Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Are Great Books great?


Now, shifting my focus to literature, I do actually wonder what renders a work of literature as a classic (this thought was brought on by the reading from Richter). Would I ever have known that any book is a classic if I was not told that it was? Perhaps not. Today, I reflected on the fact that most of the books on my list of favorites are classics. One explanation that Tompkins discusses is that these works are classics because they have stood the test of time. They have persisted through changing times and have been widely read all this time, thus earning classic status. I do agree with this somewhat, yet I can also see the counterargument that these books are just imposed upon us. There are many books I've read in high school which I hated and was forced to complete, simply because people with bad taste (though pragmatically speaking, taste that just differed from my own) had decided that they were phenomenal. Nonetheless, I feel as though I would have missed out on vital literary experiences, had I not been prompted to read books such as The Great Gatsby, Frankenstein, Wuthering Heights, Gulliver's Travels (and the list goes on). Of course, one's own taste will render the final verdict on whether a book is good or bad, but it is safe to say that most of the Great Books are actually great and should be read.

What makes a book a classic is its ability to captivate the human experience. Times change, situations change, but the human experience remains intrinsic to all of mankind. Greek mythology is the framework of the
Odyssey, but the prevalent themes encapsulate experiences that pertain to human beings regardless of culture. The content that emanates often from the subtext of a work is what makes the writing timeless, because at any given point, humans are going to experience these universal sentiments and emotions. It's true that there are many other books that address the same topics of interest yet do not qualify as classics. When I hear of the word classic though, I think of something that's the first of its kind.

What differentiates a good classic from a bad classic is diction and most importantly the manner in which the author executes the plot. For example,
Ethan Frome is irrefutably a classic because Edith Wharton excellently captures the melancholy life of a man who makes a bad choice in life. I didn't like the book when I read it because the plot was mundane and the symbolism too excessive--I find that whenever the symbolism is being focused on more than the actual content and form, the literary quality of a work is being defiled. For one thing, when there are too many objects and details that can be interpreted as symbols, we start over-interpreting the writing and ultimately its literary appeal is lost. Why focus on symbols that may or may not be there when the author's content and form is already conveying the point in a more straightforward manner? The only kind of symbol that I feel is legit is a symbol in the form of a motif--there has to be a reason why Hawthorne brings up a scaffold and a rosebush more than once in The Scarlet Letter; it's not random. Another thing I've noticed is that for some people, themes are enough to make a book a fantastic read. Perhaps I'm just a stickler for good diction and syntax since I love words so much. However, an author's choice of words reveals far more than random details. Most importantly, instead of being forced to look for symbols, students should be forced to read closely! Not that details are bad, but in most situations I like referring to this quote by Oscar Wilde:

“One should absorb the color of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar.”

After I've read a good book, I don't necessarily remember random details, but I always seem to remember quotes from the book and how the book made me feel (the feeling comes entirely from the manner in which the author conveys his ideas--formal quality of the text, the best of which is captured in memorable quotes). I'm all for absorbing the essence of literature rather than “[torturing] a confession out of it” as Billy Collins claims in his poem, “Introduction to Poetry.” And speaking of poetry, poems seem to be scrutinized and dissected to even greater lengths than books. Perhaps this is why I never developed a taste for poetry. We, as students, are told to look for many things, yet we are rarely encouraged to first comprehend the poem's meaning. We always come back to content and form when it comes to understanding the meaning of any written work, so why not just begin with content and form and stick with it? It happens too often that we're forced to take our opinions from others. Something can be a classic but it doesn't have to be good. Usually though if a classic, even if it's bad, is a classic indeed, it will leave the reader open to the idea of taking a second look. I never liked
Ethan Frome but I do believe that it has substance and is worth taking another stab at.

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