CoreyStruss

“Approach the poem through the study of the life and times of its author”

My thoughts exactly. Chapter 1 discussed when to delve into the author's background, and how to as well. Keesey also touches on how to do this, which helps a whole lot. He stresses on finding the individuality of the poet, and the individuality of the age. As we inspect the background and investigate the author's intentions, we must compare the characters to the age that they were written, and deduce why they were the way they were. For instance, we know that The Tempest was written in the early 1600's, when nobility was a major part of life. If Prospero existed in today's day and age, we wouldn't really understand his motives. But since we know that this story occurred in the 1600's, we can completely understand why Prospero wants to have his enemies suffer and forgive him for what they have done.

Only by understanding the age that it was written, can we truly see some of the subtleties within literature.

Posted by at 8:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

"Gonzalo's guilt valorizes his conduct and speech" (Yachinin 43).

Gonzalo is a old and honest lord. But he constantly plagued with guilt. Why? I'm not too sure. It might be because he helped Prospero and Miranda escape to the island after Prospero was usurped, and now Prospero is getting revenge on all those who wronged him. I was not able to understand why he felt so much guilt through his speech - it seemed like all he did was remark on the beauty of the island.

In Act 5, Scene 1, Ariel remarks that all Gonzalo does is cry. I truly have no clue as to why he constantly cries. Is all of this his fault? The ambiguity within the play leave this question up for grabs constantly.

Posted by at 7:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

“‘What did the poet intend it for?’ - ...This is surely a good question to ask, and anybody who objects at this point that the search for a author’s intention is necessarily a fallacy should be sent about his business” (Watson 31).

Ahh, once again, we have come full circle to the issue of author intent. I feel that Shakespeare intended The Tempest to be a story of justice, not necessarily revenge. Prospero was overthrown by Alonso, his own brother. After being forced to retreat to the island for 12 years, he used his magic to lure them to the island via shipwreck. Throughout the story, there are many forms of revenge that are taking place simultaneously. Prospero has Miranda and Ferdinand wedded without the consent or knowledge of Alonso.
Caliban, Trinculo, and Stefano are all plotting justice to be served to Alonso, even though there is a hint of revenge within their plan. Although they never actually go through with killing Alonso, the intention was there. That's all the reader needs to know in order to realize that justice was the issue.
The Tempest can be read in many different ways, based on what the reader thinks the author's intentions might be. Because I believe that The Tempest was written with the intention of being a story of justice, doesn't mean that I am right. Yet, in order to critique, we must make our own educated judgments towards literature, and then go from there.

Posted by at 7:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

"...in late Shakespeare generally, the effect of the poetry is to promote uncertainty and to insist on ambiguity..."

I really agree with McDonald here. As I read The Tempest, I found it to be a lot more open ended than previous Shakespeare works that I am familiar with. One particular moment where I didn't really know what to think was Prospero's last few lines within the epilogue. He seeks forgiveness from the audience by asking them to applaud him, but I am not sure what he is asking pardon for, exactly. He mentions that he the audience would be able to do this by forgiving him of his crimes, but I don't know which crimes he has committed. Sure, he has kidnapped Ariel, but he also is saving him, in a sense. I know that if I would have seen The Tempest back in the 16th century, I don't think I would know why to applaud him at the end of the play. We could applaud him and the crew for their performance, but to relieve him of his guilt? I don't see why we would.

Posted by at 7:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

"If not, I’ll die your maid. To be your fellow
You may deny me, but I’ll be your servant
Whether you will or no" (Act 3, Scene 1, Lines 77-86)

These last few lines were at the end of Miranda's speech, where she expresses her undying love for Ferdinand. If you take a look at the first 3/4 of her speech, you can see that Miranda has undergone a change from a dependent naive little girl, to a stronger and more mature woman. But then she says that no matter what happens, she will always be Ferdinand's. This sort of undercuts the power of the first part of the speech. Just when she think she has stepped out of her shell and become her own women, we see her desperately clinging to Ferdinand, as if he is the only man she will ever love, regardless if he is the only man she ever sees or not. She places a lot of trust in Ferdinand with this speech, almost too much trust. Personally, I know that saying these words could come back to haunt you. Miranda almost seems too dependent of the people that she has met on the island, and will never be able to survive without them. It would be interesting to see how she fares when they return back to Italy. . .

Posted by at 7:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

"The critic is right to think that the text should speak to us."

In any piece of literary work, we, as critics try to shift and mold the words on the page so that they pertain to us...whether that be our past experiences, or current situations. It's inevitable. No matter how good a work is, it can always be better if we can relate to it on the same level.

But, as critics, we must try to avoid doing this without having proper background information of the time period, the author, etc. It's like the old saying "judging a book by its cover". If we read something in EL312 without any background information on it, then we are passing judgment on it, even if it is just us trying to give the text a deeper meaning by having it relate to our lives. Hirsch puts it best on page 18 where he says that "a text cannot be made to speak to us until what it says has been understood". To understand a text fully, we must also take into account the author, his/her background, and what was effecting him/her at the time of penmanship.

Posted by at 1:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

"It is the strangest yellow, that wall-paper! It makes me think of all the yellow things I ever saw — not beautiful ones like buttercups, but old foul, bad yellow things. But there is something else about that paper — the smell!"

Okay, so we know that the narrator has a mental disorder. I would too, being in the same situation as her - windows barred, a gate across the top of the stairs, her husband the physician having full control over her about what she can and cannot do. I think anyone would face some sort of mental instability when forced to live life like this.

Thanks to Erica's blogpost, I was able to delve a bit deeper into the mind of Ms. Gilman, and read an article by Gilman herself, entitled Why I Wrote The Yellow Wallpaper. She mentions that it was written intended to save people from going crazy. Knowing that this piece is an early work of feminist writing, we can deduce that Gilman was trying to protect housewives at the time, who had nothing better to do than "analyze the wallpaper that surrounded them". This could be taken as a figure of speech, or could be taken literally. Either way, women at the time faced the risk of being plagued by mental instability, and Gilman tried her best to alert and inform her targeted audience.

Posted by at 1:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Like Kaylee said in her blog, we are in a constant struggle to find the true meaning of literature. This is definitely a suitable goal for us in Literary Criticism - To find the meaning of literature. Eagleton mentions that literature is not "a matter of personal experience, personal response, or imaginative uniqueness." I think that the point that he is trying to make is that literature can be any kind of writing on a topic. It doesn't have to be made up, and it doesn't have to be a recollection of one's personal experiences.

And going by Eagleton's take on literature, then any kind of writing could fall into it's broad spectrum - whether it be a diary or journal, a drama, a suspense novel, a script to a performance or movie, etc. If it has to do with a topic, and it is recorded onto a paper, then it can be considered literature. This is where the critic comes in: he/she decides what is good literature, and what is bad literature. I hope to be able to do this by the time I complete EL312.

Posted by at 1:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)