PART 1 Jumping In 1 The Writer as Reader: Reading and Responding Learning Objectives When you've read this chapter, you should be able to >- appreciate the link between reading and writing about your reading; »- gather ideas and make inferences about your reading that will help you write about it; >- mark up a text to help you write about it; *- recognize the links between your own interpretation, the writer's purpose, and the responses of your audience; and >- see writing as a collaboration. Learning to write is in large measure learning to read. The text vou must read most carefully is the one vou write, an essay you will ask someone else to read. It may start as a jotting in the margin of a book you are reading or as a brief note in a journal, and it will go through several drafts before it becomes an essay. To produce something that another person will find worth reading, you yourself must read each draft with care, trying to imagine the effect your words are likely to have on your reader. In writing about literature, you will apply some of the same critical skills to your reading; that is, you will examine your responses to what you are reading and will try to account for them. Let's begin by looking at a very short story- by Gilles Vigneault (1928- ). Vigneault was born in the village of Natashquan on the north shore of the St. Lawrence River. He has published two volumes of short-short stories, or as they are sometimes called, "postcard" stories. The title of the first collection is translated by Paul Allard as Tales on Tiptoe (Press Porcepic, 1972). The second collection, Contes du coin de I'oeil (which means "stories from the corner of the eye") has not yet been translated. This story is translated by Jacqueline de Puthod. The Walt, Gilles Vigneault A former mason, sentenced to twenty years' hard labour, was repairing with surprising care the exterior wall of his prison. He was, of course, closely guarded, and although the work was compulsory and under scrupulous surveillance, the taste for perfection he exhibited at it was a source of amazement to passers-bv and 3 4 Tl lli WRITER AS READER: READING AND RF.STONDING even to his two guards. Someone expressed his surprise, and the former mason, without lifting Iris eyes from his work, replied as if he had expected the question all along. "What pleasure would there be in escaping from a prison that was poorlv built?" Then, before the anxious prison guards who had become more watchful than ever, he went on as though talking to himself: "When you've put vour own hand to the making of a wall, it tells von more about human freedom than all the philosophers put together." This saying spread far and wide until it reached the ears of a monk. The monk came to visit the mason. They talked together at length. And the mason, without disturbing a soul, left the prison bv the main gate, wearing a habit and a rope belt. The prison director, a subtle man though he didn't show it, recently asked a professional burglar to repair a window sash. The work was so well done that one feels something is bound to happen, despite the formal order issued that day forbidding anvone to speak to a prisoner at work. READING AS RE-CREATION If we were Vigneault's fellow Quebecois, we would be very familiar with his poems and his songs, lyrics that made him the most popular chansonnter of the vital period of the "quiet revolution" in Quebec in the 1960s. Indeed, his song "Man pays nest-cepas un pays; c'est I'hiver" ("My country isn't a country; its the winter") became almost an anthem in Quebec during this period. But we are not Vigneault's original readers, and we are reading the story in translation, so inevitably we read "The Wall" in a somewhat different way. This difference gets us to an important point about writing and reading. A writer writes, sets forth his or her meaning, and attempts to guide the reader's responses, as we all do when we write a letter home saying that we are thinking of dropping a course or asking for money or trying to get a commitment. To this extent, the writer creates the written work and puts a meaning in it. The reader, whether reading as an assignment or for recreation, re-creates it according to his or her experience and understanding. For instance, if the letter-writer's appeal for money is indirect, the reader may miss it entirely or may sense it but feel that the need is not urgent. If, on the other hand, the appeal is direct or demanding, the reader may feel irritated or imposed upon, even assaulted. "Oh, but I didn't mean it that way," the writer later protests. Still, diats the way the reader took it. The letter is "out there," between the writer and the reader, but the meaning is something the reader, as well as the writer, makes. Since all readers bring themselves to a written work, they bring something individual. For instance, although man)' of Vigneault's original readers were familiar with the European folk tradition within which tales of this type fit, and people in Quebec were familiar with stories in which monks and priests play a role, thev must have varied in their attitudes to the memories and to the iconographic figures that populate this story. For younger Quebecois, the story (then as now) seems old-fashioned. The monk who visits the prison is a type, not a real man. But to older readers, the monk might seem like the local parish priest, a man who played an important role in early Quebec social MAKING UEASONAIil.Ii INI liKKNCF.S history. Before they read a story' like this, many of today's readers do not know anything about the subject. For readers from the Prairies and the Pacific coast, in fact, it may seem to be set in a foreign land. Prisons are imagined from television depictions, and the}' are much more violent and much less personal than this cozy jail. Inmates are more likely to be seen as gang leaders or violent criminals than as homelv philosophers. Moreover, even it a present-day reader in Hamilton, Burnaby, or St. John's knows something of Quebec folk history, he or she may assume that "The Wall" depicts a way of life still current; a reader from Quebec may see in the work a depiction of a lost way of life, a depiction of the good old days (or perhaps of the bad old days, depending on the reader's point of view). Much depends, we can say, on the reader's storehouse of experience. To repeat: Our reading is a re-creation; the author has tried to guide our responses, but inevitably our own experiences, including our ethnic background and our education, contribute to our responses. You may find useful a distinction that E. D. Hirsch makes in Validity in Inteiyretation (1967). For Hirsch, the meaning in a text is the author's intended meaning; the significance is the particular relevance for each reader. In this view, when you think about meaning you are thinking about what the author was trying to say and to do—for instance, to take an old theme and treat it in a new way. When vou think about significance, you are thinking about what the work does for you—enlarges your mind, offends you by its depiction of women, resonates with images with which you are familiar as a Canadian, or whatever. MAKING REASONABLE INFERENCES If when we read and especially when we talk of significance we are re-creating, is there reallv no use in talking (or in writing) about literature since all of us perceive it in our relatively private ways, rather like the seven blind men in the fable? One man, you will recall, touched the elephant's tail (or was it his trunk?) and said that the elephant is like a snake; another touched the elephant's side and said the elephant is like a wall; a third touched the elephants leg and said the elephant is like a tree; and so on. Notice that each of the blind men did perceive an aspect of the elephant—an elephant is massive, like a wall or a tree, and an elephant is (in its way) remarkably supple, as you know if you have given peanuts to one. As readers, we can and should make an effort to understand what the author seems to be getting at; that is, we should make an effort to understand the words in their context. We shouldn't look up every word we don't know, at least on the first reading, but if certain unfamiliar words arc repeated and thus seem especially important, we will probably want to look them up. (And if we are later writing about the text we will need to look up all words that we don't already know.) It happens that in "The Wall" the word inason appears: The word names a skilled worker who builds in stone or a related material, like brick or concrete. This word is crucial, but the context probably makes it (j THE WH1TEK AS RKADKK: RKADING AND KBSPONDING clear. Had anv reader thought the word referred to a member of the Freemasons' Lodge, for example, he or she would quicklv realize that Vigneault is using it in its original meaning. The point is this: The writer is pitching, and lie expects the reader to catch. A reader who does not know that a monks habit (or costume) is traditionally belted with a humble rope, for instance, will miss the subtlety of the escape plan. Although writers tell us a good deal, they do not tell us everything. We know that the prison director is a subtle man, but we don't know exactly what he plans by allowing a burglar to repair a window. Further, Vigneault tells us nothing oi the monk's reason for participating in the escape—or whether he does so willingly. It rather sounds as though the mason convinces the monk to assist him by his philosophical musings, but readers mav disagree. One reader may argue that the monk is impressed by this clever mason and thinks he deserves to be free; another may say that the monk comes to accept a new understanding of freedom and chooses to remain in the prison as a hermit. In short, a text includes indeterminacies (passages that careful readers agree are open to various interpretations) and gaps (things left unsaid in the story, such as why the mason is in prison in the first place). As we work our way through