Something very forgettable about literary criticism and movies
There's really nothing new out here to report. Nothing new to write about. I've been working on an article that has been in the works for about three years now. I have a conditional acceptance with a journal, so I've been working my way through revisions. Finally got around to them again after a few years dedicated to other projects.
It's actually a lit. crit. piece, which is a little outside the scope of my field, thus the hiatus. The short (and boring) version is that it's a look at the depiction of virtuality and reality in Richard Powers' novel Plowing the Dark. But it intersects with my scholarship in some interesting ways. And, if nothing else, it shows my "scholarly potential" or what-have-you. And I really like the novel; I'd recommend it to most people--especially the people who regularly read this blog.
I was thinking the other night, though, as I slogged through the novel for the fourth or fifth time, that if I ever had to teach that type of interpretation, I would compare it to the movie National Treasure. You see, when you write this type of criticism, you're searching for something... "clues," I guess. And those clues give you further insight into what you should be searching for.
Now, here's the thing, at least as it applies to National Treasure. When you look at the treasure map, sometimes you don't see very much. But if you put on a special pair of glasses (a critical lens) you can see something different. Those new clues lead you somewhere new, where you again hit a dead end or a wall or something. So you put on your special pair of glasses again and realize that if you change the lenses, you can see something else entirely. And so you go racing off in a new direction, based on your new clues. And eventually (hopefully) you arrive at your destination, a meaning of the text.
(I'm sure I need to cite Dr. Harris's Intro to Grad Studies Course a little bit here--some stuff about Stanley Fish, Donna Haraway, Thomas Kuhn, um, Richter I think too. Who else, those of you who took it... It really seems like I'm drawing on the whole idea of situated knowledges and paradigms that we discussed in that class.)
Now if only my treasure map wasn't 450 pages long, reading with different lenses might be a little easier. : )
It's actually a lit. crit. piece, which is a little outside the scope of my field, thus the hiatus. The short (and boring) version is that it's a look at the depiction of virtuality and reality in Richard Powers' novel Plowing the Dark. But it intersects with my scholarship in some interesting ways. And, if nothing else, it shows my "scholarly potential" or what-have-you. And I really like the novel; I'd recommend it to most people--especially the people who regularly read this blog.
I was thinking the other night, though, as I slogged through the novel for the fourth or fifth time, that if I ever had to teach that type of interpretation, I would compare it to the movie National Treasure. You see, when you write this type of criticism, you're searching for something... "clues," I guess. And those clues give you further insight into what you should be searching for.
Now, here's the thing, at least as it applies to National Treasure. When you look at the treasure map, sometimes you don't see very much. But if you put on a special pair of glasses (a critical lens) you can see something different. Those new clues lead you somewhere new, where you again hit a dead end or a wall or something. So you put on your special pair of glasses again and realize that if you change the lenses, you can see something else entirely. And so you go racing off in a new direction, based on your new clues. And eventually (hopefully) you arrive at your destination, a meaning of the text.
(I'm sure I need to cite Dr. Harris's Intro to Grad Studies Course a little bit here--some stuff about Stanley Fish, Donna Haraway, Thomas Kuhn, um, Richter I think too. Who else, those of you who took it... It really seems like I'm drawing on the whole idea of situated knowledges and paradigms that we discussed in that class.)
Now if only my treasure map wasn't 450 pages long, reading with different lenses might be a little easier. : )
posted by Brad Smith at 5:02 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home