Tuesday, April 29, 2008

The Languages of the Bible


"Against unknown literal signs the sovereign remedy is a knowledge of languages. And Latin-speaking men, whom we have here undertaken to instruct, need two others for a knowledge of the Divine Scriptures, Hebrew and Greek, so that they may turn back to earlier exemplars if the infinite variety of Latin translations gives rise to any doubts. ...For there are some words in some languages which cannot be translated into other languages. And this is especially true of interjections which signify the motion of the spirit rather than any part of a rational concept. ...[a knowledge of this] is necessary on account of the variety of translations."
~Augustine, "On Christian Doctrine"

I really am fascinated by this new section of Christian theory / hermeneutics that we are studying in class, one that I think is so often neglected when studying the Bible in general. I thought of this quote when we were discussing the question of Biblical interpretation. Someone actually brought up the fact that when we interpret the Bible today for ourselves, we are actually "interpreting an interpretation," since the Bible wasn't originally written in English, but translated from the Greek, Hebrew, and Latin (not necessarily in that order - see, I don't even know how our English translation came about!). Therefore, choices were made when interpreting words and phrases from language to language, since Augustine himself talks about the discrepancies sometimes found between languages. And from this short talk on the topic, I was left with a lot of questions and thoughts on Biblical interpretation.

First off, let's just think about one of the questions we discussed in class as a spin-off from this main theme: Do all readers have authority to interpret a text, or do scholars have greater authority based on their greater expertise? From looking at the above context, it seems that only scholars would have the means to go back to the Greek, Hebrew, and Latin to see what the original texts actually said. Then they are able to aid us in our present-day interpretive quandaries. But the common person is not fluent in any of these languages, and therefore cannot even begin to see their original meanings. And with meanings also comes connotations to words. Each society attaches connotations to words and phrases, and different meanings come about for words as the years go on (just look at where a word like "gay" has come from over the centuries, and what it means now). So words and phrases that mean something to us now meant something totally different to the Biblical writers, hence where many of our interpretational difficulties come from. Now, commentaries are available for the common person who does not go to school for Biblical studies or for languages such as the ones mentioned above, but really, let's be honest, when was the last time any of us picked up a commentary or concordance when we read the Bible. I'll be honest: I never have, unless I had to for a class. And I've forgotten most of what I learned there.

I took my last Bible class last semester, and I will never forget something the professor said. Our study was going deep into historical contexts and into many other areas that I had never heard of in the church. The professor said that the average preacher would not know half of these things, for they do not go to school and study all the same things that Biblical professors study... their classes are different for the different degrees (I'm sure I'm grossly misquoting, but the point was that Biblical scholars often "know more" than the average preacher, and if they do know the same amount, there is no way they can cover such intense and obscure topics as we are talking about here in a Sunday sermon - they'd lose half the audience!). That leaves us with scholars who know more about the Bible, or can talk more about the Bible in different ways than the average preacher can on a Sunday morning, and therefore they have authority to help us interpret in ways we couldn't do because of lack of knowledge.

Going back to the beginning, the study of languages opens up a whole new arena for Biblical interpretation, because we are seeing the original language and what those words really were. And if we go into the historical context, we see what those words really meant to the people of that day. My Bible professor last semester often gave us the Greek interpretation of the passage we were reading, focusing on what the words really meant for the people then. It was an awakening for me. But in the end, that's as far as it went. I haven't researched any deeper into it (mostly for lack of time and energy, since life takes over with all its busyness). And that leads me to not be as much as an "authority" as my professor, since I do not know all that he knows. Yes, it is at my disposal with the advent of such a large dissemination of print texts, but I also need the time to go and find those books... and then read them.

In the end, I completely agree with Augustine, and even though I think we are all able to interpret texts in some fashion (isn't all of life an interpretation of sorts?), we cannot do it on the level that authorities can...


Thursday, April 24, 2008

The Bible as Literature


"The writing, no matter how good it is, expresses something that (to non-Christians) is not true, so it seems like to them it would be impossible to appreciate the Bible in the way they would any other literary work. They would be left, as Pesta expresses, with merely studying the influence the Bible has had on history. The Bible is not literature; it is a course in culture." ~Danielle Sahm, April 19 Blog

As I was reading through blogs tonight, I was struck by Danielle's blog. I had actually talked a little bit about the Bible as literature, but I didn't really have the words to express everything fully. I thought Danielle did a great job and brought up a bunch of good points, and I'd just like to make a few of my own comments. In the above quote from her blog, she talks about the study of the Bible as literature in the secular arena only being a course in culture. She brings up the question of if we can study the Bible just for its genres and influence on history while ignoring its content, and also its Author.

