn’t the other problem that we very often fail to realize that we’re actually talking about two different things? There are infinite ways to read a book (or “read” a movie, or a painting, or a sonata, etc.) and many of them are incommunicable or irreconcilable–any attempt to craft a Unified Field Theory of Literature is doomed to fail, I think. So the biggest problem I have with (what’s his name? Idiot? Jackass? Vulgar F. Elitist?) is not that s/he is mean to the unversed kid who hasn’t read Foucault, but that s/he might see the “vast insights that critical theory offers us” as uniquely revelatory, and suppose that s/he has a window to the work of literature in question that is qualitatively better, or more correct, than the view held by the poor guy who read the book without his theory manual in his back pocket.

    (Also, how did you do the bold thing? That’s cool.)

    Speaking of talking about two different things….Woody…I don’t think you’re being entirely fair to Ryan when you say he is writing about people he does and doesn’t like. But then again, Ryan and I have argued about this a little in person (in person? you can do that? yes, but the programming language is a bitch) and I know we don’t entirely agree. If you believe that there is some such thing as a “good” book or “good” poem in any absolute sense, eventually you have to say that some people are simply wrong in their interpretations. That is, I think, his take on “pure nonsense.” I’m an unapologetic small-d democrat when it comes to this sort of thing–anyone willing to enter a conversation about literature, and willing to hear another opinion, doesn’t fit my definition of elitist. What does is someone who thinks they have an exclusive avenue to the Truth About Literature, or some special access to a work of art that any lay observer wouldn’t be able to enjoy themselves. Of course, I think we’re all a little guilty of that at times, so it’s hard to condemn outright. And as for books or poems (!) etc. that seem to invite that kind of access requirement–well, I just resent the hell out of that.

  • 12 Circus (circus) // May 9, 2008 at 8:59 pm

    Aaron,

    I’m not sure if you disagree with me or not, but I agree with you. I meant the “vast insights that critical theory offer us” to be taken somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Critical theory is interesting stuff, but only if you’re trying to talk about power politics or something else that it can be applied to. If your input to the conversation is, “this book made me cry,” or “this language is beautiful,” then Foucault can go to Hell.

    As for forming a “Unified Field Theory of Literature,” I hope that my original comment got across that I am in favor of anything but. There are indeed, as you point out, “infinite ways to read a book.” One of the biggest issues I took with Ryan’s original post was that he conflated elitism with theory-snobbery. To me, this implies that critical theory is somehow at the top of the ivory tower of literary discussion, whereas–let’s be honest–it’s just the current intellectual trend. Books will outlast Foucault.

    As for the bold thing, you just use html: type <strong> and </strong> around the word in question. Or replace strong with <i> and </i> for italics (Ryan, I’m talking to you :-) ).

  • 13 Chris Tullis (ctullis09) // May 9, 2008 at 9:02 pm

    Err, sorry about getting the accounts mixed up. That last post in no way reflects the views of Circus, CAP, or the Amherst College Board of Trustees.

  • 14 Ryan Milov (rmilov10) // May 10, 2008 at 12:08 pm

    word.also, since writing the original post I have come to agree entirely with your judgment Chris–that in my caricatures I conflated elitism with theory-ism. alas, now we all know where my tendencies lie. Thank you for the gentle reprimand; I have found it most salutatory.

    One other thing, in regards to my other tendency to want to call a piece of literature “good,” I want to clarify that this version of (forgive the use of this word, it is not entirely accurate, but I believe it will convey the point) objectivism is in no inherent way more intolerant (or less willing to enter into a conversation) than Aaron’s admirable democratic commitments. I believe a scenario might clear the air. Thus:

    Say that I am in a conversation with someone about the following Emily Dickinson poem:

    As if I asked a common alms
    And in my wondering hand,
    A stranger pressed a kingdom,
    And I bewildered stand.

    As if I asked the orient,
    Had it for me a morn’,
    And it should lift its purple dikes
    And shatter me with dawn.

    (I may have gotten the punctuation wrong. i.e. that there are no dashes seems highly improbable)

    a democrat might say (and Aaron, please correct me if I misrepresent the democrats.), “well, I think that is a fine poem” by which–since he is not referring to any “absolute fine”–he probably means something closer to “I quite enjoy this poem,” or (as Aaron and I have spoken of concerning the popularity of literature) “Many people will enjoy this poem.”

    by contrast, it’s true that I am inclined to just say that I believe this poem to be good. whether that makes me a platonist (and therefore quite out of style), I admit that I do not know. However, that I am inclined toward some absolute notions of goodness (read: on Tuesdays and Fridays), in no way has to make me less willing to enter into a conversation about a piece of literature. That I may believe in absolutes does not mean that I believe I have (to borrow your phrase, Aaron) an “exclusive avenue to [that] Truth About Literature”. For, in the same way that a democrat can (conceivably) disagree with the majority), I can (and I imagine, often do) misperceive the goodness of a poem. In this sense, absolutism versus democracy really has more to do with the quality of truth we believe we are talking about than it does with the way we engage each other in conversation (read: our willingness).

  • 15 Aaron Nathan (anathan10) // May 10, 2008 at 12:21 pm

    Oh, Chris, just the bold code would have been fine…why, oh why, did you let him get his hands on that?

    I agree with you both. Except that I think Ryan’s “objectivism” (as he defines it, not as he uses it in real life) is a little bit less conducive to whatever idealized conversational style we’re after. If you say, “This poem is a reflection of the form of the poetic,” and I say, “Horseshit, I just think it’s funny that Auden is writing about pooping,” I don’t think we can get beyond agreeing that yes, that is a little funny–we can’t begin to discuss why without entering another conversation. And that’s another post. Hey, italics are fun!

    I should also say that in the wisdom of my years I know that whatever beliefs about this stuff I hold now–my “democratic” values–are bound to change with time. So I’m acutely aware that democrat though I am today, today is only Thursday for me.

  • 16 Aaron Nathan (anathan10) // May 11, 2008 at 10:16 pm

    Speaking of theory, anyone heard of this new craze, “tag cloud theory?” I’ve heard it’s really hot in certain academic circles, including a really small one on level 2 in Frost.

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