On 'The World Republic of Letters'

In this chapter, Casanova writes controversially that, contrary to the widespread perception that the literary world is pure and peaceful, in reality it is a world of ‘incessant struggle and competition’. Her writing is also controversial because of her choice of language to describe interactions in the literary world. Instead of the poetic language that she says is preferred, she uses the language of economy. She asserts that interactions in the world of literature are like a ‘spiritual economy’, in that different players have certain amounts of capital, that is the respect or value that is ascribed to them. Casanova then outlines her theory of what contributes to literary capital, including age, name, language and critics. That is, the value of a literary tradition increases with age, such that older texts have more literary capital. The name of an author, when established can also bestow literary capital, as evidenced by the prestige that comes with the winning of literary prizes. Casanova also writes that certain languages are considered more literary, with their capital being influenced by other books that have been written in that language, as well as the number of speakers of the language and the number of people able to transfer books from this language to other languages to enable the continuation of circulation. Casanova argues as well that critics are very influential in determining literary capital, as, if their authority is recognised, the judgement that they make of books has objective effects, causing the books’ perceived values to rise or fall.

Casanova also outlines the role that geography and nationality can play in the world of letters. She says that this world ‘creates its own geography’, giving the example of Paris and how it became the literary world’s capital. She writes that the very fact of a belief in the universality of Paris produced real effects, making it a universal city and attracting artists from all over the world. Casanova goes on to write that literature is ‘inherently national’, that it played a role in the formation of European nations by distinguishing nations from other nations, and so endowing them with a national identity. She says that though literature over time freed itself from this close connection with the political life of the nation, for a writer their place within their national literature, and indeed the place of their national literature within international literature, remains important for characterising their work.

I found this article to be very interesting and thought provoking. As might be expected from the fact that Casanova’s book is controversial, I really hadn’t thought much about ‘literary capital’ before studying this course, nor had heard these ideas discussed in any other English course. Yet upon reading this chapter, it seems quite intuitive that the literary world functions according to ‘cultural capital’, and that the factors she outlines, and perhaps others, would be very influential in the formation of this capital. This has made me see the literary world in a new light, and it’s something I’d like to think and read more about.

On Edmunson’s Against Readings:

I set out to write this blog entry on all of the readings for week four, Edmunson, Felski and Warner, but as I was re-reading the Edmunson article I found that a lot in it that I wanted to write about, so I’ll restrict this entry to that reading only. In the article, similarly to Felski and Warners’ articles, Edmunson seeks to outline some of the problems with the way of doing literary criticism that is currently accepted within the literary establishment. He takes issue with a certain way of applying sceptical frameworks, for example, Marxian or Foucauldian, when analysing literary works of art, arguing that this is insensitive and misses the point of what we should get from studying literature. Edmunson asserts that readers of literary texts should be striving for an ‘experience of change’, that is, to be transformed in some kind of moral way through the reading of literature, and so sensitive reading - involving ‘befriending’ a text before asking questions of it’ -  is very important. Edmunson’s article, published in Profession is addressed particularly at teachers of literature and he asserts that the primary role of a teacher is to inspire change in their students through the reading of literature, and that this may particularly be important for those people who don’t fit the kind of mould that society imposes upon us.

The reason I was particularly interested in this article is that I disagree with much of Edmunson’s argument. His assertion that the ‘proper business’ of a teacher is change seems to me to be unfounded, and, frankly, sounds a little bit Disney. While I don’t deny that teachers can play an important role in shaping the ideologies of their students and so can inspire them and move them along in their life journey to be a better person (paraphrase of Edmunson), I don’t see that this moral guidance role is necessarily the primary role of a university professor. Edmunson’s argument in support of the assertion is that a teacher’s role is to educate, and that it is this kind of transformative process through literature that is true education. To me this understanding of education seems to be too narrow. Edmunson concedes that many things can be learned from reading literature, for example, to express oneself better, and I may add such things as to understand different perspectives of the world and to be familiar with literary works that have shaped our culture. Edmunson’s appreciation of the merits of literature seems to be too limited, as an example, take the statement:  ‘when a teacher admires an author enough to teach his work, then it stands to reason that the teacher’s initial objective ought to be framing a reading that the author would approve’. Here he assumes that if a teacher admires a certain work of literature he/she must approve of that author’s notion of how life should be lived and so should attempt to be sensitive to the work in such a way that would allow these ideas about life to be transmitted to his students. But this may not be the case. There can be many reasons that a work of literature may be admired, for example, mastery of language or an experimental style, without requiring the teacher to admire as well the author’s vision of the world. In sum, although Edmunson may be right in some of his ideas: that teachers and works of literature may have significant impacts on students’ lives and that texts should be read sensitively without simply applying readings thoughtlessly, I think he goes too far in his assertion that transformation is the primary role of teaching.

Bayard: How to Read…

I really enjoyed reading these excerpts, both for the interesting ideas Bayard discusses and for the way he writes. His language is accessible and quite witty in a subtle way, for example: ‘there is more than one way not to read, the most radical of which is not to open a book at all’. In regards to the content of the book, non-reading wasn’t really something I had thought about a lot previously, I suppose in part because it isn’t something that is talked about very much. Bayard refers to non-reading as a ‘forbidden subject’, one of the reasons for which he suggests is that in literary circles particular texts are ‘worshipped’. In this sense, it may be seen as sacrilege to be a non-reader of them. I certainly have experienced (along with lots of other people in the course, judging from class discussions and blogs) some sense of guilt for not having read certain ‘essential’ canonical texts, as well as an awareness of my mortality which means that I will miss out on reading a lot of wonderful books.

Although this idea that ‘even a prodigious reader never has access to more than a infinitesimal fraction of the books that exist’ was not so new to me, I really hadn’t thought very much about the conflict that Bayard goes on to develop in the example of Musil’s librarian. That is, the conflict between reading books and at the same time not losing perspective, rather being able to situate a book within the whole ‘collective library’ that exists. Bayard states that for the ‘true reader’ the totality of books counts, not individual books, and it is a little difficult to know whether he is serious at this point. Although certainly one of his key ideas is that having perspective is important, I don’t think that he is advocating a complete non-reading stance, as can be seen in his satirical approach to Valery’s non-reading. For examples, he writes of a section of Valery’s work that it ‘is devoted to Proust, whom it is difficult to avoid mentioning entirely’, hinting at the ridiculous consequences that may arise from trying to write of topics one doesn’t know in depth. Regardless of what exactly is Bayard’s intention, I think what I have taken away from this work is that perspective is important. But also, from my reaction to the suggestion that books perhaps shouldn’t be read, that I think books are really great, often for very different reasons, and it would be such a pity to have missed out on some of the books that I love.

Lastly, this book challenged my understanding of the process of reading, particularly when Bayard points out that reading a book in its entirety is rare. This made me think, when I read, do I read every word? Do I even read every sentence? I guess this made me realise that the line between reading and not reading is not as clear as I thought before.