Really, I agreed with her, but I will play devil's advocate for a few minutes. The Bible IS literature. It is a written word that has been passed down for generations. Can we deny the fact that it is literature? I don't think so. But to Christians, the Bible is much more than just this. It is the inspired word of God. We study it for its wisdom, for the word of God speaking directly to us. We read God's love letters to us through the Bible. It is our sacred book. Sacred literature. But what does that mean when we teach it as just literature? I have heard countless arguments saying that studying the Bible as literature takes away the sacredness of the book and relegates it to the status of any other work of literature. And in a way, I think it does. But it doesn't have to. Knowing that the Bible has literary elements in it (poetry, prose, parable, etc.) adds to the richness of the Bible. It is not just one book filled with the same type of writing, but a multitude of different writings that speak to every single aspect of the human condition. For Christians, I think studying this aspect of the Bible is not wrong or diminutive, but helpful.

Yet bringing that into secular settings may pose the problem. As Danielle said, it could become a study in cultural influences, which in and of itself may not be wrong. But ignoring the content, especially when it is seen as a holy book for a vast number of people, seems very wrong. And then I thought, do we study other religions' texts in the same way? Do we look at the Koran as only literature? Do we remember when doing this that other people view this as their sacred text? What really is going on here, and how far should we go in discussion the Bible as literature? And can we really discuss it without acknowledging the sacredness of this book to people and also the wisdom in its pages from God?

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Reading and Writing: A Look at the Present



"...My colleagues and I have remarked on the increasing numbers of students that we have in our writing emphases, many of whom declare forthrightly that they really love writing but don't like to read so much. This, combined with the steady growth of creative writing programs across the country has led me to muse openly with my provost that we seem to be living and teaching at a moment when everyone wants to express themselves, but no one really cares to read much of anything being expressed."
~Pete Powers, "Reading Ethnic Literature Now"

I know this paragraph is not necessarily the focus of this essay (since it deals more with reading ethnic literature now... hence, of course, its name), but this section struck me quite readily as I was reading. Being a writing emphasis student, I wanted to comment on this... and I will start with my childhood. I was a very avid reader when I was younger. I could finish 300+ page books in less than 2 days. I remember curling up on my living room couch and reading all day long. My mom had to force me to take breaks from reading, because she said my eyes needed a break from 5-6 straight hours of staring at the page. I got lost in those worlds, though. I loved fiction. I didn't read much non-fiction, but that was ok. I was reading, and loving it. And then I finally entered middle school, high school, and eventually college. And my reading-for-pleasure days were over. Inundated with thick college textbooks and reading deadlines, I read just to survive.

Let me switch gears slightly... I have been in so many writing classes where the above quoted scenario has played itself out. I personally know many people who say they are English majors, but qualify it by saying they have a writing emphasis, and therefore do not read much, and then further qualify this by saying, "I'm not your normal English major." As if not reading makes you a "bad" English major, and writers want to be "bad" English majors, because that sets them apart from all the people who just sit and read all day, and then talk about what they read at night. No, we are writers, for goodness sakes, and we actually do something with our lives.

Perhaps I grossly exaggerate. Yes, I really probably do. But I have heard talk like this so many times before... and I would just like to conjecture something... I really do love reading. I could read for hours, and never get tired of soaking up the world through books. But do I do it on a regular basis, especially in addition to normal schoolwork? Not at all. I reached a record high last summer when I read about 8 books throughout ten weeks (you readers are saying, "That's it???"), and I had goals of keeping up extracurricular reading throughout this year. And you guessed... that definitely didn't happen. And I would never say I don't love reading, but I would say that the college lifestyle takes a toll on you... that such intensive study can sometimes make you lose the love you once had for reading (or anything else for that matter). With deadlines and reading of things others choose for us (however good those things may eventually be for us), it's sometimes hard to think of reading as anything else but another thing on the endless to-do list.

