How Does the Writer Effect Perception of His Work?

[jerry]

In Katy Carl's review of Uwan Akpan's book, Say You're One of Them, she laments that the inevitable attention the book will garner will not likely factor how the author's "Catholic faith shapes his narratives, or even find that phenomenon worth accounting for." It'd be difficult to disagree with this observation from a Catholic perspective, and I don't wish to contest her point. I'd, nevertheless, like to explore the value of knowing the writer's background when reading his work.

There are obvious advantages that I'm sure Katy Carl had in mind when she wrote her review, and, specifically from the review, one can conclude as such based on her thoughts on the story Luxurious Hearses. In fact, her assessment is very much reminiscent of what one can gather from the ending of Graham Greene's novel The Heart of the Matter. *Spoiler Alert* The climactic scene, where Scobie, after having given into utter despair and painstakingly attended to making his suicide appear as a natural death--just before losing consciousness--senses that "someone wandered, seeking to get in, someone appealing for help, someone in need of him. And automatically at the call of need, at the cry of the victim, Scobie strung himself to act." Greene brilliantly left open both the possibility for perfect contrition and the possibility that Scobie died unrepentant. Might this be seen by those who haven't seriously been factoring the heavy Catholic influence of the novel? Perhaps not. *End of Spoiler*

Now, what could be the disadvantages of knowing the background of the author? One might judge their work unfairly, such as those who suggest Flannery O'Connor was a racist, and those who might unjustly read, say, Virginia Woolf's work through a lesbian lens. There's also the danger of trying to understand the writer through his fiction, or even misunderstanding a writer's belief and mistakenly let that affect the reader's judgment. And what about hypocrisy? Hypocrisy itself doesn't discredit the message but the messenger, although it may detract from the message itself and how it may be received. So could it be the same for the writer? Might what the writer have to say be better gauged on an objective level by excluding the writer from consideration - aside from initial authorial intention?

I suppose the last clause at the end complicates matters. Might authorial intention be for the reader to peruse the story, knowing that the story was influenced by the Catholic faith? Perhaps a better question might be, "Is it vitally important to read a story, knowing such a thing?" Certainly, it'd be more apparent to a Catholic reader that Greene intended to allow for hope to remain in The Heart of the Matter, as it would also be to know Flannery O'Connor was not a racist (and, in fact, she always respectfully portrayed black people in her stories). My concern lies in the writer's life unwittingly reflecting negatively on an intended message, and, thus, obscuring what may already be an abstract point to those who don't quite understand the Catholic faith.

Perhaps I'm overstating the possible effect of the disadvantages. It's practically inevitable that people will judge a story however they wish, and whether they know who the writer is or not isn't necessarily important. Despite authorial intention, ultimately, it can be said, the work of the writer transcends who the writer is. The writer isn't the best authority, in my opinion, for understanding the literary merit of a work. It may be that, as Katy Carl quotes in her review, "the whole personality of the writer participates in the act of writing", but over time, countless readers and literary critics add their own thoughts and observations to a work and will likely see more of what one writer may ever know, whether it be consciously, subconsciously, or not at all, no matter if the writer likes it or not. Once the work is complete, the writer no longer has control over his creation, irrespective of copyright law; the creation is left to independently be.

Nonetheless, what do you think can be gained and lost when the writer is and is not taken into account when reading a writer's work? What other thoughts do you have to add to my own?

[firefolk]

I don't know, dude. I went through a phase a few years ago where I must've read over a dozen books about J.R.R. Tolkien, and I don't think I can honestly say they modified my perception or enjoyment of his work in any way, good or bad. However, the books themselves were fun to read for their own sake. I almost wonder if reading ABOUT an author isn't just a way for us to try and re-capture the state of unfamiliarity we had with that author before we first started reading him or her, in order to re-experience the awe of discovering him for the first time. (Or her. Sorry.) Not, of course, that reading history and biography isn't an enriching pursuit; but--hmm--I confess I'm a little skeptical about whether a knowledge of an author's personal life is at all relevant to an understanding of his work. To an understanding of what he's ATTEMPTING to say--yes, obviously. But that's not the point. The key thing to remember is, if the work were not already successful in its own right (and I mean "successful" in a literary, not necessarily a commercial, sense), then we wouldn't be interested in the author's personal life in the first place.