a text, we keep re-evaluating what we have read, pulling the details together to make sense of them in a process called consistency building. Whatever the gaps, careful readers are able to draw many reasonable inferences about the mason. We can list some of them: • He works with "surprising care" even though he has been sentenced to twenty vears' punishment. • lie has a taste (or "perfection." • He seems to accept a challenge: "what pleasure would there be in escaping" if it is easy? • Given this last point, he is patient and thorough. • He is able to see that his own "hand" is involved in his imprisonment and in his freedom and sees this personal truth as more profound than any philosophy. You may at this point want to go back and reread "The Wall" to see what else you can say about the mason. And now, what of the monk, or the director, or the burglar? At this point you may want to make a list like the one for the mason for each of these characters. READING WITH A PEN IN HAND Perhaps the best way to read attentively is to mark the text, underlining or highlighting passages that seem especially interesting, and to jot notes or queries in the margins. Here is the work once more, this time with the marks that a student added after a second reading. RECORDING YOUR FIRST IMPRESSIONS 7 Odd line "we Ml I- ^ The Wall Gillcs Vigneault A former mason, sentenced to twenty years' hard labour, wasfrepamnj?)with(surprisjng)care the exterior wall of his why Surprise? prison. He was, of cprfrse^eloselv guarded, and although the work wHs compulsory andNjnder(^rupulous surveiP) check this (Jance^) the tastayrorperfection hK exhibited at it was a source of (junaz^ent)to passers-by\nd even to his two [j^rds.Usomeorie) expressed liis(su^mse7)and the former. repeats mason, without liftingNjis eves from his work, replied(^js_[F (h^éhad expected the question all alo~ngT)''What pleasure contrast between would there be in escanínk trom a prison that was poorlv WflSflrt and Guard built?" Then, before the Anxious^prison guards who had become more watchful man ever, lus went on although talk- wpOrtaftt? ing_to himself: "Wlifcn you've putYour own hand to the WCr^s ^0r ^s making of a wall, it/tells you more about human freedom beliete? than^ltheÄsg^puttogetherX. ^ ^- ^ tins sa\an^; spread tar ;inr1 wiHp nrml iť rpMrnpH Hip r . . . » ears of a(monkT)The monk came to visit t talked together at length. And the mason, wi echo, like AM out disturb- IS prisoner relljlOuS ing a(souI?)left the prison by the main gate, wearing a habit M S0yv\e Idaij? Or anda rope belt. \ a p'nilOSOpker? The prison director, a subtle man though heylidn't show it, recently asked a professional burglar to(rej window sash. The work was so well done that one something is bound to happen, despite the formaT\>rder Compost description, 0-f "■fomer wason" 3d that dav forbidding anyone to speak to a prisoner at work. has the lesson been learned? yJho? reader? nawxW RECORDING YOUR FIRST IMPRESSIONS After you annotate vour text, another useful way of getting at meanings is to write down your initial responses to the story, jotting down your impressions as they come to you in any order—almost as though you are talking to yourself. Since no one else is going to read your notes, vou can he entirely free and at ease. You can write in sentences or not; it's up to you. Write whatever comes into your mind, whatever the story triggers in your own imagination, whatever rings true or reminds you of your own experiences. Here is the response of the student who annotated the text. I like the way the burglar seems to be duplicating the mason's action. And I like the way the prison director seems to know what is going on and tries, on the one THE WR1TKK AS READF.R: KKADING AND RESPONDING hand, to prevent it by "forbidding anyone to talk to a prisoner at work" but, on the other hand, may cause it to happen again when he "asks" a burglar to work on another escape route. I like the mason's attitude to doing his best work and his idea that success is only sweet if earned. I can see these people even though there is so little personal description. I'd like to meet this mason after he leaves prison and ask him what his "freedom" feels like. ere is another student's first response to "The Wall." This is a very short story. I didn't know stories were this short, but I like it because you can get it all quickly and it's no trouble to reread it carefully. The shortness, though, leaves a lot of gaps for the reader to fill in. So much is not said. Your imagination is put to work. But I can see the mason working at his wall--quietly powerful and precise--no one you would want to argue with. He's formal and distant and asks serious questions. He seems to be building a wall to give himself satisfaction in a job well done, but maybe he's just planning his escape. Maybe he only says these clever things in order to attract the monk to visit, not because he really means them. Maybe he is clever in a different way; he plots to appear philosophical