But what about those writing students? Because we are so focused on writing our own ideas about the world... with our profound need to express ourselves and assert our own individuality (which is done by most everyone at the college level to some capacity)... we forget that others have things to say too... things that will foster our own thoughts and creativity. But we are so burnt out with keeping up with deadlines and trying to write things that will get us good grades in this grade-conscious society of ours that we feel we have no time to read. And if we have no time, it slips to the sidelines. And soon we think we don't need to read, because we're doing so good without it anyway (our grades are telling us so) and perhaps we say, well, we don't have much of a desire to read anyway. We are writing, and that's what we want to do for the rest of our life.

Along with exaggerating, perhaps I also grossly over-generalize such things. But I think the intensity of college (and even high school) life forces reading (except for those things we must read as dictated by our professors) to the sidelines... and perhaps that is why we don't want to read. We're burnt out, and just trying to keep up with the writing and necessary reading we have to do in class... just something to ponder as we're reaching the end of yet another semester...


Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Oral Literature (Yet Another Take)



"The study of the oral tradition at the University should therefore lead to a multi-disciplinary outlook. ...Spontaneity and liberty of communication inherent in oral transmission - openness to sounds, sights, rhythms, tones, in life and in the environment - are examples of traditional elements from which the student can draw. More specifically, his familiarity with oral literature could suggest new structures and techniques; and could foster attitudes of mind characterized by the willingness to experiment with new forms, so transcending 'fixed literary patterns' and what that implies - the preconceived ranking of art forms."
~Ngugi, Liyong, and Owuor-Anyumba, "On the Abolishment of the English Department"

I looked at oral literature way back with lectures from Peter Wasamba, and I argued (or at least perhaps tried to argue) for the credibility of oral literature classes as he saw them. I didn't think much about that since then, until we read Ngugi's proposal for class today. And I thought his arguments were quite sound and rational. I know he was talking to primarily the Universities of Africa, but I would like to take some "artist liberties" and extend this a little farther into the Western realm.

The part of Ngugi's article which I quoted above talks about the study of oral literature leading to a multi-disciplinary outlook. Ngugi proceeded to mention how many different disciplines this study would affect: literature, music, linguistics, Sociology, Anthropology, History, Psychology, Religion, Philosophy. And then I thought about any liberal arts colleges (Messiah College to be specific, since that is what I know). We are supposed to take general education classes, the goal being that we receive a well-rounded education. I really do think Messiah does a wonderful job of that... but then I read this article, and thought about how much more we could potentially do. In theory, Ngugi called for one discipline that arched over the entirety of disciplines. Is there any thread that connects all of our disciplines here at Messiah? Perhaps it is the thread of Christianity (although that is not necessarily in every class). But other than that, there seem to be very distinct, separate disciplines with no overarching themes, such as the theme of oral literature studies that Ngugi proposed. And really, are there any threads -besides that of Christianity - that bind each discipline together. Are we asked to look at Sociology in its relation to linguistics on a consistent basis? Or psychology as connected to history? Perhaps it is just me, but I see each separate discipline as just that - separate and distinct from each other. Do we ever truly make an effort to see how each discipline is related to the others, and how each gives us a fuller picture of humanity, our day to day lives, and ultimately, our God?

And I know I put more of the quote up there, so let me just touch on that a little. The rest of the quote, in my roughly summarized terms, talks about how oral literature can open us up to new ways of seeing the world and eventually help us break free from "fixed literary patterns." And I really see his point. New experiences open new viewpoints. New literatures open new stories and discourses... and ultimately conversation. And I want to end with something I hope I can tie into this. Today in chapel, Native Americans spend the 45-minutes telling us about their rich heritage, their rituals, and if I may be so bold, their oral myths too. At the end of the talk, Richard Twiss asked us to stop thinking of Native Americans as a mission field, and to instead see the richness of their past and present. And I think that is also what Ngugi was asking for... that we stop thinking of them as the "other," and start seeing the beauty of their culture. I say all this to bring it back to this: in opening ourselves up to oral literature, we open ourselves up to seeing the culture for what it is, and not what we want it to be (and in doing so, see its beauty), and we therefore open ourselves to seeing how we can break free from using only European literary patterns, which in and of themselves are not bad, but are just not complete without the whole picture of the rest of humanity's cultures... just as each discipline from above is really not complete without the others...

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Canonized


"An established canon functions as a model by which to chart the continuities and discontinuities, as well as the influences upon and the interconnections between works, genres, and authors. That model we tend to forget, however, is of our own making. It will take a very different shape, and explain its inclusions and exclusions in very different ways, if the reigning critical ideology believes that new literary forms result from some kind of ongoing internal dialectic within preexisting styles and traditions or it, by contrast, the ideology declares that literary change is dependent upon societal development and thereby determined by upheavals in the social and economic organization of the culture at large."
~Annette Kolodny, "Dancing through the Minefield"

I loved reading Kolodny so much that I had to put another post up here. When I first read this passage, even thought I know she's talking about the literary canon, I first thought of the Bible and its canonization. The canonization that is "inspired." Now, I truly believe it is inspired, and that the men who put it together (ah... the
men who put it together) were prayerful and attentive in their decision of what to include in the Bible and what not to include. They were informed on what best served the needs of God's community, and what best showed the character of God. But then there is the Protestant and the Catholic canon. The Catholics include more books (why do Protestants reject so outrightly these books?), and they teach through them. So even within the Church, the canon is disputed. But the entirety of it is still called inspired.

I am fascinated by this notion of canonization, whether it be in the sacred or secular realms. But I really would like to focus on the sacred for a little. Kolodny says that literary change is dependent upon societal development. While this is true of the secular canon, the Biblical canon has not undergone any significant changes (except, perhaps, for using inclusive language) for hundreds of years. This could of course be that nothing is being written now that is in any way close to the Biblical writings of centuries ago. But then again, there are a lot of Christian books out there, too, books that hold their own wisdom... but they are based solely on the wisdom of the Bible (and inspiration that comes from this). So these books are following from the tradition of the Bible, and also responding to changes in society while being informed by the wisdom of the Bible. And this would be why this one book has lasted for so many centuries... and also because of the pluralities of its interpretations (like Kolodny spoke of in regards to women's theories and literature in this same essay).

In my last few posts about Feminism, I talked about some of the Christian approaches I've heard to this discipline... but perhaps Feminist theories are not so far off from our Biblical perspectives, as some would like to think...


Uprooting the Culture


"For what we are asking be scrutinized are nothing less than shared cultural assumptions so deeply rooted and so long ingrained that, for the most part, our critical colleagues have ceased to recognize them as such. In other words, what is really being bewailed in the claims that we distort texts or threaten the disappearance of the great Western literary tradition itself is not so much the disappearance of the either text or tradition but, instead, the eclipse of that particular form of the text, and that particular shape of the canon, which previously reified male readers' sense of power and significance in the world."
~Annette Kolodny, "Dancing through the Minefield"

I am fascinated by the Feminist theorists we have been reading in class, not only because I don't recall reading much by Feminist theorists before (even though I have read works by women writers), but also because I am amazed at what they are actually saying. Brought up in a conservative home and church, the term "Feminism" brought with it some of the most negative connotations and outpourings of anger at how the Feminists are "bringing our country down." And because I did not read anything (perhaps may not have been "allowed" to because that would be siding with the enemy) by Feminist writers, I did think they were "evil."

And I am beginning to see that I was so wrong.

I won't even begin to go in to all the good that Feminism has done for women in our country and in our world, and I will admit that nothing is perfect and that evils and injustices can be done by any group or person in society (including some Feminist agendas in those categories). But I will go straight to the quote I have above from Kolodny dealing with cultural assumptions so deeply rooted in society, cultural assumptions about male superiority, and subsequently, female subordination, and also the assumptions that female writers are less valid than male writers. And I want to focus just for a little on these deep-seated, shared cultural assumptions that infuse all of what we do. Again, I never really thought about these assumptions until reading the Feminist theorists, but once I read them, I realized how true this is. As I spoke of in my last post, change in anything is often resisted, especially if it causes shifts of power in people who never want to lose that power and sway in the public domain (or private, for that matter). And in all these Feminist writings, I see them heralding change, a change that involves unraveling the deep-seated assumptions that males are better then females (sorry to give the most trite summarization possible). Obviously, I think this view is changing now, but I really believe these views are so deeply rooted... women's studies are just beginning to flourish, and also be seen as valid. And we still have a long way to go. But I also think we have to be careful not to go too far in the opposite direction... to do to women what we have done to men in the literary canon for so long. And as Kolodny says, in opening up the canon to females, we are not saying there is nothing valuable in the long-rooted male canon of our history, but instead opening that canon up to new writers, new interpretations, and in effect, a new inclusive canon that speaks to both genders.

Even though I think these deep-seated assumptions and views about male and female writers will persist for a long while (they are, after all, deeply rooted in our minds, so much so that it took me reading a Feminist perspective to discover them for the first time in my 21 years of existence), but I think we are on the road to at least unearthing and challenging those assumptions. After all, we just have to read the sources and see them for what they truly are...


Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Undoing the Centuries?


"To write. An act which will not only 'realize' the decensored relation of woman to her sexuality, to her womanly being, giving her access to her native strength; it will give her back her goods, her pleasures , her organs, her immense bodily territories which have been kept under seal; it will tear her away from the superegoized structure in which she has always occupied the place reserved for the guilty (guilty of everything, guilty at every turn: for having desires, for not having any; for being frigid, for being "too hot"; for not being both at once...)."
~Hélène Cixous, "The Laugh of the Medusa"

I know that's one of the longer quotes I've started a blog with, but as I was reading Cixous's "Laugh of the Medusa," I had an "aha" moment that both startled and amazed me. Published in the 1970s, Cixous spoke to the repressed woman, the woman standing at a crossroads in history, with a seemingly never-ending pile of male discourse behind her, and a seemingly impossible hurdle to cross in front of her with the liberation of the female intellectual. She illuminated the feelings of guilt women felt for being "too much" and yet "not enough." And she said that writing from yourself, from yourself as a woman, would allow you to reclaim your sexuality, and your beauty, and everything you are meant to be.

And then I realized that I've heard those words before, perhaps in a slightly different format, but the same message nonetheless. And I read them in Christian non-fiction... Christian books for women designed to "rescue" a woman's heart. The one I am thinking about most right now is "Captivating," by John and Stasi Eldredge.

Let me give you an example: In talking about the messages society (and perhaps discourse?) sends to women, they say,"Isn't that just the message you've lived with all your life as a woman? 'You're too much, and not enough. You're just not worth the effort'" (86).

And still another place they talk about a woman's shame:

"We come to believe that some part of us, maybe every part of us, is marred. Shame enters in and makes its crippling home deep within our hearts. ...shame keeps us pinned down and gasping, believing that we deserve to suffocate. ...Shame makes us feel very uncomfortable with our beauty. ...We either think we don't have any beauty or if we do, that it's dangerous and bad" (73-74).

Sound a little similar? I was amazed when I read the quote from Cixous, and I immediately realized that much of Christian nonfiction right now aims to reclaim the hearts of women... to reclaim the beauty of women (perhaps, too, their sexuality), to reclaim their self-images, to show them they are whole and do not need to feel guilt for being who they are.

And then I thought, how do women get to this point to begin with? Why is there such a plethora of books out there dealing with this topic of a woman's self-image (written mostly, or almost entirely, by women)? Why is this the dominant feeling women have? Are they born with this feeling of inferiority and worthlessness? I am no psychoanalyst, but I will venture to say that this is a learned behavior / thought process. But why does it happen? Cixous, and other feminists, argued that it was greatly because of the previous history of male discourse, and only male discourse, that causes such repression. And I really see her point. The male discourse has been repressive, especially in light of the fact that it did not give woman her own voice, but it also has shown women again only in relation to men (I'm thinking about the binary oppositions discussion we had in class today), which ultimately does not allow women the totality of their being.

And then I also thought about conservative Christians and the "attacks" I have heard about feminism and it's "evils" in society, how it is effacing all we know of morality (yes, I have heard that). And I really wonder... what is inherently wrong with giving woman back her voice and her beauty / sexuality? God created us man and woman, equal in his eyes as humans. I can't see how a loving God would say women must remain silent and guilty of who they are. That just doesn't make sense to me.

And I also think... these attacks again feminism... is it because change is taking place, and no one likes change, especially if it removes from them their power? I still have many questions and not as many answers... but it's definitely something to think about...

Friday, April 4, 2008

The Women of History

"All these relationships between women ... are too simple. So much has been left out, unattempted. And I tried to remember any case in the course of my reading where two women are represented as friends. ...But almost without exception they are shown [only] in their relation to men. ... And how small a part of a woman's life is that."
~Virginia Woolf, "A Room of One's Own"

I had never thought of literature in such terms. Sure, I've been introduced to the Feminist theorists, but I can't recall ever internalizing the fact that most all literature, up until Jane Austen's time, only portrays women in relation to men, if they portray women at all.

