As I was reading, efferently for information of course, I wondered about the power of the reader. Although discussed at length, I do not believe that Rosenblatt came out, to meet my expectations, in giving the reader who is involved in transaction with the text the ultimate agency. I wanted her to say that the reader could choose, or refuse rather, the aesthetic of a particular text. It still seemed to me that she felt the onus was on the text to elicit reader engagement. I realize that it’s a bit of a chicken or the egg sort of relationship, defining and depending upon one another, but I felt like her position on efferent (not to mention indifferent) attitude was not developed enough. What about the mind that is not “excited by the attractions of the journey itself” (28)? Does this person have the power to keep a text from becoming art? This is not simply about the person who glosses information or looks a painting/listens to music and is uninterested/unmoved., but it is about that person. Does their unwillingness or fear of delving/view of “art” as inconsequential have the ability to ransack the artist, rendering them impotent since the piece failed to move? And what if there is a moment, but it doesn’t take hold – the stalk is choked by the thorns or wilts for lack of water? If I am not continuously moved, has my lack of awareness slammed the door shut on the text’s ability to make meaning?
Her study, too, is skewed for me. The basis of Chapter 2 came from the reactions of graduate students in English, trained in a system of interpreting texts, much like extroverts living in an extrovert-driven/praised/valued society. I wonder what her statements would have been if she took information from mildly disinterested teenagers. Are we to look at how the trained and motivated approach texts or those who are new to language and interpretation, those who have yet to be tainted or disturbed? That asked, the story of the eight-year-old who cannot get past the idea of rabbits with pocket watches hits me in a way that saddens me, urges me to grab the system by the shoulders and shake. We have made poems and other textual art into work. There is always something to find, something to know, some form to learn. Will I matter-of-factly tell my daughter, “What you seem to have misunderstood about the attitude with which you are to approach listening to my bedtime story is that you should not be so efferent,”? No, I will not, and I hope that in how we treat reading situations, she will understand the difference of situations, preventing us from getting to that point. Rosenblatt suggests that the aesthetic reader can focus enough to do the efferent reading if they needed.
In order to find a place where transaction can occur, where the text and the reader simultaneously form environments for each other, do we have to retrain our brains? Our hearts? The “inner ears” of our students? So often, we teach people to listen to directions, to listen for the facts, but rarely do we exercise listening to self. Self can be so unimportant in school. The universe is big, and I am insignificant in it all – that is a quantifiable number: 1 in 7 billion.
There was so much in these first three chapters that I did like, mostly was the notion on page 29 that the artist is aspiring to the moment of absorbing a reader in the performance of the art. It may even be less than that – when the artist, himself, is absorbed in the production, no reader need apply.
Interesting thoughts! I felt several of the same things as I read, and now I'm wondering to what extent Rosenblatt's theory is a catch all (or if it is even meant to be) for all reading. Her sense of efferent to aesthetic as existing along a spectrum helps us not dichotomize too much, but it still seems limited. Perhaps differentiating efferent and aesthetic reading help get at what artful literature is? I'm still not sure that she does a complete job, but maybe it's a good starting point...
ReplyDeleteJohnathan,
ReplyDeleteI liked Rosenblatt's comparison of a text to a piece of sheet music. The music is not music without someone to play it. A text cannot become a poem with a reader; just like a person can't be a reader without a text to read. I felt like her descriptions of the necessity of a reader gives agency to students when most often they do feel insignificant in the study of literature. Does the text have no meaning if the reader is not moved? I'm not sure. There are things that get in the way of a reading experience. Rosenblatt mentions preoccupations, misconceptions, or inattentiveness. How do we know, then if a reader is not moved by the text or if he/she is just preoccupied?
Johnathan,
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, thank you for challenging and engaging so critically with the text! It does not seem at first glance that you had a completely efferent reading, because I sense emotion in your response. I find it interesting that you bring in the role of the author, looking at the act of reading with a writer's sensibility. Rosenblatt seems to take for granted the idea that a published text is severed from the artist and exists alone, something that may not necessarily be true.
I don't think the idea in question is that of the "success" or "accomplishment" of a work of art or piece of literature. How would we define this? Should we? If a reader chooses not to engage with the text or be moved by it, then yes, they have not created a "poem" as Rosenblatt defines it. They have, however, likely created meaning from the text, just not a personal meaning that is likely to affect their inner self. I don't think she sees these types of readings as useless or without value, rather that she wishes to call attention to the differences between the two.
I too have questions about "retraining..." and how that fits into school. Hmm.