English 5522 - Literary Theory and Criticism
Here is a detail of the assignment:
This final extended inquiry is to specifically grow out all the work we have done through the semester. Readings, explorations, contributions to the bulletin board are to be used in the development of this final paper. In other words, the final inquiry is to explicitly exhibit thread(s) of the semester's work and to be a vehicle for propelling your inquiry into literary theory beyond the end of this term of study. (A final paper on a subject "out of the blue" will not be accepted.)
I suggest that this paper be as long as you need it to be to fully engage your subject for purposes of coming to some NEW understanding for yourself and perhaps for your readers as well (AT LEAST 10 pages, doubled spaced, I would say). In writing this inquiry, you might consider Bloom's idea of strangeness, i.e. "an uncanny startlement rather than a fulfillment of expectations" (Bloom). In grading the final exam, I will be looking for evidence of curiosity, openness to that beyond what you think you already know, risk in thinking in new ways, and quality of thought and development.
Please send your paper to me through file download/upload by May 7. Please also send a copy of your paper to your peers through email.
Jason Hudson
Dr.T--
English 5522
7 May 2003
What is Literature's Function?
I don't know that we can ever comprehend why literature is so important to us. Doubtless there are many theories as to what literature is and why it affects us so. Is literature a tool to entertain? Is it here to amuse us? Or is it a voice of instruction? Through the course of this study, there seems to be a recurring question about the attraction of literature to the people in the world. How does it function during each period in history? What is it about literature that brings us back to it? Why is it worthy of both our esteem and inquiry? My explorations during this class have allowed me to ask questions like these and to attempt to come to some understanding of how literature functions in our world. The editor of our text says that literature functions as imitation, instruction and expression. The beauty of exploration, however, is that it takes us far beyond the surface.
It is interesting that the editor felt it was important to define "literature" in the introduction of the anthology. After all, if the subject is not defined, how can we know if it is worthy of investigation? Once noted for its validity, my inclination is to see what other subjects function the same way. It is impossible to think about literature very long without somehow equating it and its function to other artistic creations. Why do we paint? We paint to mimic, teach, and express. Why do we sculpt? We sculpt for the same reasons we paint and write. In other words, we do these things to communicate that there is an object. This object can be as simple as a bowl of fruit portrayed on canvas. The object can be as complex as an ideology written as a fictitious story. Regardless of how the object is represented, whether by brush, chisel, or pen, the aim is to communicate.
This is similar to how literature has functioned for me during my life. It has been my teacher when school was not in session. It has been my example when I had no one to look to for guidance. It has been an outlet for me to let out frustration, to scrutinize my own thoughts, to express myself. Who is a better teacher than the collective instruction of the great minds of the past and present? Who is more reliable in representing truth than those who have seen the world and have come back to describe it? It is those minds that I revisit in this paper. It is from those minds that I will celebrate literature.
The beauty that we witness around us each day is what compels the writer to write. The idea of beauty is inescapable when one considers that it plays a vital role in art. The "Beauty" that Plotinus offers us-as transcendent and pure-seems to be an elusive concept. What is beauty? If beauty is an innate concept within every being with reasoning faculties, then it becomes as elusive as the concepts of time and space. If, on the other hand, beauty is conceivable by the intellect as something extrinsic from us, then there may be hope to grapple with its function in the appreciation of art and literature.
Plotinus says that if you can see beauty in its undiluted form, then you can see the Creator of that beauty. But whence does this beauty come? Plotinus says that art has beauty but not because it is art. There is nothing within literature itself that makes it beautiful. Literature is a series of symbols written upon a page. Instead the beauty is in the Form of the art. This Form is found, according to Plotinus, "not in the material," but in the designer (Plotinus 174). In this way, literature functions as a catalyst for the writer to find the beauty within himself. This leads to another question. Does literature in and of itself have to mean anything substantial?
