Frankly, I find the discussion about meaning tiresome. It’s obvious to me that meaning comes both from the author and the reader. Can’t we accept that and move on? (And as Crosman points out, we naturally feel our opinions are the right ones. So, I’m right. Let’s move on. Hmm… Actually, I am rarely confident that my opinion is correct. Even when I am right, it’s quiet natural for me to doubt myself. — Wait, am I contradicting myself? What’s my point? Where am I going?)

While I’d like to dismiss the debate with the conclusion that meaning is generated both by the author and the reader, Crosman has added some depth and breadth to my understanding of the issue. Perhaps most strikingly by showing how rarely I carry what I know to be true of the writing process over to the reading process. While I tend to start writing with no idea where I am going, with no solid or brilliant meaning to convey, I seem to go into reading believing that this is what authors do: they write with fixed meaning. But as Crosman points out, writers actually tend to make their meaning not only as they go along (developing their ideas) but as they read what they have written. They interpret what they’ve written and rewrite/continue to write accordingly. Certainly most recorded reflections on what they’ve written usually comes in their own re-reading/interpretation of their text. This in itself can be flawed, as not only are our memories faulty, but writing often taps the subconscious in ways the writer may not be fully aware of. For example, a critic in a writer’s workshop may point out a meaning the writer had not considered, and the writer may say, “Brilliant, yes, that’s a huge issue in my life. I hadn’t even realized it, but subconsciously, the meaning was there.” While I had thought of the author’s intended meaning as the most objective meaning to pursue, Crosman points out just how equivocal even that meaning may be.

And the question: What do we mean, by “meaning.” I love the question. Asking people to define a word they use is one of my favorite conversational tendencies. If someone asks if I want coffee, it’s very conceivable that my response will be a slow and cautious: “Define coffee.” Do they mean drive through McDonalds? The sludge that’s been sitting on the burner in the cafeteria for three hours? An hour in the cafeteria going over some work-related issue? A couple hours at Starbucks chatting about life? A casual, easy-to-propose date? Or … do they want me to interpret it and lead the way, leaving me in control of what, exactly, I am saying “Yes,” to.

So often we think we know what someone means, when we have no idea. As discussed last week, our interpretive mechanisms are very biased.

Acknowledging the complexity of meaning seems to be the most helpful thing we can do for students. Crosman points out three ways we tend to use the word when discussing the “meaning” of a text: the author’s intent, the reader’s understanding, and the value. Considering our previous readings on starting with what the student knows, validating their understanding of the text (what they see in it and can connect with) as a legitimate meaning, and then adding to that with the meaning we think was intended by the author (building their connections to historical and other contexts), and then discussing the value/weight of the text (adding significance to these connections) seems like a good way to help students to progress along the stages between novice and expert.