just so he can trap the guards and the monk. Maybe I can develop this idea. Another thing. I can see that these people are in a prison but it isn't full of serious criminals. It seems more like a small town, or a club. The prisoners are at "hard labour" but they work at their professions. The thief is a "professional burglar," but the mason seems to be more a professional craftsman. This contrast might be important to what the story is saying, or what the prison director is planning. But I don't know enough about this kind of old-fashioned prison to go into this. Their life is different from mine; no one I know is a burglar and no one I know is this patient! A WRITING ASSIGNMENT ON 'THE WALL' 9 AUDIENCE AND PURPOSE Suppose you are beginning the process of writing about "The Wall" for someone else, not for yourself. The first question to ask yourself is: For whom am I writing? In other words, Who is my audience? (Of course, von probably are writing because an instructor has asked you to do so, but you still must imagine an audience. Your instructor may tell you, for instance, to write for your classmates or for the readers of the college newspaper.) If you are writing with people who are familiar with some of Vigneaults other work, vou will not have to say much about the author; certainly if you are writing in Quebec you won't. If you are writing for an audience that is interested in the tradition of the folk tale in Quebec (or comparing it to the strong folk-loric tradition of the Maritimes), you may want to mention stories bv, sav, Jacques Ferron or Roch Carrier. In a sense, as we said at the outset, the audience is your collaborator; your reader helps you decide what you will say. You are helped also by your sense of purf)ose. If your aim is to introduce, readers to Vigneault, you will make certain points. If your aim is to tell people what you think "The Wall" means about freedom, or the human sense of accomplishment, vou will sav different things. If your aim is to have a little fun and to entertain an audience that is familiar with "The Wall," vou mav write a parody (a humorous imitation). If you are working from a particular critical perspective, you will select details that develop that approach. A WORD ON DISCOURSE Writers have always known that audience and purpose are important to the pre-writing process. Todav, in Canada, writers are interested in the relationships among audience, purpose, and the style of writing they adopt (even the genre thev employ). Discourse Theory and what is called "The New Rhetoric" argue that the interplay among writer, reader, and stvle of writing helps to create genres that can then be repeated. Further, these theories suggest that such repetition is part of social process and that genre is part of a complex social construction in which literature (and related forms) play an important role. (See the discussion of cultural materialism in Chapter 5.) These ideas suggest just how important it is to think carefully about who will read your text and whv vou want to write it. A WRITING ASSIGNMENT ON "THE WALL" The Assignment Let's assume that you are trying to describe "The Wall" to someone who has not read it. You probably will briefly summarize the action, such as it is, will mention where it takes place and who the characters are (including their 1 () Tl IE WKIIKR AS READER: READING AND RESP( )ND1NG relationships), and what, if anything, happens to them. Beyond that, you will probably try to explain as honestly as you can what makes "The Wall" appealing or interesting or boring or whatever. Here is an essay that a student wrote for this assignment. A Sample Essay Finding Freedom Gilles Vigneault's "The Wall" describes an escape from prison. This escape is not a daring breakout, nor is it the real reason Vigneault is writing. Instead, the story asks the reader to consider what freedom really means and how we can become free in ourselves. A mason is sent to prison; we don't know why. He is set to work by the Warden to build a wall which he does with surprising care because there would be "no pleasure [. . . ] in escaping from a prison that was poorly built." He also comments that building a strong wall makes him think about freedom and what it means. These sayings --which seem to define his pride in his craft and also his challenge to the authorities--become famous. A monk visits. We don't know what the men discuss, but the monk either allows the mason to borrow his habit as a disguise, or the mason takes it from him and escapes. Since Vigneault notes that the mason leaves "without disturbing a soul," it seems that the monk agrees to the switch. Later, in a strange decision, the Warden puts a thief to work repairing a window. Is the Warden setting up another escape? Or is he encouraging the "professional burglar" to ponder the nature of freedom and his role in making himself free? The story is comic, in an understated way, but it asks important questions. The mason committed some crime, so he must