Where do we go from here?

This semester of Critical Theory and the Academy has taught me one of the most important lessons I have learned in my entire study of English thus far. By having a chance to discover and explore a multiplicity of theories, I have now had the chance to recognize that I truly appreciate the one theory that started it all—Liberal Humanism. I would refrain from calling Liberal Humanism a theory, per se, but rather categorize it as the key component to interpreting literature, poetry, and other forms of aesthetic expression. It enables an individual to truly value a text without critical theory infringing on it or demeaning it in any way. Theory tends to do just the opposite of Liberal Humanism by acting as an intrusive influence against the context, and ultimately overpowering the reader’s viewpoint. A Marxist critic will perpetually think of the levels of class society and the unjust power of the hegemonic state in whichever text they come in contact with. Others, like Feminists, will think of the oppression of women and how or if they will conquer the phallocentric society in which they live. Post-structuralists, as always, are determined to dissect the center of the text and look beneath the surface to investigate what the “true” latent meaning is. All of these theorists, no matter what their school or their methodology, are practicing eisegesis—reading into texts. This can help us ask a lot of questions, but, in the end, does not enable us to understand or appreciate the essence of a work. The Association of Literary Scholars and Critics were founded by senior scholars Roger Shattuck, Robert Alter, and Christopher Ricks. My friend Richie who has personally studied with Christopher Ricks has introduced to the mission of ALSC: The Association of Literary Scholars and Critics promotes excellence in literary criticism and scholarship, and works to ensure that literature thrives in both scholarly and creative environments. We encourage the reading and writing of literature, criticism, and scholarship, as well as wide-ranging discussions among those committed to the reading and study of literary works.
I feel like there will be a counter-movement back to Liberal Humanism that insists on the word in literature and invites all students, not just those with a sophisticated critical vocabulary to a dialogue with authors that have contributed to our worldviews for centuries. A new New Criticism has the potential to breathe new life into a field that has, in many ways, alienated itself from many readers of literature.

Wrong Track

I must first thank Dr. Krouse for an interesting post on Feminism and Post-Feminism. After having read the post, I remembered a particular incident that happened this summer. My friend Jennie, an undergrad studying at Barnard College in NYC, and I were going home on the train from Boston back to the ‘berbs. We came across a young woman of her twenties who was clearly inebriated. She wore a mask of make-up, white patent-leather four-inch heels, form-fitting clothing, and to top it all off, big, hair-sprayed hair resembling a Texas beauty pageant queen. We were stunned. Suddenly, she sits on the side of the tracks and, nervously, Jennie and I go to her and tell her not to sit there. Explaining to us in utter incoherence, she says that she missed her train. We were going on the last mid-night train so there were no more trains until the following morning. With pity, Jennie and I tell the conductor of her situation and hope that he will take it from there. No. The conductor leaves it up to us and tells us to “figure it out.” At this point, we are upset—especially with the incompetence of the male conductor—and decide to bring her on the train with us. We soon learn that this is a big mistake. “So, are you going to vote in the year’s election,” Jennie asks girl. With a laugh, the girl responds, “Oh no. I will not be doing such a thing… I’d have my husband handle that one, that’s for sure. Hahaha!” Jennie grimaces. I cringe. Somehow we get into a discussion about shoes. “I think all women should wear heels. It’s very important for a woman to look like a woman.” Jennie and I both stare at our worn moccasins, cut-off shorts and over-sized t-shirts, “Is this a figment of our imaginations or is the really happening,” says Jennie. I respond, “This is real; haha, I guess we’re not women.” Jennie sardonically agrees with my statement. Luckily, the girl gets in touch with her boyfriend and she gets off at the next stop. Phew!

This little train adventure certainly has a big message to convey. It can be compared to the notion of “masculinist discourse” that Krouse discusses. She poses the question, “how are women gendered in our culture?” Well, for one thing, women are gendered and conditioned to believe that, in order to be feminine, a woman must wear clothing just like the girl we met on the train. Take for instance the high heeled shoe. It looks nice; however, it is not so easy to walk in. This shoe is designed by a man for the purpose of aesthetic value as opposed to practicality or comfort. Personally, I would much rather feel the ground on which I walk than hobble above it. Looking at literary texts, women are not part of the infamous Western canon. Virginia Woolf suggests that a female writer must have a room and an income of her own to efficiently create a work of literature. I think my anecdote of the train, though not a literary work by any means, can still pose powerful questions about the way we gender ourselves in contemporary American society. Does the girl on the train constructing herself through the oppressive sightline of the male gaze? Will the girl I met on the midnight train return home to a room of her own or a lifetime of domination masculine?