The Real Thing
February 20th, 2008 Edith
Down Memory Lane
Reading Blau’s explanation of background knowledge reminded me of the early portion of my undergraduate studies. I was already declared as an English Major. I had completed the GenEd requirements and was beginning the serious study of literature. I cannot pass my mind back far enough to remember the exact texts that we were reading and studying, but I do remember that they all seemed to refer in some way, either through a direct reference or an implied connection, to Shakespeare. This may have been a factor of the style of teaching or the prevailing theory of literary criticism of the time. Or it may have been a result of the canon of that time. This did take place at that time in our ancient history when only dead white males were seen as worthy of study. (Though in an aside, it was at this time that I encountered Eudora Welty, Flannery O’Connor, and Joyce Carol Oates. Perhaps we were on the cusp of the changing canon and I am not as old as I thought.) Anyway, whatever the reason, that is a separate discussion than the one that I want to broach here.
Back to the point, everything I read for class seemed to point to Shakespeare. I decided that if I took a class devoted entirely to the study of the Bard and his masterful creations, I would then know the source for all other literary works. I would then have the requisite background knowledge to engage in reading, interpretation, and criticism, the three fundamental skills that Scholes and Blau refer to (Blau 50-51). So it was with great anticipation that I registered for a class of Shakespeare Studies to be taught by a recognized Shakespeare scholar. At last I would be studying where it all began. This class would introduce me to the very root and of literary studies!
Imagine my disappointment! Not only was Shakespeare not the original source, he borrowed HEAVILY, some even say he plagiarized. Was I know to read Holinshed’s Chronicles the source for many of the history plays, The Decameron, the source for All’s Well that Ends Well, Arthur Brooke’s poem “The Tragicall Historye of Romeus and Iuliet,” and Plutarch’s Lives, the source for Antony and Cleopatra? I could have spent the rest of my undergraduate career searching out and reading these sometimes obscure texts. I was not only disappointed, I was disillusioned. How could a normal person, even an English major, be expected to read all these precursors? It was not possible. There was not possible way for a person to read all that material; therefore, I reasoned, there was not way to really understand the more modern, in comparison, texts. What then was the point?
At this time I was not considering a career as a teacher. I really had not thought past graduation. I was simply an English major, attempting to understand the literature before me and to make sense of the requirements involved in analyzing and writing about it. Now I question if all of this background information is truly needed. Here is a story/workshop for your consideration.
In my literature classes, each student chooses a day to lead the discussion of the story/poem assigned for that day. In a recent class, a student, we’ll call him Frank, was to lead to the discussion of Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” Those of you who are familiar with this poem will know that it is filled with references to other poems and the Biblical sources. Frank did an exemplary job leading the discussion. He offered opinions as to interpretations and criticism. He asked questions about places that puzzled him (moments of difficulty). It was obvious that he had done some outside reading because he mentioned stream of consciousness writing/thought and discussed the life of Eliot. It was also clear that he had carefully read the poem, including the footnotes. He dutifully commented on each place that a footnote mentioned Eliot’s reference to another work of literature. Yet is was equally obvious that he had not read these background sources and did not always understand the allusions being made. However, he did an EXCELLENT job of coming to grips with the (a) meaning for the poem. Did Frank miss some of the more subtle innuendos of the poem? Yes. Did this hurt his understanding of the poem? No.
So my conclusion is that background knowledge is not always necessary. In fact, I think it sometimes can be harmful. Blau mentions that many middle-aged adults of his acquaintance who thought they had happy childhoods now realize that they were abused. I contend that this is an interpretation based on newly acquired background knowledge. Perhaps they are looking at their childhoods in comparison to the childhood experiences of others. Perhaps we now hear so much in the news about abuse that we see it everywhere. Perhaps what was a normal childhood at the time that these people were growing up would be considered abuse but was standard for the time. My father began work at the age of 12. He borrowed money from the bank, bough seed, planted, tended and harvested a crop. He repaid the bank, bought his school clothes and reserved enough money to buy seed for the next year. Was this abuse? By today’s standards, with our current background knowledge, yes. By the standards of the time in which he grew up, no.
Background knowledge can be useful. However, it is not the end-all and be-all of literary studies. In some instances it can certainly add to the reading of literature or lives. However, we need to approach literature, especially in the introductory classes, with the belief that literature can be read and appreciated without all of that extra information.
It is too bad I am out of time and space. I would love to tell you about asking my Mom to fix me a bowl of soup after reading “Any Minute Mom Should Come Blasting Through the Door.”
Edith
Entry Filed under: Week 5
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