accept a role in his own imprisonment. At the same time, he is free within himself even in jail, because he has pride in his own accomplishment. That sense of self-worth seems to convince the monk that the mason deserves to be physically free because he is already psychologically free. Perhaps the monk decides that committing himself to jail will allow him to free himself mentally or spiritually (as hermits tried to do in medieval times). The burglar, in turn, is challenged A WRITING ASSIGNMENT ON "Tl IF. WALL" 1 1 to determine whether his pride lies in being a "professional" criminal, or in being sure enough of himself to make good his escape. The Warden is, indeed, a "subtle man." These are questions which we are forced to ask ourselves because the author gives us so little plot and no real answers. Because so much is left to us to fill in, the reader is invited to face important questions in a very intimate way. Other Possibilities for Writing Of course, one might write a paper of a very different sort. Consider the following possibilities: 1. Write a sequel, describing what happens to the burglar. Or describe the mason's life outside prison. 2. Write a letter from the monk to the mason, or to the prison director. 3. Imagine that the monk is now an old man, writing his memoirs. What does he say about the mason and their secret conversation? 4. Write a narrative based on vour own sense of what freedom means and how you have obtained it, or how you hope1 to become free in your life. 5. Write an expository essay about ireedom in another country from which you came to Canada; how is freedom different here? 6. Write an expository essay considering how reading this story and writing about it may make someone rethink his or her own freedom. Will the act of writing change this person? (This is an essay related to Discourse Theory.) 03 Suggestions for Further Reading Aviva Freedman and Peter Medway, Genre and the New Rhetoric (1994), especially Carolyn R. Miller's essays, "Genre as Social Action" (23-42) and "Rhetorical Community: The Cultural Rasis of Genre" (67-78) and Richard Coe's essay, "An Arousing and Fulfilment of Desires': The Rhetoric of Genre in the Process Era—and Beyond" (181-90). 2 The Reader as Writer: Drafting and Writing Learning Objectives When you've read this chapter, you should be able to >• use various pre-writing techniques to help you begin to write, in order to find a thesis; consider keeping a journal to help you generate ideas, in order to find a thesis; *■ understand the concept of thesis and how to write a thesis; s> outline a draft; *- help yourself and your colleagues through peer review; and revise your first draft into a more exact and polished essay. PRE-WRITING: GETTING IDEAS How does one "learn to have ideas"? Try reading with a pencil or a set of coloured highlighters in hand so that (as we have already seen) you can annotate the text, or keep a journal in which you jot down reflections about your reading, or talk with others about the reading. Let's take another look at the first method, annotating. Annotating a Text In reading, if you own the book do not hesitate to mark it up, indicating (by highlighting or underlining, or by marginal notes) what puzzles you, what pleases or interests you, and what displeases or bores you. Of course, later you'll want to think further about these responses, asking yourself if, on rereading, you still feel this way, and if not, why not, but these first responses will get you started. Annotations of the sort given on page 15, which chiefly call attention to contrasts, indicate that the student is thinking about writing some sort of analysis of the story. An analysis is an essay in which the parts are examined to see how they relate to each other or in which a part is examined to see how it relates to the whole. Later on, while rereading, you may be able to annotate more fully. One method is to choose a different colour of marker for 12 in-SK-WRITING: GETTING IDEAS 1 3 different aspects you notice. Then, when vou go back o\'er the text you quickly see repetitions and patterns, and you can quickly find examples. More about Getting Ideas: "Marrying the Hangman" by Margaret Atwood Let's look at a story that is a little longer than "The Wall," and then we'll discuss how, in addition to annotating, one might get ideas for writing about it. Marrying the Hangman Margaret Atwood She has been condemned to death by hanging. A man may escape this death bv becoming the hangman, a woman by marrying the hangman. But at the present time there is no hangman; thus there is no escape. There is only a death, indefinitely postponed. This is not fantasy it is history. To live in prison is to live without mirrors. To live without mirrors is to live without the self. She is living selflessly, she finds a hole in the stone wall and on the other side of the wall, a voice. The voice comes through darkness and has no face. This voice becomes her mirror. In order to avoid her death, her particular death, with