In Literary Theory: An Introduction, Terry Eagleton hits the nail when he writes that "Structuralism scandalized the literary Establishment with its neglect of the individual, its clinical approach to the mysteries of literature, and its clear incompatibility with common sense" (94). Structuralism is scandalous, and it is not only incompatible with common sense, but offends it-at least initially.
How could it not? While a study of semiotics or paradigms or even synchronicity can be "fun" to "dabble" in, structuralism goes ten thousand steps further as it removes meaning entirely from the picture and places language at the forefront of everything. Gone, charges Saussure, are mere "referents," and chaos it seems ensues. Indeed, the orthodox Structuralist reading baffles the mind, trained as we all are to account for and understand not only one, but multiple shades of meaning. In its entire dismissal of theoretically seminal concern with meaning, Structuralism effectively alienates many people; Eagleton concurs: "Structuralists appeared to constitute a scientific [elite], equipped with an esoteric knowledge far removed from the 'ordinary' reader" (98).
For the typical English graduate student, "text," "theory," and all the things surrounding those terms, have hopefully been serious areas of years' worth of study, thus positioning the graduate student closer to Eagleton's "scientific elite" than his "ordinary reader." And yet even as a member of the former class, I find my own mind spinning, not from a failure to understand the tenants of structuralism, but an inability to firmly grasp the point.
I acknowledge that an author cannot dictate the reader's reception of a text-if the author writes "a-p-p-l-e," Jane will see green and Joe will see red; Mary will think of a ripe piece of fruit warmed by the summer sun, and Mark will think of a poisonous treat, perhaps frothing with worms. Here is where meaning fails, here is where and why Structuralism can even exist.
But I am a writer, and while I acknowledge this inability to make perfect meaning, I still must strive to deliver to my reader the closest production of the image in my head. I cannot throw away meaning and write on a whim, asking my reader to analyze structure and structure alone. Reading would be a tedious affair were that the case; literature within the most stringent Structuralist realm becomes little more than science.
I use science here as a pejorative, though Saussure, who famously held that language should be studied as if it were frozen in time and cut transversely like a leaf, most assuredly wouldn't. Eagleton propones that Structuralism's attempt to turn the Romantic mysticism of literary interpretation, what with its symbols and attempt to engender feeling, into something mathematic or scientific has to do with, what else, religion; "Structuralism," he writes, "is among other things one more of literary theory's series of doomed attempts to replace religion with something as effective: in this case, with the modern religion of science" (104).
How could it not? While a study of semiotics or paradigms or even synchronicity can be "fun" to "dabble" in, structuralism goes ten thousand steps further as it removes meaning entirely from the picture and places language at the forefront of everything. Gone, charges Saussure, are mere "referents," and chaos it seems ensues. Indeed, the orthodox Structuralist reading baffles the mind, trained as we all are to account for and understand not only one, but multiple shades of meaning. In its entire dismissal of theoretically seminal concern with meaning, Structuralism effectively alienates many people; Eagleton concurs: "Structuralists appeared to constitute a scientific [elite], equipped with an esoteric knowledge far removed from the 'ordinary' reader" (98).
For the typical English graduate student, "text," "theory," and all the things surrounding those terms, have hopefully been serious areas of years' worth of study, thus positioning the graduate student closer to Eagleton's "scientific elite" than his "ordinary reader." And yet even as a member of the former class, I find my own mind spinning, not from a failure to understand the tenants of structuralism, but an inability to firmly grasp the point.
I acknowledge that an author cannot dictate the reader's reception of a text-if the author writes "a-p-p-l-e," Jane will see green and Joe will see red; Mary will think of a ripe piece of fruit warmed by the summer sun, and Mark will think of a poisonous treat, perhaps frothing with worms. Here is where meaning fails, here is where and why Structuralism can even exist.
But I am a writer, and while I acknowledge this inability to make perfect meaning, I still must strive to deliver to my reader the closest production of the image in my head. I cannot throw away meaning and write on a whim, asking my reader to analyze structure and structure alone. Reading would be a tedious affair were that the case; literature within the most stringent Structuralist realm becomes little more than science.
I use science here as a pejorative, though Saussure, who famously held that language should be studied as if it were frozen in time and cut transversely like a leaf, most assuredly wouldn't. Eagleton propones that Structuralism's attempt to turn the Romantic mysticism of literary interpretation, what with its symbols and attempt to engender feeling, into something mathematic or scientific has to do with, what else, religion; "Structuralism," he writes, "is among other things one more of literary theory's series of doomed attempts to replace religion with something as effective: in this case, with the modern religion of science" (104).
While I staunchly deny the possibility of Structuralism successfully replacing religion, I do, however, support its attempt to objectify that which was large subjective. Subjectivity serves vary little purpose, allowing those that hold to it false beliefs of their own importance and superiority. Objectivity, especially in terms of truth, is the intellect's only viable recourse, and imposing the parameters of objectivity onto what was at one-time seen as a willy-nilly "women's pursuit"-namely, English-seems a step in the right direction, and away from that very notion (discusses in my previous blog) that all English would be was 'an untaxing sort of affair, concerned with the finer feelings rather that the more virile topics of bona fide academic 'disciplines'" (24).
In this way, Structuralism gains merit, as well as in its project of analyzing of the various systems that transform ordinary speech into literary prose or poetry; obviously systems are at work, otherwise there would be no difference between dinner conversation and Donne, girl talk and Goethe. But these systems are not all that are of value; call me old-fashioned, but I still want to refer to the referents and make meaning of a text, not just a geometric proof.
Thank you for this!!! helped with my dance essay :)
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