squeequeg: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] sigerson recently loaned me Interpretation and Overinterpretation, a collection of lectures by Umberto Eco and other notable scholars. It's well worth a read; while I find myself agreeing with Eco overall, the other lectures all bring up very good arguments in defense of both overinterpretation and limited interpretation (even the one by Richard Rorty, who is a little full of himself in the same way that the ocean has some water in it).

One of Eco's points ([livejournal.com profile] sigerson, I'm paraphrasing wildly here; please tell me if I'm wrong) has to do with the privileging of hidden knowledge. This stems in part from the Hermetic and Gnostic traditions, which considered the "secret meaning" of a text to be more powerful the more hidden it was. Unlocking one secret only revealed a dozen more, and anything that could be stated plainly -- anything that could be stated, even -- was suspect and obviously hiding some new meaning.

As a result of reading these lectures, I went back and reread Little, Big by John Crowley. This is a very dense book. It's beautiful, powerful, and something that I will undoubtedly come back to many more times -- but I get very lost when reading it. This is a book for which I feel I need Cliff's Notes or heavy annotations; I can catch some of the allusions in structure, language, characters, and so on, but I keep getting the sense that there's even more to it, that because of my own ignorance I have missed some major meaning in the text. Thus even after multiple readings, I understand part of the story -- but I'm not sure I understand all of it. Or even if I'm capable of doing so.

On the one hand, it seems I'm falling into the overinterpretation trap Eco describes; each discovery only leads to more questions. On the other hand, I think this may be an integral part of the novel; the allusions are not there by accident, nor am I just seeing what I want to see in them.

And aside from all that, should this affect how I read the novel? Would I be happier not knowing the allusions are there?

What other novels (or movies, or other works) strike you in this way -- full of not-always-understood meaning, rich in allusions, puzzles for the careful reader? Do you ever get frustrated by them?
squeequeg: (Default)
Just got back from seeing Howl's Moving Castle with [livejournal.com profile] thomascantor. Briefly, spellbinding and beautiful, but with a flawed ending and some trouble midway through. )

We were seeing the dubbed version (forgot to check the times for the subtitled version), but it wasn't a bad dub. There were a few problems (as [livejournal.com profile] thomascantor put it, times when the characters were speaking breathlessly in order to get their entire line in), but on the whole it seemed pretty good. I'm curious as to what the subtitled version would be like. Also, I would now pay just to hear Christian Bale talk. Mmm.
squeequeg: (Default)
I don't have Freud's essay on the uncanny (in German "unheimlich," literally "unhomely") with me any more, but it's stayed with me ever since I read it in my cyborgs and postmodernism class. One of the things that he cites as triggering the feeling of uncanniness is sameness. Seeing the same number crop up over and over again, for example, or hearing the same phrase in three different conversations, continually getting tails when you flip a coin, etc. I don't remember his reasons for why this is so uncanny, but I think it has to do with a sudden feeling of unreality. Reality has lumps; reality is random; and when something that looks like a pattern emerges, it can jolt us into wondering if we're perceiving reality correctly.

The reason I bring this up is that uncanny moments are a staple of much science fiction, especially reality-blurring work. The hero of a story realizes that something's off when the same thing happens over again, or when deja vu occurs, or when different people have the exact same response to something. It's used as a signifier that something's gone wrong. In some stories, I seem to remember that repetition like this was a sign that reality was actually virtual reality; the computer couldn't produce enough differences to mimic real life. I've considered using a trope like that in some stories, e.g. having the protagonist realize that he's passed the same person on each street corner for the last ten blocks.

And then today I went into a T station in which every ad was for the same company, entered a T car in which every ad was for the same new series, and emerged into another stop in which every ad was for the same product.

Sameness in that sense is no longer as uncanny. In the same way that a man apparently talking to himself now could be using a headset for his cell phone, technology and societal change has made the uncanny familiar.

It makes me wonder what other things I currently find uncanny will become normal in the next few decades.

---
In other news, I came out as Zoe in the Firefly character meme what's going around. I rock.

Profile

squeequeg: (Default)
squeequeg

May 2011

S M T W T F S
1234567
8910 11121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 18th, 2026 02:57 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios