August 8, 2018
Misunderstanding Books: The Era of the Unsophisticated Reader
Some time ago, I read a bizarre “review” (more about it in a moment) of a book I had read myself. The reviewer had written something in the direction of “I kept reading thinking that it’d get better, but it never did. The story was left unresolved.” That was basically it, that was the review. I’ve talked before about reviewing books fairly, but today we’ll tackle another issue: that of misunderstanding books.
It goes without saying that this was not a review. You can’t spend two lines (or even two hundred) saying simply “I didn’t like it” and claim this is a review. Perhaps we could call it a “rating rationale” though semantics isn’t the crucial factor here. Rather, I’d like to focus on something far more serious. Something that has far-reaching consequences for the current state as well as the future of our societies.
Misunderstanding Books Is not the Same as Forming a Different Meaning
Two people will not read a given book the same way. Often the same person might form a different impression on a subsequent reading. As I explained in my article on chaos and meaning, the whole idea of literature is that you can bring your own experiences into the world of the novel. Sometimes we might even refuse to read a book even though we know there’s nothing wrong with it.
However, this is entirely different from misunderstanding the very world of the book itself.
At this point, it might be pertinent to refer to the particular example I talked about opening this article, as it might be easier to flesh out the details using an actual case.
On Genre, Ambiguity, and Misunderstanding Meaning
As I mentioned, I happen to have read the book the review of which I referred to. It is what one could call accessible literary fiction. That is, a novel relatively easy to read (structurally speaking), yet still complex in its retrospection. At least based on my reading, I would call it a symbolic, ambiguous novel that directs the reader to form their own opinion, rather than force-feed them the answers.
It became painfully obvious to me that the reviewer misunderstood the book entirely. That is, they did not realize that it was the very essence of the novel (its “world”, as I mentioned a while ago) that assigned this open-endedness, this ambiguity to it.
The Horrific Emptiness of Linearity
Although this is only a guess, it is an educated one: like an inexperienced sailor drifting into rough weather, the reader probably approached that specific novel the way they would approach genre fiction. If you remember my article on linear narrative progression, I said there that
[o]ne of the biggest markers of inexperienced genre fiction writers is the way their narratives progress. In genre fiction such as romance fiction, detective fiction, etc. events often occur in a very linear way.
Apparently, the reader assumed a very clear, point-A-to-point-B narrative progression in which everything should be explained (=force-fed) to the reader, without any ambiguity. That, is a horrifying way of approaching literary fiction.
As a literary fiction author myself, I felt for the writer of that book. It reminded me of another case, when a reviewer left a 1-star review for a thriller book because it was… too thrilling and the reader felt too scared. I swear, I’m not making it up.
But why is this a horrifying way of approaching (literary) fiction? More importantly, why is misunderstanding books in this way a bad omen for the current state and the future of our societies?
The Social Dimension of Misunderstanding Books
Misunderstanding books isn’t a new thing, by all means. There have always been people who look at your finger when you show them the moon. Consequently art, which by nature is symbolic and abstract, is particularly susceptible to misunderstandings.
The reason misunderstanding books (in the fashion I explained) is horrifying, is this:
The impact of art lies in its ability to express the inexpressible and to portray the unportrayable. In order to do that, it relies precisely on symbolism, ambiguity, and multi-layered interpretations. To read literature removing this element, cancels its greatest asset.
Misunderstanding Books as a Result of Simplifying Reality
Once I had a bizarre discussion with a colleague about music. She’d said she only listened to country music, because it was self-evident. I asked her to clarify, and she said she didn’t like other genres of music because the lyrics could mean anything, whereas she wanted a simple, easy story.
Needless to say, I was quite baffled by this. Much later, I realized that such behaviors are all interconnected.
You might remember my article on why people need simple answers to complex questions. I then mentioned how seeking (and creating) simple answers to complex questions is a responsibility-stripping process. In essence, by espousing a simplistic worldview, people absolve themselves of any great responsibility to perform systemic changes.
It is the same with misunderstanding books. To condition one’s self to read and interpret a novel in simplistic, linear terms, means to reject the task of creating connections, pondering on the human experience, and “working” for the creation of meaning.
The Future of an Artless Society
The problems of such practices should be clear to every thinking human being. The thing is, it’s not them who need to know. As with climate change, the people who listen are those who know already, while those who need to know don’t bother to listen.
If readers continue to approach reading fiction as if it were a shopping list, the art of reading will disappear. This introduces a dangerous whirlpool effect, in which it becomes progressively harder to escape. Readers who learn to expect zero ambiguity and Hollywood-style point-A-to-point-B narratives, begin to find flaws in symbolic narratives.
Personally, it scares me.
3 Comments
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Many, if not most, readers have to start somewhere, and that is usually with the easier reading.
I think the huge number of readers who hated their high school and college literature classes were given more than they could handle from where they started.
But if these same readers stick with reading, but never progress much beyond the genre works, they might as well not read. The consumption of vast quantities of the same only slightly different never stretches their imagination. Others just stop reading completely.
It’s a pity.
You make a good point about high school and college literature classes. There is definitely an imbalance there. When I was in high school (in Greece) I had to read Homer, Euripides, Xenophon, and all the rest of the literary giants; sometimes in ancient Greek (which is basically a different language compared to modern Greek). I hated every moment of it.
Thankfully, I maintained enough interest in literature, reading, and writing, that in later years I decided to read them again, because I was interested. I can clearly see why a “traumatized” student would have a very negative reaction and abandon classic or complex works as a result of school/college.
This is on educators – sometimes it’s teachers to blame, but the problem is usually more systemic. If you can’t (either as an individual or as a system) to show to a 16-yr-old today why Euripides, Shakespeare, or Byron are more relevant than ever, you’ve lost the game.
Sorry you hated enforced reading, but I’m not suprised. On the other hand, you DID read you cultural icons.
I had exposure to all the classics at a relatively young age (I read all of Sherlock Holmes at 9, for example) because they were there and because I wanted to – so you could say I read Great Expectations without any, and in the same way people in the age of Dickens would have, uncommented, unforced, and unvarnished by the critics. Because I found it entertaining.
I have never been assigned something to read, and told I had to write about it (I grew up in Mexico, but my reading for pleasure was in English and anything I could get my hands on). I’m sure it affected me very differently than those kids who have to memorize the symbolism in ‘Tale of Two Cities.’
My kids got a similar treatment but with some direction – gobs and gobs of books to read on their own, with mom slipping classics into the mix, reading some aloud, and finding what they liked. They probably had to analyze and write in college, but never complained about it.
Don’t worry (/sarcasm). Many schools are busy dumbing down their curricula and taking any remaining pleasure out of learning.