wrung neck and swollen tongue, she must many the hangman. But there is no hangman, first she must create him, she must persuade this man at the end of the voice, this voice she has never seen and which has never seen her, this darkness, she must persuade him to renounce his face, exchange it for the impersonal mask of death, of official death which has eyes but no mouth, this mask of a dark leper. She must transform his hands so thev will be willing to twist the rope around throats that have been singled out as hers was, throats other than hers. She must marry the hangman or no one, but that is not so bad. Who else is there to many? You wonder about her crime. She was condemned to death for stealing clothes from her employer, from the wife of her employer. She wished to make herself more beautiful. This desire in servants was not legal. She uses her voice like a hand, her voice reaches through the wall, stroking and touching. What could she possibly have said that would convince him? He was not condemned to death, freedom awaited him. What was the temptation, the one that worked? Perhaps he wanted to live with a woman whose life he had saved, who had seen down into the earth but had nevertheless followed him back up to life. It was his only chance to be a hero, to one person at least, for the others would now despise him. He was in prison for wounding another man, on one finger of the right hand, with a sword. This too is history. My friends, who are both women, tell me their stories, which cannot be believed and which are true. They are horror stories and they have not happened to me, they have not yet happened to me, they have happened to me but we are detached, we watch our unbelief with horror. Such things cannot happen to us, it is afternoon and these things do not happen in the afternoon. The trouble was, she said, I didn't have time to put my glasses on and without 14 TUB READER AS WRITER: DRAFTING AND WRITING them I'm blind as a bat, I couldn't even see who it was. These things happen and we sit at a table and tell stories about them so we can finally believe. This is not fantasy, it is historv, there is more than one hangman and because of this some of them are unemployed. He said: the end of walls, the end of ropes, the opening of doors, a field, the wind, a house, the sun, a table, an apple. She said: nipple, arms, lips, wine, bellv, hair, bread, thighs, eves, eyes. They both kept their promises. The hangman is not such a bad fellow. Afterwards he goes to the refrigerator and cleans up the leftovers, though he does not wipe up what he accidentally spills. He wants only the simple things: a chair, someone to pull off his shoes, someone to watch him while he talks, with admiration and fear, gratitude if possible, someone in whom to plunge himself for rest and renewal. These things can best be had by marrving a woman who has been condemned to death bv other men for wishing to be beautiful. There is a wide choice. Everyone said he was a Fool. Everyone said she was a clever woman. Thev used the word ensnare. What did they sav the first time they were alone together in the same room? What did he sav when she had removed her veil and he could see that she was not a voice but a body and therefore finite? What did she say when she discovered that she had left one locked room for another? They talked of love, naturally, though that did not keep them busy forever. The fact is there are no stories I can tell my friends that will make them feel better. History cannot be erased, although we can soothe ourselves by speculating about it. At that time there were no female hangmen. Perhaps there have never been any and thus no man could save his life by marriage. Though a woman could, according to the law. He said: foot, boot, order, citv, fist, roads, time, knife. She said: water, night, willow, rope hair, earth, belly, cave, meat, shroud, open, blood. They both kept their promises. "After 29 April 1752, all trace of him and his wife is lost." ("Corolere, |ean," The Dictionary of Canadian Biography, \ol. 3). Brainstorming for Ideas for Writing Unlike annotating, which consists of making brief notes and small marks on the printed page, brainstorming—the free jotting down of ideas—requires that you jot down whatever comes to mind, without inhibition. Don't worry about spelling, about writing complete sentences, or about unifying your thoughts; PRF.