Friday, March 7, 2008

Finding the Potential


"The formalist critic knows as well as anyone that literary works are merely potential until they are read - that is, until they are re-created in the minds of actual readers, who vary enormously in their capabilities, their interests, their prejudices, their ideas. But the formalist critic is concerned primarily with the work itself. Speculation on the mental processes of the author takes the critic away from the work into biography and psychology. ...Such studies describe the process of composition, not the structure of the thing composed, and they may be performed quite as validly for the poor work as for the good one."
~Cleanth Brooks, "The Formalist Critic"

First off, there's a lot packed into that paragraph, so I think I will methodically (at least, in theory, do this methodically) attempt to make sense of it in shorter segments... beginning at the beginning, with literary works being merely potential until they are read. Part of me read this and said, "Well, of course that's true," while the other part of me wanted to ask, "What in the world do you mean by that?" Let's examine both sides. Someone writes an essay... or, let's even go with this blog. I am writing this blog. And it only has mere potential... it is nothing until someone reads it. Ok, I see that... right now, my words are just floating around, meaning nothing except something to me. They could have a potential to be profound and great (however minutely slight the chance), but they won't be profound and great to the world until someone reads my words and pronounces them as such. I understand that. But that is separating good writing from others reading it. I conjecture that there is a lot of good writing out there, many pieces that we have never read, that we will never read, that would change the course of humanity if they were discovered. Yes, they still have potential, but in all probability, they will never be discovered and read. But going back to my blog here, my words have meaning - and potential - to me. Does that count for anything? Obviously, I have a purpose behind writing here, and someone will be reading this, and however arrogant this is, I think some things I think are worth thinking. Yet, that would be putting emphasis on the writer, and looking at biographical and psychological issues related to the writing... which defeats the purpose of a Formalist approach...

So let's talk about the biographical and psychological considerations of the critic. Brooks states in the same paragraph from which the above quote was taken that "such explorations are very much worth making. But they should not be confused with an account of the work." That's good to hear from a Formalist... they are not discrediting the use of such information and studies, but they are saying it is separate from the actual text in front of them. I understand that too. But I am actually more interested in the ending of the quote above, that "these studies may be performed quite as validly
for the poor work as for the good one." Yes, that is very, very true. Studying biographical and psychological information really doesn't always tell us much about the actual poem. I believe Brooks is dead on when he says that it aides in understanding the creative process that went into composition, even though I do not completely agree that it is irrelevant to the structure of the thing composed. And yet, what truly makes a good poem? Biographical and psychological considerations can be performed for both poor and good works. But how do we know which is which? This is where the Formalist stance comes in... the work will speak for itself, with its irony (Brooks believed all poetry exhibits irony, or rather, "pervasive incongruity") and subtleties. But who would bother reading something poor to begin with? Is there such a thing as a "poor poem" in the professional world? And since we all "vary enormously in [our] capabilities, [our] interests, [our] prejudices, [our] ideas," won't someone find some worth in a poem? And that goes back to the question, "Do we have a responsibility to appreciate something we don't like?"

It seems as if the questions keep coming and going in circles... and they are too in-depth for this one post... but stay tuned for more "profound" thoughts...

No comments: