3rd week of class
OK, I have got to start writing these things earlier in the day…or week…or not be doped up on cold medicine…but here goes.
First of all, I have to say that I really liked Saussure. The way he laid everything out in an organized and scientific manner really appealed to me. The idea that one can examine something given a set of tools, in this case, the ins and outs of language, and get to the bottom of it, is innately comforting. Which may explain why I didn’t really care much for Derrida, in general. But more on that later. I was particularly drawn to the interplay of seeming opposites, and the idea that nothing articulated in language has a positive meaning in and of itself, but is instead defined by the various things or ideas that it is not. I have never thought about it this way, but it really is true. There is no way to explain the concept of light to a person who exists in a constant state of light, is there? Light is simply what is, there is no differentiation, and therefore no cause to identify light as such. Off the subject a bit, it makes me think of a silly Broadway reference (Stephen Sondheim, from “Into the Woods”, ) “Oh, if life were made of moments, even now and then a bad one. But if life were made of moments then you’d never know you had one”. But back to Saussure. I also liked the idea of language as “a link between thought and sound”. It is never quite the same, though, when an idea is articulated through the link of languague. Something is always lost, somehow, in the translation. Which brings us to Derrida.
Perhaps I would get a better grasp of what he is trying to say if I could read his writing in the original French. I don’t have anything astute to say, so I won’t even try, but I was struck by a couple of observations he makes. The idea of play, and his admonishment of Plato is amusing. When we see Plato’s passage from Laws as trying to quantify and impose boundaries on play, play for the sake of salvation, it is of course exposed as an absurd notion. Setting restrictions and worse, making demands upon play is antithetical to the nature of play itself. However (as I posted in someone’s BLOG, I can’t remember which one now) he loses me when he takes the idea to the extremes, and abandons the search for truth, instead resorting to a constant “play” with literature, picking it apart and unraveling it by exposing its inherent contradictions and tautologies. I really disagree with one of his early assertions along this line, that traditional criticism exists as an “indispensable guardrail that has always only protected, it has never opened, a reading.” (1825). I take great umbrage with this allegation, it gets to the core of why I am studying literature. I have always loved to read, but when I began to study literature in earnest as an undergraduate I was (and still am) fascinated by the way different critical interpretations and perspectives on a text can open it up, or make the reader see it in a totally different light. I disagree with Derrida that there is no “truth” in language or literature. I think there are a number of different “truths”, a great many valid and exciting ways of examining and deriving meaning from literature. I remain captivated by the sheer breadth of possibilities a single text can hold, and refuse to discard “traditional criticism” as merely protecting a reading from understanding. But perhaps I misunderstand Derrida. It is possible. After all, language is so imperfect.
First of all, I have to say that I really liked Saussure. The way he laid everything out in an organized and scientific manner really appealed to me. The idea that one can examine something given a set of tools, in this case, the ins and outs of language, and get to the bottom of it, is innately comforting. Which may explain why I didn’t really care much for Derrida, in general. But more on that later. I was particularly drawn to the interplay of seeming opposites, and the idea that nothing articulated in language has a positive meaning in and of itself, but is instead defined by the various things or ideas that it is not. I have never thought about it this way, but it really is true. There is no way to explain the concept of light to a person who exists in a constant state of light, is there? Light is simply what is, there is no differentiation, and therefore no cause to identify light as such. Off the subject a bit, it makes me think of a silly Broadway reference (Stephen Sondheim, from “Into the Woods”, ) “Oh, if life were made of moments, even now and then a bad one. But if life were made of moments then you’d never know you had one”. But back to Saussure. I also liked the idea of language as “a link between thought and sound”. It is never quite the same, though, when an idea is articulated through the link of languague. Something is always lost, somehow, in the translation. Which brings us to Derrida.
Perhaps I would get a better grasp of what he is trying to say if I could read his writing in the original French. I don’t have anything astute to say, so I won’t even try, but I was struck by a couple of observations he makes. The idea of play, and his admonishment of Plato is amusing. When we see Plato’s passage from Laws as trying to quantify and impose boundaries on play, play for the sake of salvation, it is of course exposed as an absurd notion. Setting restrictions and worse, making demands upon play is antithetical to the nature of play itself. However (as I posted in someone’s BLOG, I can’t remember which one now) he loses me when he takes the idea to the extremes, and abandons the search for truth, instead resorting to a constant “play” with literature, picking it apart and unraveling it by exposing its inherent contradictions and tautologies. I really disagree with one of his early assertions along this line, that traditional criticism exists as an “indispensable guardrail that has always only protected, it has never opened, a reading.” (1825). I take great umbrage with this allegation, it gets to the core of why I am studying literature. I have always loved to read, but when I began to study literature in earnest as an undergraduate I was (and still am) fascinated by the way different critical interpretations and perspectives on a text can open it up, or make the reader see it in a totally different light. I disagree with Derrida that there is no “truth” in language or literature. I think there are a number of different “truths”, a great many valid and exciting ways of examining and deriving meaning from literature. I remain captivated by the sheer breadth of possibilities a single text can hold, and refuse to discard “traditional criticism” as merely protecting a reading from understanding. But perhaps I misunderstand Derrida. It is possible. After all, language is so imperfect.
posted by Jenni Lovato at 2:19:00 AM
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