-WRITING: GETTING 1DFAS 15 just let one thought lead to another. Later, you will review vour jottings, deleting some, connecting with arrows others that are related, amplifying still others. For now, you want to get going, and so there is no reason to look back. Thus, vou might jot down something about the title: Title--marriage and a hangman. Weird to put the two together. And then, perhaps prompted by "marriage," you might happen to add something to this effect: Is this history true? Could a woman save herself this way? What does that say about the institution of marriage? Your next jotting might have little or nothing to do with this issue; it might simply sav: Enjoyed "Marrying" more than "The Wall" partly because "Marrying" is so shocking. And then you might ask yourself: By shocking, do I mean "improbable," or what? Come to think of it, maybe it's not so improbable. A lot depends on what the marriage was like. Focused Free Writing Focused free writing, or directed free writing, is a related method that some writers use to uncover ideas they want to write about. Concentrating on one issue, such as a question that strikes them as worth puzzling over (What kind of person is this woman?), they write at length, non-stop, for perhaps five or ten minutes. They don't pause, or think: they just write. Writers who find free writing helpful put down everything that has bearing on the one issue or question the}' are examining. They do not stop at this stage to evaluate the results, and they do not wony about grammar or spelling. Thev just explore ideas in a steady stream of writing, using whatever associations come to mind. (Fiction is sometimes written in stream of consciousness, but this is not, as it may appear, free writing. An author has carefully crafted the work to resemble spontaneous association.) After the free-writing session, these writers usually go back and reread what they have written, highlighting or underlining what seems to be of value. Of course, they find much that is of little or no use, but they also usually find that some strong ideas have surfaced and have received some development. At this point, the writers are often able to make a scratch outline and then begin a draft. Some writers look for a central idea in what they've written, repeat it as the first sentence of a new paragraph, and then free write again. This is called "looping," and it sometimes helps to refine general ideas down into specific ones that lead to an essay. 16 Till-: RFADFR AS WRITER: DRAFTING AND WRITING Here is an example of one student's focused free writing: What do I know about the woman prisoner? What can I figure out from what Atwood tells me? When she finds herself in prison she has no mirror. This woman was "condemned to death for stealing clothes," for wanting to be beautiful. So she talks to the voice through the wall and he becomes her mirror. Is that good? She perceives that she has to "create" a hangman in order to marry him in order to escape her "particular death" which she describes as pretty gruesome. To do so is to surrender her power to him even though she's created him in some way. So it's a power issue but it's also a feminist one. When she makes him she must accept him sexually and watch him "with admiration and fear." A woman has to accept these things from a man if she needs him for his power or if she can only "see" herself in a mirror that is him. Why can't she see herself for herself? To do so would mean she was hanged. Is this the connection with the narrator's friends and their stories? I wonder what these friends are telling. They are horror stories. Are they about having no power? Are these women talking together? Listing In your preliminary thinking, you may find it useful to make lists. In the previous chapter, we saw that listing the traits of characters was helpful in thinking about Vigneault's "The Wall." For "Marrying," you might list the woman's traits, or you might list the stages in her story. (Such a list is not the same as a summary of the plot. The list helps the writer see the sequence of psychological changes.) She is living "selflessly" ("condemned to death" "indefinitely postponed") lives alone--comes to use voice as mirror "Who else is there to marry?" "She uses her voice like a hand [. . .] stroking and touching." He says words that signal freedom and domestic life She says words that signal sexuality and domestic life "They both kept their promises" " [ . . . ] she had left one locked room for another" "History cannot be erased" PREAVRITING: GETTING IDEAS 1 7 His words change to words of domination and pain--"fist, boot, knife" Her words describe woman's concerns and cycles--"water, open, blood" No trace of them exists--she disappears into a historical note. Of course, unlike brainstorming and annotating, which let vou go in all directions, listing requires that you first make a decision about what you will be listing—traits of character, images, puns, or whatever. Once you make the decision, you can then construct the list, and, with a list in front of vou, vou will probably see patterns that vou were not fully conscious of earlier. Asking Questions If you feel stuck, ask yourself questions. (You'll recall that the assignment on "The Wall" asked you to ask yourself questions about the work—for instance, a question about the relationship between the characters—and about vour responses to it: "You will probably try to explain as honestly as you can what makes 'The Wall' appealing or interesting or boring or whatever.") If you are thinking about a work of fiction, ask yourself questions about the plot, any