According to the Leitch in his introduction, Geoffrey considers the poet as "an architect" (228). The architect draws carefully thought-out plans for an edifice that will benefit him-that will serve him. Therefore, the function of his creation, according to Geoffrey, is "to serve" (229). This seems like a worthy function. A second function, according to Geoffrey, is to exercise the intellect, to provoke profound thought within the reader. He says, "Do not unveil the thing fully but suggest it by hints" (232). This also seems like a worthy function. A third function is seen in Geoffrey's comments on apostrophe. Here, he likens the poetry to a succulent feast. If with the use of apostrophe, "the courses of an excellent cuisine are multiplied," then literature is meant to please its audience. (233). Another worthy function. He finally challenges the poet to "let [his words'] meaning confer a juicy savor [. . .], and let them arrive succulent and rare" (240). But how far do we take this notion of meaning? Is it suitable to write something that will mean nothing in the future? I suppose that would depend on whether our motive is for the well-being of the present society or not.
This train of thought brings another question to mind. Does literature function as a vehicle for good and evil? It sure seems that Plato would say it does. When I read Christine's critique of literature, I can see the validity in this question.
As much as she desired to trust man's assessment that women are evil beings and distrust her own judgments on the matter, she could not shake the fact that she was being misrepresented by the philosophers and poets. For her, literature propelled a falsehood of the nature and condition of women. But Christine chose to use literature to her advantage. She used Reason, Rectitude, and Justice, the very weapons that propelled a false message about women. This helped to build a City with "sturdy foundations" and "lofty walls" because by using reasonable language, literature functioned as a logical argument against false ideas (267).
So in this light, perhaps literature functions as an educational device. It teaches us new ideas. Sidney defends poetry by showing poetry to be dignified next to fields like philosophy and history. Unlike the historian or the philosopher, the poet must necessarily use art as a buffer to reveal truth. Plotinus would agree with this assertion since the poet's strength comes in the ability to tap into the divine through art. Sidney also wants to make clear that the poet is not a liar. He simply writes the facts (facts as in a story, not necessarily reality). These facts are a source of education.
Also in reading Sidney, I found that he not only has a theory about literature's function, but he also has logical evidence to show how literature naturally functions the way it does.
For Sidney, literature is not meant to be simply a means to teach and delight through imitation. He argues that this teaching reaches to a profound level if done properly. He sets this up first by identifying the different types of poets, only one being an optimal example of a proper poet. There are poets that are inspired by false gods. There are philosopher poets that deal in matters of ethics, nature, science and history. Sidney had a real hesitation to classify them as true poets. Then, there are the ideal poets who imitate from Form. In this, they indeed tap into the divine, as Plotinus states, and act as prophets of sorts. What kind of art does this kind of artist create? I say they create art that acts as a channel to the ultimate good. Unlike Plato, who sees art as an imitation of an imitation, Sidney applauds the artist for making poetry to "imitate both to delight and teach [. . .] to move men to take that goodness in hand [. . .] which being the noblest scope to which ever any learning was directed" (332). This, to me, is the most noteworthy function of literature that there can be.
Speaking of literature as a source of delight, I move to a question about aesthetics. How does one judge whether a piece of literature is appealing or not? Where does aesthetic judgment come from?
Kant's Critique of Judgment is a statement about the phenomenon of judgment. Judgment of taste is something that occurs divorced from any bias that flows out of that which agrees with our constitution or anything that we esteem. If it is judged as beautiful, then it is beautiful.
He speaks of literature (art) having beauty, not within the object, but in the form of the object. This is similar to Plotinus' idea of beauty. Horace saw the ability to imitate the form as a way to tap into the divine and capture the beautiful. So in some ways, what Kant proposes isn't original. But he is speaking from the standpoint of the receiver of the art. When I approach a painting, I do not merely say, "This is a painting." Rather, I make some sort of judgment about the work of art. When I approach a work of literature and say, "I like this," not because of any objective consideration, but "merely [. . .] because of form," then I have made a judgment of taste. This is an interesting idea in light of my new understanding of where the form is (that is, within the writer). So again, we find that beauty is found within the writer.
