Thursday, November 1, 2012

An Analysis of the Analyses of Kindred

It seems that, thus far, attempts to write about Kindred on this blog have taken one of two forms – the first, an overarching critique of style (or a justification of a style that others have critiqued), or secondly, an intensely close examination into a singular aspect of the story. I am not convinced that either technique is appropriate.
The first type of blog posters seem to consistently begin with an emotional or evaluative statement about the book as a whole, either in regards to what was ineffective or, as Joe put it, by justifying why “some parts of the book were not that awful .” This is certainly useful for the purpose of cataloging initial reactions to this work, it does not, itself, serve as helpful analysis. To simply critique the style or quality of the writing is not our primary goal in this class; we are here as analyzers, not as literary critics. If these critiques were centered around aspects of the novel that are relevant to Butler's focus, our complaints would be closer to the mark, but thus far they have not been. They have been criticisms of character quality, or of subjective emotional impact. I dislike Oliver Twist for the two-dimensional characters and hackneyed tropes it uses as well, but it hardly diminishes the quality or importance of the book as a piece of literature. It only draws into question the quality of the writing (I do claim that there is a large difference between literature and writing, but that ought to be saved for another post.)
The second almost invariably focuses on a minute aspect of the story, such as Rufus' sexual longing, or on the nature of time travel. This keeps the post closer to the purpose of the class in the sense of our role as analyzers, but is strangely almost less helpful than a generalization about the text as a whole. As within The Things They Carried, Bulter is attempting to capture a gestalt of a concept within her writing, and does so without the help of the absent fourth wall that O'Brien consistently leans on. As such, it is the combination of each individual aspect of Dana's experience that leads us to the image of slavery as a whole. Perhaps, if we examined and analyzed many different aspects of slave life as Bulter presents them, we would get a better focus of the novel as an entity, but narrowing down on a single topic within our blog post is like a group of blind men examining an elephant; well-intentioned, but fruitless in their isolation and lack of communication between each other.
I am excited for our discussion today, but it seems as though there are a few flaws and bad habits in our mode of analytical examination in relation to Kindred that have yet to be fixed. To me, this alone makes this book worth reading; it has brought to the forefront of my mind the nature of our analytical role as readers and as students of literature.

5 comments:

  1. I personally don't see anything wrong with any of these blog posts. The purpose of the blog is to "react contemplatively, eloquently and creatively" to the texts. So if people want to post their emotional reactions to the text that's fine as long as it's "contemplative, eloquent, and creative." And the posts I've read all seem to follow those guidelines. While I can't speak for them because I actually enjoyed the book, I don't think the people criticizing Kindred were trying to diminish or attack its value. They simply didn't enjoy reading it and that's what they decided to write about. That's no crime if you ask me.
    I was a culprit of focusing of a single aspect of the text, but again I see no crime in that. It's just one way of analyzing a work. The single aspects all fit individually into the meaning of the work as a whole. But I don't find that I have enough room in one blog post to be that general. It's also my way of responding "creatively" to the readings by analyzing it from a specific perspective. I definitely wouldn't call it "fruitless." I do see what you're saying about the lack of communication with each other. To be honest, I wrote my post without having read anyone else's yet so it doesn't fit together in some larger, cohesive analysis of the book on the blog. However, I still see no sin in that. Like I said, it was an aspect that struck me while I was reading and I found it fascinating enough to write about and share.

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  2. I would have to disagree with this analysis, Austin, although I see your point. I do agree that we, as students, should be more than consumers of literature, but also approach it from a critical, analytical perspective. However, I don't think there is such a clear delineation between these roles of 'literary critic' and 'literary analyst' that would allow us to separate our emotional reactions and judgments of the book's merit from a broader, more critical analysis. As a matter of fact, I think that the two are intertwined, provided that we take the time to look for the connections. After all, one could make the critical judgment "All of the characters seem flat and there is little growth or development" and then use this as a point from which to develop a deeper analysis of the narrative purpose of having 'flat' characters. I agree that these emotional reactions are not our primary purpose, but I don't think that warrants their exclusion from our blog space either. As to the second point, I would say that an in-depth analysis of one literary aspect can be very beneficial so long as it is used as an instrument for thinking about the narrative as a whole. The gestalt concept can be approached from one very specific point as long as it is acknowledged that this one point does not stand in isolation, but plays a role that is intertwined with the larger narrative. It can be a microcosm of sorts, representing a condensed version of a broader, overarching theme and giving the reader a convenient entrance point into analyzing such themes. Perhaps the problem with the blog posts is their brevity; literary discussion of the type that you are outlining would be better suited to a paper or class discussion or some less cursory format. I think both forms of analysis can and should exist together to provide a more comprehensive view of the narrative. It all depends on where we take these analyses and whether we invest them with genuine thought and consideration, whether of an emotional, critical, or analytical variety.

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  4. I accept your analysis of this particular part of "the elephant." What seems more interesting to me, however, is the seemingly greater interest in discussing/arguing about HOW we're talking about the book, rather than the book itself. It's like...META-ANALYSIS (oh no). Everybody seems a bit more fired up (or, as fired up as people can be in a comparative literature class) about the way in which people are choosing to approach Kindred. Some people don't like that others are focusing too much on the time travel parts of the book, or the style of writing, or the character development. But when we get down to the "real stuff," I don't see much besides perfunctory academic analysis, done because that's simply what one does in literature courses. What's the value in that?

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  5. I find this post highly ironic. A post criticizing other posts for inadequate critique of the novel? That shit's meta, man. And also it is coincidentally not actually a critique of any of the novels we've been reading at all. Although, I guess actual novel analysis isn't all this blog is meant to be - responding to each others' posts and challenging ideas is definitely an important part of the blog. Good work on the post and I enjoy the spirit of the blog.

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