Over-reading

November 15, 2009

As students in an English class, we have all learned the basics about literature.  I would go as far as to say they are engraved in our mind.  We cannot escape them.  Literary terms and devices chase us down the street.  Symbolism beats us, showing no mercy.  To look at a piece of literature through this lens runs through our veins.  It is almost impossible to read a book of choice – one purely for enjoyment purposes only – without contemplating the skills we’ve been honing since elementary school.  It has become a habit, this art we are being trained in.

In each class, every day of the semester, the same thing happens: we discuss the reading from whatever book, poem, or article assigned the previous day.  Most times, discussion is not grueling.  We employ our knowledge of literature and being to pull apart the writing.  However, there are those few times where the discussions takes a turn in a completely new direction.  The speaker, almost always a fellow student, begins analyzing the material in a whole new, very deep and profound way.  It’s so deep and so profound that I need to question whether or not this actually relates to what we read, and to ask:  Is there really such a thing as over-reading a text?

I’m not a creative writing major.  In fact, I have never taken a formal writing class here at Susquehanna.  The only background I have in the area is a half-year course in high school, plus the writing we had to do in our typical English classes.  But from my little experience as a writer, I find it hard to believe that authors can spend so much time and thought filling their work with limitless amounts of symbols and meaning.  When I write, I do not sit there and ponder about the bigger picture and the meaning of all the little things I incorporate into a single story.  My stories are plot driven.  The characters are influenced by people I know and I form them to be the kind of character who can not only fit into the plot, but to do so very well.  I want my characters to be realistic.  I like figurative language and try to use it whenever I can.  But there’s a point where I stop with my literary devices.

People write differently, that’s obvious.  If they didn’t we wouldn’t have the variety of literature that we have today.  While I don’t fill my work with symbols and such, other writers do.  Maybe it’s those who have been educated in the field.  Maybe it’s the people in another field, like religion or philosophy, who do.  But there has to be some point where the meaning stops.  A writer can only put so much into his writing.

This is a problem on the reader’s side.  We’ve been told that as long as we find textual evidence to support our assertion no one can say that we are wrong.  We are told it’s all about what we get out of the writing.  The writer’s intent does not matter.  But is this true?  To some extent, a writer’s intent does matter, and scholars are now starting to shift back to considering it. What writers put into the work consciously is what you should get out of their writing.  I’ll even go as far as to agree that they include some unintentional messages.  But if the idea you find in the text is really obscure, then that is over-reading.  Our interpretations have to be relevant to authors’ ideas, their point of view, politics, and other influences.  Even if you find textual evidence, if your reading is out in left field do you really think that the writer actually sat there and worked that idea out? Odds are, the answer is no.

Take this into consideration tomorrow when you sit in one of your English classes.  Keep this in mind when you’re reading.  There is such a thing as over-reading, and to do so means you are pulling something out of the work that is not there or meant to be there.

Thoughts on Google Books

September 27, 2009

With the release of Amazon’s Kindle, as well as other prototypes that followed, scholars and readers alike have begun to question the future of the book. Will the book eventually become extinct? Can it survive in the move to modern technology? Google’s recent move to digitalize books online has only pushed these questions further. How can the written word survive against other media forms?

This topic has caused nothing but heated debates in my numerous English classes. Most people seem to dislike the move to digitalization. After hearing their point of view, it’s understandable. Many of my classmates are creative writing majors, and having their work published would be a dream come true. Of course, their idea of being published has always been in a book format. They desire to hold the product of their labor, the bound book they spent hours, days, and months working on. Never did they think that publishing could one day mean having it put on the internet, as the industry considers doing. This idea contradicts the dreams they have had since they decided that they wanted to become writers.

I have mixed views on the wave of digitalization. I am an English major and do enjoy picking up a novel and reading it for my enjoyment. To be able to crawl into bed or sit on the beach with a good book is so relaxing. If I could do that everyday, I certainly would. There’s something about holding the book, turning its delicate pages, and smelling its unique smell, that gets me every time. I am sure that most, if not all of you out there reading this can agree. So I don’t mind dropping a few bucks here and there to buy a new book. The way I see it, I’m simply feeding this indulgence to read and fill my already packed bookshelf with more and more great books.

On the flip side, having books available online would be very beneficial, especially to poor college students out there like myself. In class the other day we started talking briefly about buying textbooks from the school bookstore. Of course, the company and people that run these bookstores want us to buy all of our books from them. But with their high prices, students are forced to look elsewhere because they just cannot afford to spend so much money on books, even if the bookstore is convenient location-wise. As an incoming freshman, I ordered all of my books from my school bookstore about two weeks before school started and spent about $500 for just one semester worth of books. Four months later, I sold them all back to the same bookstore. I was lucky to have made $150. That semester was a learning experience for me. I started to look online for used books at a cheaper price. This semester, I managed to spend no more than $250 on my books. That’s half the price I paid that first semester! While that is much cheaper, $250 is still a lot of money to pay for books I’m going to use for four months, then sell back for a fraction of the price. Buying college textbooks feels like a scam. It’s a process that makes the broke even more broke. We are already paying an arm and a leg for tuition, so why do we need to be charged so much for just one book?

If Google wants to digitalize books online for public use I have to say I’m all for it. It would be cheaper and more convenient for students across the country, and across the world. While I certainly love the book format, the shift to digitalization seems impending at this point. I don’t completely support this movement because I would hate to see the day when books become extinct. But at the same time, we have to realize that Google is on the verge of something beneficial to a lot of people. We need digitalization in this time of economic crisis, and Google couldn’t have begun it at a better time.