Go back to Petrarch, where the lover pines for his beloved. She does not acquiesce to his proposals, and he is left without the lover he so desires. But we know nothing about the woman, except that she is the woman who does not return the man's love. End of story. And then there's Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet," with again the focus on Juliet in relation to Romeo, and also her father... but still in relation to men all the same. In "MacBeth" we may see a little more of the actual character of Lady MacBeth, but she is still seen in relation to King Duncan and her own husband. And she even asks to be "unsexed" so she can be more like a man.

So what does this say about women, and about how this literary canon informs us as women today? Obviously, this literature shows women only in one type of role, that in their relations to men. And I thought back to my childhood, how Disney movies and fairytales all placed the woman in relation to the man. How I grew up believing that I had to have a man to be whole (I have now realized my error in this train of thought), and I attribute that greatly to books and movies. Those books and movies that showed true love and women searching for their prince charming, or even women being "bold" enough to refuse the man. And that's how I thought life had to be... thinking of women (and myself) in relation to men. I know you are getting biographical information that you didn't ask for... but I was an avid reader of romance novels (and I give the term "romance" novel to those like the Anne of Green Gables series and the Little House on the Prairie books. And I read the love story parts over and over. I could have cared less about the rest). And these romance novels, although they often painted a bigger portrait of women than those of long ago, still gave women in relation to men... entire books on the search for a woman's completeness through a man, in fact. And that is what I internalized, for better or for worse.

And then I think about the Christian books out there, the ones that say you are whole because of who you are, not in relation to other men. That you don't need a man to be pretty or whole or anything else. But do we have to say this because women automatically think - from the day they are born - that they need a man to be beautiful or whole or worth something, or is this view learned from society and from the literature that surrounds us each day? I would venture to say is it the latter. Yes, I believe women and men "complete" each other... but it doesn't necessarily have to be in a romantic sense all the time. And we certainly don't have to spend our entire lives as women searching for the man that will make us feel whole... for a man can never do that, and nor can a woman do that for a man. And yes, we were created man and female, to live side by side, together working through this life and towards God. But each one of us separately has different gifts and talents that work for a wholeness in the world... but we have to know both sides, not just one in relation to the other.

But I digress... Yes, women have been portrayed only in relation to men, and until recently, they still were. In the beginning of the semester, I read "Mama Day" and "Beloved" for a class.... and both books gave me thorough pictures of women, not only in relation to men, but in relation to each other and themselves. And just as men need men in literature, so women need women - and themselves - in literature. Through reading these books, I am now discovering what it is to be a woman... to be that one, whole, beautiful part of the twofold human race. And yes, women do have to be seen in their relation to men... but that is not all they are. We were created man and female, each one with our own gifts and talents. It's time to let both women and males shine through literature...

Thursday, April 3, 2008

A Class Distinction


"Popular taste applies the schemes of the ethos, which pertain in the ordinary circumstances of life, to legitimate works of art, and so performs a systematic reduction of the things of art to the things of life. ...Intellectuals could be said to believe in the representation - literature, theatre, painting - more than in the things represented, whereas the people chiefly expect representations and the conventions which govern them to allow them to believe 'naively' in the thing represented."
~Pierre Bourdieu, "Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste"

The upper and the lower class. The intellectual and the banal. The good and the bad. Marxist theorists such as Bourdieu focused on class distinctions based on monetary and intellectual status (which really goes hand in hand), among other things, in their writing. In "Distinctions," Bourdieu draws a sharp distinction between the upper and low classes and how they relate to literature. And I find myself questioning his assertions.

Let's start at the beginning: the intellectual elite - those who are educated - see art for what it is: art. The common people, however, look to art and see what it represents. They focus on the ethics of the art, and make it a legitimate art form based on these ethical assessments. They do not judge art on its form, but rather on its content. And in this light, so it seems, Bourdieu places the working class on the low rung of the ladder, with the highest echelon of society being the intellectuals, those who like art for art's sake, and not for its ethical value. My first question is about this distinction: just because someone is not educated, does that mean they can't appreciate art for the sake of art?

Take Shakespeare's plays... they were not for the upper echelon. They were for the common people, and the common people loved them. No, perhaps they did not love the plays solely for their representation, but they loved them because they spoke. They entertained. But maybe those common folk really had something in their love for his plays: every school that I've ever heard of now studies Shakespeare. What started as a "common" art form has now risen into the higher bracket of society's intellectuals as we study and analyze Shakespeare's work. So that leads us to the fluidity of class... can works of art be equally enjoyed by both the upper and lower classes, and can it further travel through classes at different times to serve different purposes (or even the same purpose) in each class? I think in this case - and many other cases - it can be. The question further is, however, are the classes appreciating it in the same way? Bourdieu seems to say not: the lower class looks to their emotions and ethos to find value in a work of art, while the upper class looks to the art itself. But does that necessarily mean that one class is wrong and the other is right? I find that hard to believe. There is a place for form and a place for content, and each should be a viable thing to analyze. Yet, that leads us to the age-old adage: do we have a responsibility to appreciate that which we do not like? For if we now as middle class people - who are rising in stature - read plays that play with form, but the content does not meld with our beliefs, do we have a responsibility to still appreciate the form?

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Giving Voice to the Voiceless: A Look at Oral Literature


We did the activity in class the other day: think of the storyteller (if there is one) in your family. Think of the context of that story. Recraft the story in your mind. And now think of the purpose that story served in your life as the listener, and further, what purpose the telling of it served in the life of the storyteller. And now think of how the hearing of it was different than reading a novel. It was quite different, wasn't it? The story was told in a familiar setting - that of family or friends - and you knew something about the people talking, and they too knew your background. You have a shared history. And of course, the story was as interesting - or perhaps even more interesting - than the last novel you read... mostly because the story is personal. It is about people you care about (not that novels are not personal and you don't end up caring about the characters).

But would you classify these oral stories as literature - as something that should be taught in classrooms? As something that should have weight in the grand canon of literature?

Peter Wasamba thinks so. As I mentioned in my last post, Wasamba (who is professor of oral literature at
the University of Nairobi) believes that oral literature is not only a valid literary form, but also can be an aide in promoting reconciliation, as well as ensure land preservation in Africa, and perhaps ultimately, the world. And I also spoke of his thoughts on this matter in the last post, which for me, were very convincing.

But let's just take up the topic of oral literature in general. When I was listening to Wasamba's lectures, I started thinking about the art of theatre. I wrote about this before in a very early post, but do we ever think of theatre as literature? The play had to come from words, from a script, and that script would most definitely be found in the category of literature. And that story was most likely penned by an individual (not a collective source). Oral literature, on the other hand, can come from either one source or a collected source, and can take on mythic or legendary qualities as it is passed down. But eventually, if it is told enough, it is written down.

So my question is, does oral literature only become literature once it is written down? Or is there an inherent literary quality in these stories, as they have the potential to be put down on paper for the whole world to see? For if there is a potential to these unwritten stories, then it follows that these stories and their storytellers are potential literary authors. And that further means that oral literature is a valid form of study in classrooms. But in this case, you really can only "study" oral literature once it has been written down. Does that mean that the written story can no longer be titled "oral literature" and must just be termed "literature"? Or do these stories retain any part of their orality?

I read a book in a Personal Narratives class here, and it was a collection of stories from an African American family. All the stories had been passed on for generations, and some had taken on mythic proportions. But the book was a legitimate form for us to study, and the purpose of the assignment was to have us discover the genre of family folklore. It was a meaningful assignment to me, and it made me realize how much I want to know, remember, and eventually write down the history of my family. After all, writing is a form of preservation, and in writing down oral literatures, we are preserving voices that would otherwise have gone unheard and unnoticed.

And that is what Peter Wasamba kept stressing: in his field work, and ultimately his teaching, he is giving voice to the voiceless. He listens to the stories of those who are never heard (thereby forming relationships with these people, something nonexistent in solo literary readings), and he records them. His efforts are going to change conditions for the poor, for the land, and in general, for the betterment of humankind and our life on earth. But stories serve still more purposes: they preserve the lives of people, stories of hardship and wisdom, terror and joy... they give voice to the voiceless.

But of course, in order to study these oral texts, we have to read them. Or we have to write them down. But writing them down firstly involves listening. And our society is losing the art of listening...

But that is a topic for another day...