Charles Baudelaire emphasizes the validity of the writer. He reflects on the distinction between general beauty and particular beauty. But does this idea not grate against Kant and the philosophy spelled out in Critique of Judgment? In Baudelaire's theory of beauty, he distinguishes between its "eternal, invariable element" and its "relative, circumstantial element" (793). This is general beauty. The latter is the beauty that comes when the artist captures 'modernity' within the piece of art.
He cites the individual's psychological and physiological constitution at the end of a bout of illness. Just after cheating death, we have much the same mindset as we did when we were children. He says, "[t]he child sees everything in a state of newness," and even refers to us as drunk (795). He is right! The difference between the genius and child is that the genius, who is much older and seasoned by the experiences of the world and has developed rationally, can analyze, organize, and categorize his experience.
What a wonderful way to see the artist's mind at work. This all occurs by watching and continuing to be curious in life. In this state, one will be able to capture the 'modernity' of the moment, the ephemeral aspect of the object expressed.
So, in literature, Baudelaire would advocate realism versus ornament. This was a highly criticized idea in his lifetime. The Victorian Era was not at its peak during his lifetime, but already the literature of his day was highly florid and colorful. I suppose the decorative language is meant as a way to bring beauty in the writing. But so far, it seems that the beauty in literature comes from within the individual. So can beauty simply be a construct of the mind?
In Sartre's words, "the relations which are established before my eyes among the trees, the foliages, the earth, and the grass would not exist at all" had it not been for me (1343). In other words, if my mind were not here to enjoy the art (literature) before me, then the art (especially the beauty in art) would not exist. It would be absurd to take this statement literally. But he says that the reader can "pretend" that the author has put certain things together in an orderly manner, when in reality, the author had no such intention. But does Sartre apply this unintentional order to nature as well? In other words, is he implying that the nature of foliage and the color of the sky are beautiful only because we have constructed them to be so? He says that in the natural world, "the tree and the sky harmonize only by chance" (1344). How can there be beauty in chaos? The only way I can reconcile the two is to say that we construct order. If foliage were less ornate, would we interpret it as beautiful still?
I pause for a moment and wonder if I am any closer at discovering literature's function. Iser gave me an interesting way to look at the activity in literature. During this study, I have been looking at literature from two sides: the side of the author and the side of the reader. According to Iser, the real power is realized between the two. Does his theory bring us any closer to an answer I am looking for?
For Iser, there are three playing fields, so to speak. First, there is the realm of the object. This is where the author supplies the text, reality is on display, the artist expresses the art, the structure is presented, and the object is available for perception. Second, there is the realm of the subject. This is the place where subjectivity reigns, aesthetics occur, the reader reads, the recipient partakes, and the subject perceives. Third, and more importantly to Iser's approach is the realm of interaction between the first two realms. This is a mysterious realm, not easily analyzed, a virtual place, a place of reciprocal movement, a place of "dynamism".
For Iser, to study the text is to miss the action. To focus on the reader's psychology is to equally miss the mark. But to consider the text along with the relationship of the reader with the text is to see motion and actualization of the work itself. For him, the work is not the text. Instead, the work actually "works" between the two poles.
Iser "stresses that interpretation is neither objective or subjective, but always a result of the dynamic interaction of the text and the reader" (1672). Further, according to the editor of the book, the text's structure guides the reader, while the reader continually modifies her viewpoint. Meaning is not static. So literature's function may be the vehicle to ride the wave of meaning. Since meaning isn't static, there must be a means of getting on board. Once aloft, we can enjoy the ride or hold on for dear life.
During the journey, there are going to be sections of the river with rapids. Why I am going into allegory mode, I have no idea. The rapids represent "misrepresentation." Harold Bloom says that every poet misrepresents in some way, the previous poet. If Bloom's poet "quests for an impossible object," (that object being the "otherness" of his precursor's work) then literature's function is to record it (1800). A record is something that can be an object of use for posterity. This notion brings me to Michael Foucault.
From Foucault I add two more functions of literature. First, literature functions as life insurance for the author. Once a work is published, the author lives forever (or at least until his work is lost and/or forgotten). Foucault says that the doctrine "of a spoken or written narrative [is] a protection against death" (1624). But he adds an interesting twist. Not only do the author's written contributions to the world create immortality, but they also "[attain] the right to kill" (1624). In other words, a debunked work is lethal.
The other function of literature is for the molding of the author's character. Foucault's words: "texts [. . . separate] one [author] from another, defining their form, and characterizing their mode of existence" (1628). This is reason enough to be cautious about what you write. But what about a writer like C.S. Lewis. His writing changed drastically over time (in line with changes in his philosophy). I suppose Foucault would like to take the writer in light of all of his works, and establish him/her in a certain category. Maybe this is why there is a concern of the entirety of an author's "works," shopping lists included. With a comprehensive image of the author through his work/works, we can better understand an author. Once the author is defined, he can be named by what he believes. We see that this is what Foucault is up to when he says, "When we say 'Aristotle,' we are using a word that means one or a series of definite descriptions of the type" (1626). In other words, every author is a "school of thought" or in Aristotle's case "schools of thought." But can we misdiagnose what an author is? Certainly there are authors that we must address as an adjective, with the particular idea as the noun (i.e., Aristotelian epistemology, Nietzschian ethics). In this way, the author functions as a mode of thinking. Foucault says the author's name "is functional in that it serves as a means of classification.
As I begin to think about the conclusion to my thoughts, I come to the question I asked at the beginning: Why literature is so important to us. During this exploration, I have sifted through the various reasons why this may be so. How literature has functioned through the centuries reveals not only why literature might be important to me, but also why it has become a lasting source of enrichment. The bottom line is that literature affects people. It entertains, amuses, teaches, and enlightens. It functions as a road map for the traveler in this life and a wealth of information for the seeker. It is worthy of our inquiry because it has the power to affect change in society. It brings the African closer to the Canadian. It shows the reader that there are people who feel the same way they do. As imitative, literature presents a version of reality that is both appealing and thought-provoking. As instructive, literature keeps us from reinventing the wheel. As expressive, literature lines our bookshelves with a wide-array of cultures and ideologies. For me, literature is a trusted friend. It is an avenue to celebrate life.
I don't know that we can ever comprehend why literature is so important to us. Doubtless there are many theories as to what literature is and why it affects us so. Is literature a tool to entertain? Is it here to amuse us? Or is it a voice of instruction? Through the course of this study, there seems to be a recurring question about the attraction of literature to the people in the world. How does it function during each period in history? What is it about literature that brings us back to it? Why is it worthy of both our esteem and inquiry? My explorations during this class have allowed me to ask questions like these and to attempt to come to some understanding of how literature functions in our world. The editor of our text says that literature functions as imitation, instruction and expression. The beauty of exploration, however, is that it takes us far beyond the surface.
It is interesting that the editor felt it was important to define "literature" in the introduction of the anthology. After all, if the subject is not defined, how can we know if it is worthy of investigation? Once noted for its validity, my inclination is to see what other subjects function the same way. It is impossible to think about literature very long without somehow equating it and its function to other artistic creations. Why do we paint? We paint to mimic, teach, and express. Why do we sculpt? We sculpt for the same reasons we paint and write. In other words, we do these things to communicate that there is an object. This object can be as simple as a bowl of fruit portrayed on canvas. The object can be as complex as an ideology written as a fictitious story. Regardless of how the object is represented, whether by brush, chisel, or pen, the aim is to communicate.
This is similar to how literature has functioned for me during my life. It has been my teacher when school was not in session. It has been my example when I had no one to look to for guidance. It has been an outlet for me to let out frustration, to scrutinize my own thoughts, to express myself. Who is a better teacher than the collective instruction of the great minds of the past and present? Who is more reliable in representing truth than those who have seen the world and have come back to describe it? It is those minds that I revisit in this paper. It is from those minds that I will celebrate literature.
The beauty that we witness around us each day is what compels the writer to write. The idea of beauty is inescapable when one considers that it plays a vital role in art. The "Beauty" that Plotinus offers us-as transcendent and pure-seems to be an elusive concept. What is beauty? If beauty is an innate concept within every being with reasoning faculties, then it becomes as elusive as the concepts of time and space. If, on the other hand, beauty is conceivable by the intellect as something extrinsic from us, then there may be hope to grapple with its function in the appreciation of art and literature.
Plotinus says that if you can see beauty in its undiluted form, then you can see the Creator of that beauty. But whence does this beauty come? Plotinus says that art has beauty but not because it is art. There is nothing within literature itself that makes it beautiful. Literature is a series of symbols written upon a page. Instead the beauty is in the Form of the art. This Form is found, according to Plotinus, "not in the material," but in the designer (Plotinus 174). In this way, literature functions as a catalyst for the writer to find the beauty within himself. This leads to another question. Does literature in and of itself have to mean anything substantial?
According to the Leitch in his introduction, Geoffrey considers the poet as "an architect" (228). The architect draws carefully thought-out plans for an edifice that will benefit him-that will serve him. Therefore, the function of his creation, according to Geoffrey, is "to serve" (229). This seems like a worthy function. A second function, according to Geoffrey, is to exercise the intellect, to provoke profound thought within the reader. He says, "Do not unveil the thing fully but suggest it by hints" (232). This also seems like a worthy function. A third function is seen in Geoffrey's comments on apostrophe. Here, he likens the poetry to a succulent feast. If with the use of apostrophe, "the courses of an excellent cuisine are multiplied," then literature is meant to please its audience. (233). Another worthy function. He finally challenges the poet to "let [his words'] meaning confer a juicy savor [. . .], and let them arrive succulent and rare" (240). But how far do we take this notion of meaning? Is it suitable to write something that will mean nothing in the future? I suppose that would depend on whether our motive is for the well-being of the present society or not.
This train of thought brings another question to mind. Does literature function as a vehicle for good and evil? It sure seems that Plato would say it does. When I read Christine's critique of literature, I can see the validity in this question.
As much as she desired to trust man's assessment that women are evil beings and distrust her own judgments on the matter, she could not shake the fact that she was being misrepresented by the philosophers and poets. For her, literature propelled a falsehood of the nature and condition of women. But Christine chose to use literature to her advantage. She used Reason, Rectitude, and Justice, the very weapons that propelled a false message about women. This helped to build a City with "sturdy foundations" and "lofty walls" because by using reasonable language, literature functioned as a logical argument against false ideas (267).
So in this light, perhaps literature functions as an educational device. It teaches us new ideas. Sidney defends poetry by showing poetry to be dignified next to fields like philosophy and history. Unlike the historian or the philosopher, the poet must necessarily use art as a buffer to reveal truth. Plotinus would agree with this assertion since the poet's strength comes in the ability to tap into the divine through art. Sidney also wants to make clear that the poet is not a liar. He simply writes the facts (facts as in a story, not necessarily reality). These facts are a source of education.
Also in reading Sidney, I found that he not only has a theory about literature's function, but he also has logical evidence to show how literature naturally functions the way it does.
For Sidney, literature is not meant to be simply a means to teach and delight through imitation. He argues that this teaching reaches to a profound level if done properly. He sets this up first by identifying the different types of poets, only one being an optimal example of a proper poet. There are poets that are inspired by false gods. There are philosopher poets that deal in matters of ethics, nature, science and history. Sidney had a real hesitation to classify them as true poets. Then, there are the ideal poets who imitate from Form. In this, they indeed tap into the divine, as Plotinus states, and act as prophets of sorts. What kind of art does this kind of artist create? I say they create art that acts as a channel to the ultimate good. Unlike Plato, who sees art as an imitation of an imitation, Sidney applauds the artist for making poetry to "imitate both to delight and teach [. . .] to move men to take that goodness in hand [. . .] which being the noblest scope to which ever any learning was directed" (332). This, to me, is the most noteworthy function of literature that there can be.
Speaking of literature as a source of delight, I move to a question about aesthetics. How does one judge whether a piece of literature is appealing or not? Where does aesthetic judgment come from?
Kant's Critique of Judgment is a statement about the phenomenon of judgment. Judgment of taste is something that occurs divorced from any bias that flows out of that which agrees with our constitution or anything that we esteem. If it is judged as beautiful, then it is beautiful.
He speaks of literature (art) having beauty, not within the object, but in the form of the object. This is similar to Plotinus' idea of beauty. Horace saw the ability to imitate the form as a way to tap into the divine and capture the beautiful. So in some ways, what Kant proposes isn't original. But he is speaking from the standpoint of the receiver of the art. When I approach a painting, I do not merely say, "This is a painting." Rather, I make some sort of judgment about the work of art. When I approach a work of literature and say, "I like this," not because of any objective consideration, but "merely [. . .] because of form," then I have made a judgment of taste. This is an interesting idea in light of my new understanding of where the form is (that is, within the writer). So again, we find that beauty is found within the writer.
Charles Baudelaire emphasizes the validity of the writer. He reflects on the distinction between general beauty and particular beauty. But does this idea not grate against Kant and the philosophy spelled out in Critique of Judgment? In Baudelaire's theory of beauty, he distinguishes between its "eternal, invariable element" and its "relative, circumstantial element" (793). This is general beauty. The latter is the beauty that comes when the artist captures 'modernity' within the piece of art.
He cites the individual's psychological and physiological constitution at the end of a bout of illness. Just after cheating death, we have much the same mindset as we did when we were children. He says, "[t]he child sees everything in a state of newness," and even refers to us as drunk (795). He is right! The difference between the genius and child is that the genius, who is much older and seasoned by the experiences of the world and has developed rationally, can analyze, organize, and categorize his experience.
What a wonderful way to see the artist's mind at work. This all occurs by watching and continuing to be curious in life. In this state, one will be able to capture the 'modernity' of the moment, the ephemeral aspect of the object expressed.
So, in literature, Baudelaire would advocate realism versus ornament. This was a highly criticized idea in his lifetime. The Victorian Era was not at its peak during his lifetime, but already the literature of his day was highly florid and colorful. I suppose the decorative language is meant as a way to bring beauty in the writing. But so far, it seems that the beauty in literature comes from within the individual. So can beauty simply be a construct of the mind?
In Sartre's words, "the relations which are established before my eyes among the trees, the foliages, the earth, and the grass would not exist at all" had it not been for me (1343). In other words, if my mind were not here to enjoy the art (literature) before me, then the art (especially the beauty in art) would not exist. It would be absurd to take this statement literally. But he says that the reader can "pretend" that the author has put certain things together in an orderly manner, when in reality, the author had no such intention. But does Sartre apply this unintentional order to nature as well? In other words, is he implying that the nature of foliage and the color of the sky are beautiful only because we have constructed them to be so? He says that in the natural world, "the tree and the sky harmonize only by chance" (1344). How can there be beauty in chaos? The only way I can reconcile the two is to say that we construct order. If foliage were less ornate, would we interpret it as beautiful still?
I pause for a moment and wonder if I am any closer at discovering literature's function. Iser gave me an interesting way to look at the activity in literature. During this study, I have been looking at literature from two sides: the side of the author and the side of the reader. According to Iser, the real power is realized between the two. Does his theory bring us any closer to an answer I am looking for?
For Iser, there are three playing fields, so to speak. First, there is the realm of the object. This is where the author supplies the text, reality is on display, the artist expresses the art, the structure is presented, and the object is available for perception. Second, there is the realm of the subject. This is the place where subjectivity reigns, aesthetics occur, the reader reads, the recipient partakes, and the subject perceives. Third, and more importantly to Iser's approach is the realm of interaction between the first two realms. This is a mysterious realm, not easily analyzed, a virtual place, a place of reciprocal movement, a place of "dynamism".
For Iser, to study the text is to miss the action. To focus on the reader's psychology is to equally miss the mark. But to consider the text along with the relationship of the reader with the text is to see motion and actualization of the work itself. For him, the work is not the text. Instead, the work actually "works" between the two poles.
Iser "stresses that interpretation is neither objective or subjective, but always a result of the dynamic interaction of the text and the reader" (1672). Further, according to the editor of the book, the text's structure guides the reader, while the reader continually modifies her viewpoint. Meaning is not static. So literature's function may be the vehicle to ride the wave of meaning. Since meaning isn't static, there must be a means of getting on board. Once aloft, we can enjoy the ride or hold on for dear life.
During the journey, there are going to be sections of the river with rapids. Why I am going into allegory mode, I have no idea. The rapids represent "misrepresentation." Harold Bloom says that every poet misrepresents in some way, the previous poet. If Bloom's poet "quests for an impossible object," (that object being the "otherness" of his precursor's work) then literature's function is to record it (1800). A record is something that can be an object of use for posterity. This notion brings me to Michael Foucault.
From Foucault I add two more functions of literature. First, literature functions as life insurance for the author. Once a work is published, the author lives forever (or at least until his work is lost and/or forgotten). Foucault says that the doctrine "of a spoken or written narrative [is] a protection against death" (1624). But he adds an interesting twist. Not only do the author's written contributions to the world create immortality, but they also "[attain] the right to kill" (1624). In other words, a debunked work is lethal.
The other function of literature is for the molding of the author's character. Foucault's words: "texts [. . . separate] one [author] from another, defining their form, and characterizing their mode of existence" (1628). This is reason enough to be cautious about what you write. But what about a writer like C.S. Lewis. His writing changed drastically over time (in line with changes in his philosophy). I suppose Foucault would like to take the writer in light of all of his works, and establish him/her in a certain category. Maybe this is why there is a concern of the entirety of an author's "works," shopping lists included. With a comprehensive image of the author through his work/works, we can better understand an author. Once the author is defined, he can be named by what he believes. We see that this is what Foucault is up to when he says, "When we say 'Aristotle,' we are using a word that means one or a series of definite descriptions of the type" (1626). In other words, every author is a "school of thought" or in Aristotle's case "schools of thought." But can we misdiagnose what an author is? Certainly there are authors that we must address as an adjective, with the particular idea as the noun (i.e., Aristotelian epistemology, Nietzschian ethics). In this way, the author functions as a mode of thinking. Foucault says the author's name "is functional in that it serves as a means of classification.
As I begin to think about the conclusion to my thoughts, I come to the question I asked at the beginning: Why literature is so important to us. During this exploration, I have sifted through the various reasons why this may be so. How literature has functioned through the centuries reveals not only why literature might be important to me, but also why it has become a lasting source of enrichment. The bottom line is that literature affects people. It entertains, amuses, teaches, and enlightens. It functions as a road map for the traveler in this life and a wealth of information for the seeker. It is worthy of our inquiry because it has the power to affect change in society. It brings the African closer to the Canadian. It shows the reader that there are people who feel the same way they do. As imitative, literature presents a version of reality that is both appealing and thought-provoking. As instructive, literature keeps us from reinventing the wheel. As expressive, literature lines our bookshelves with a wide-array of cultures and ideologies. For me, literature is a trusted friend. It is an avenue to celebrate life.