[jerry]

Fire, thanks for your thoughts. You bring up a good point about interest in an author's life. This reminds me of a point I forgot to mention before. What about literary criticism that looks for autobiographical details of an author in fiction stories? James Joyce stories, such as A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man and Ulysses, are examples where literary critics see the novels as semi-autobiographical of the author's life. There's also F. Scott Fitzgerald's first novel This Side of Paradise. I often wonder what good it does critics (or readers, for that matter) to analyze fiction stories for such autobiographical details. Yes, all fiction writers inevitably include parts of themselves in each of their stories (no matter how insignificant); yet, how does searching for such details enhance the meaning of the story at all? Are such searches even meant to accomplish better understanding of a story and theme?

[dhunt]

Dear Jerry,
This is really a question for critics, but it's one that everybody who reads or writes gets into at some point or other. I remember in graduate school I was such a purist, I'd get adamant about refusing to take into account anything about a writer's life in analyzing or discussing his work. It was off limits; critics, I felt, had no right to such invasive probing. I was convinced that The Work alone was appropriate for criticism, never the writer. I still feel that way, though far less adamantly.

In my Tolkien infatuation, I too read Shippey and whatever else I could--and it was for the reasons you cite--after all, I was in love, and one wants to know every detail about one's beloved. The much-batted-around question of Catholicism's influence on Tolkien has been batted to death, frankly. And I've settled on his own response to that question as a response to the more general and even-more-batted-about question of what constitutes "Catholic literature." He said that Lord of the Rings is Catholic because it is a product of a Catholic mind. Just so.

To write fiction is to endeavor to tell truth. A Catholic writer must inevitably be influenced by his faith in that endeavor; the same is true for an atheist, actually.

But critics will always get into the writer as much as they do the work. That's what critics do. I went to a seminar on Flannery O'Conner once and I was horrified by what I heard--her religion, even her sex life, etc. It may be my southern upbringing or it may be just my own lack of sophistication, but I felt offended on behalf of the writer. I wanted to say something like, "How dare you!" But I also noted the competitiveness of critics. Much of what motivates some younger, ambitious academics has to do with the need to advance their career. I suppose we must criticize their behavior as gently as we can, but I can't help feeling that the involvement of a writer's life in a critique of his work *can* sometimes indicate a lack of capability in criticism.

Finally, however, I have to agree with your comment that the writer isn't the best judge of his work. It does "transcend" him, as you say, and once published, it's no longer his. It belongs to the critics. And they, whether the writer likes it or not, and as odd as it may sound, they do understand the work better than the writer does. They deserve to be heard. And it must be said, too, that, whether the writer likes it or not (and they don't!), they put a piece of their soul, naked and vulnerable, out there. Conclusions will be drawn.

[immortaldiamond]

I think there are excellent reasons both for and against learning about the author of a work. It can help you to understand the work, by seeing where the author is coming from. Sometimes, I think it can be very helpful, as in works of poetry where ideas are presented in an totally unfamiliar way. But then again, as humans I don't think we can completely separate the author from his work, and so the imperfect, fallen side of the author can influence our perception of his work in a negative way, though the work itself may be fantastic. So perhaps the solution is "all things in moderation"?

And as for the work being a part of the author--I'll let Tolkien speak for me:

"I am dreading the publication, for it will be impossible not to mind what is said. I have exposed my heart to be shot at."

[Bernardo]

This is a good discussion. The question of authorial intent is always interesting and often contentious, though it seems to me everyone here seems to be in broad agreement that the work has an integrity all its own, even if knowing about the author's personal life can have some benefits. What I really wanted to point out, though, is that I doubt what Katy meant in her article was that reviewers ought to pay attention to the author's personal life. I think what she meant is that a lot of critics are missing the fact that the work itself reflects a Catholic vision of reality precisely in the way it approaches the terrible suffering that the book depicts. What she is saying, I think, is that many are looking at the fact that the book depicts suffering and are interpreting it merely as "grim reportage" of cruel realities, while the book actually does more than that and challenges the reader to see these events as more than simply meaningless horror. Now, I haven't read the book myself yet, so I can't say, but my point is that I think what she's talking about is something that exists in the work itself, not something extraneous to it.

[firefolk]

Apparently when Lewis' "Out of the Silent Planet" came out, there were about sixty reviews and only two of them showed evidence of grasping that there was a deeper level of thought going on in the book than just page-turning sci-fi (or, er, scientifiction as I guess they called it back then). I think D has a point about critics turning to the author's life because it spares them actually thinking about the book itself, and frankly I suspect that most critics have about one year of solid work in them and then their brains give out under the constant barrage of tepid books they're forced to read, and they start saying everything is either "Important" or "Gripping" or "A tour de force" and calling it a day. Call me cynical (but don't call me Shirley). I actually wish there were some way to get people to read a book without knowing anything at all about the writer or the content of the work beforehand, so they could form their own impressions--and then afterwards, by all means, compare notes with others. But it's a little tiring that you can't pick up a book by--I dunno--Dick Francis, let's say, without already knowing, "Welp, here's another horse racing mystery." At the end of the day, and I know this is simplistic but sometimes that's the quickest route to the heart of the matter, people will get out of a book what they put into it. If you bring a hatred of the Catholic faith to a book informed by the Catholic faith and find yourself enjoying it nonetheless, we know in advance that there's one thing to which you're NOT going to attribute that enjoyment.

[jerry]

Great comments by everyone. Bernardo, I'll first address your post. You present a fine distinction between what I had to say to what Katy Carl wrote, and after some thought, convinced me that was Katy Carl's intention. She explains further on in the review how the narratives of three of the stories express the Catholic influence without it being necessary to know the author's religious beliefs. Firefolk makes a good point, too, when he says "people will get out of the book what they put into it." It's no surprise, then, the New York Times says Uwen Akpan's book is "grim reportage." The problem is, if you're eyes aren't open to a specific influence, you may not sense it's even there.

I'm going to throw a new idea into the conversation. I was recently told by a writer friend that it helps to find your narrative voice by imagining writing to someone specific. It gives you a license to write without restraint. What if the author was writing a story for a specific audience? It's not difficult to imagine a writer penning a story with Dappled Things in mind, which probably has a predominately Catholic readership. In fact, don't all writers have a particular readership in mind for whatever they write? It may be that, if we discover what the readership is and read the story how we might anticipate that readership would, then we can begin to unearth the author's intentions within the story without having to know the author's background. The question is, how can readership be ascertained? Is it important?

[dhunt]

"Catholic Voice" sounds like someone's dissertation topic in the making. An examination of major Catholic fiction writers.

Re Jerry's idea that writers find their "narrative voice by imagining writing to someone specific.... In fact, don't all writers have a particular readership in mind for whatever they write? It may be that, if we discover what the readership is and read the story how we might anticipate that readership would, then we can begin to unearth the author's intentions within the story without having to know the author's background. The question is, how can readership be ascertained? Is it important?"

I think I'd have to say both yes and no, from my limited experience. I do not have an audience in mind when I write. Yes, I definitely should. I have nothing whatever in mind when I write except the story; I am lost in it. (Not an overstatement). It's only when an editor points out something or other that I see I've forgotten audience. One should never forget audience, not for a moment.

Katy's comments are intelligent, but, as you (and Firefolk) suggest, "people will get out of the book what they put into it." Just as I believe that a Catholic writer necessarily writes from a Catholic perspective, so a Catholic reader perceives a Catholic voice because he has a Catholic ear--maybe?

[firefolk]

I've always been wary about writing advice. I'm sure there are plenty of excellent writers who write with a specific audience in mind. I'm sure there are plenty of excellent writers who don't. At the end of the day, you've got to find a technique that works for you and roll with it. If imagining an audience helps, then by all means do so. I can't say I've ever been able to do that myself. I guess I just sort of assume I'm writing for that one person out there who will understand exactly what I'm trying to say and get all my jokes and references and everything; and then sometimes I'll go back afterwards and try to clarify a little bit for everyone else's sake. But really, saying that a writer must always do this or that is like asking, what is the best move in chess? Well--it depends on what pieces are on the board.

[mbees]

Hi. Please forgive me for posting this request on this forum, but not quite sure where it should go otherwise. I'm looking for a script for "The Jeweler's Shop" by Pope John Paul II. Does anyone know where I can purchase one? Our church is looking to put this play on for our congregation. Thanks everyone. Mbees

[bluemaydie]

I found it on amazon.com. The author is listed as Karol Wojtyla, not JPII, if that helps.

[bluemaydie]

Also, there's no actiona nd very little interaction in this play. Be warned, if no one's committed to it yet: it can be deadly dull. Are you just looking for a Catholic play, or one on a specific theme? There might be other choices out there.