subplot, and the characters: Are they believable? Are they interesting? What does it all add up to? What does the story mean to 1/011? (The chapters on the essay, fiction, drama, poetry, and film include questions on each form.) One student found it helpful to jot down the following questions: Plot Ending satisfying? What is the relationship of the stories of the friends to the history? Character Is the woman unfeeling? Immoral? Is she a "clever woman?" Does she "ensnare?" What might her marriage have been like? No details. (Can we tell what her husband was like?) And yet they "both kept their promises" Symbolism Cut with stories from present day. Do the words from the historical relationship suggest something to the women telling their contemporary "horror" stories? You don't have to be as tidy as this student is. You may begin by jotting down notes and queries about what you like or dislike and about what puzzles or amuses you. What follows are the jottings of another student, Amy Wong. They are, obviously, in no particular order—the student is brainstorming, putting down whatever occurs to her—though it is equally obvious that one note sometimes led to the next: 18 THK READER AS WRITER: DRAETING AND WRITING Title sums up the whole story. Too much? What might be a better title? Could a woman be so calculating? Is she heartless? Did she love him? Why does he agree to her plan? Why wasn't she allowed to be beautiful? Because she was a servant? Are all women servants? Could this story happen today? Feminist interpretation? Tricky ending — but maybe it shouldn't end with realistic details. What happens when couples stop talking about love--"that did not keep them busy forever"? Irony: her imprisonment repeats itself. She trades one "locked room" for another. These jottings will help the reader-writer think about the story, find a special point of interest, and develop a thoughtful argument about it. Keeping a Journal A journal is not a diary, a record of what the writer did during the day ("today I read Atvvood's 'Marrying.' Weather damp."). Rather, a journal is a place to store some of the thoughts you may have inscribed on a scrap of paper or in the margin of the text, such as your initial response to the title of a work or to the ending. It is also a place to jot down further reflections, such as thoughts about what the work means to you, and what was said in the classroom about writing in general or specific works. You will get something out of your journal if you write an entry at least once a week, but you will get much more if you write entries after reading each assignment and after each class meeting. You may for instance, want to reflect on why vour opinion is so different from that of another student, or you may want to apply a concept such as character or irony or "plausibility" to a story that you may later write about in an essay. Comparisons are especially helpful: How does this work (or this character, or this rhyme scheme) differ from last week's reading? You might even make an entry in the form of a letter to the author or from one character to another. You might write a dialogue between characters in two works or between two authors, or you might record an experience of your own that is comparable to something in the work. A student who wrote about "Marrying the Hangman" began with the following entry in his journal. In reading this entry, notice that one idea stimulates another. The student was, quite rightly, concerned with getting and exploring ideas, not with writing a unified paragraph. Seems clever rather than real, not plausible. The woman's decision is so businesslike--maybe some women might respond like this, but probably not most. PRE-WRITING: GETTING IDEAS 19 Does literature deal with unusual people, or with typical people? Shouldn't it deal with typical? Maybe not. (Anyway, how can I know?) Is "typical" same as "plausible"? prob. not. Anyway, whether this woman is typical or not, could she talk the guy into becoming a hangman? Think more about this. Husband dominated her life but he wanted a decent life and he "is not such a bad fellow." Is it a crime to want a partner to admire you? I guess he just couldn't see how he denied her a private space. Do men allow women space today? Is this why the friends have horror stories to tell? Critical Thinking: Arguing with Yourself In our discussion of annotating, brainstorming, free writing, listing, asking questions, and writing entries in a journal, the emphasis has been on responding freely rather than in any highly systematic or disciplined way. Something strikes you (perhaps an idea, perhaps an uncertainty), and you jot it down. Maybe even before you finish jotting it down you begin to question it, but probably not; at this early stage it is enough to put down on paper some thoughts, rooted in your first responses, and to keep going on. The almost random play of mind that is evident in brainstorming and in the other activities already discussed is of course a kind of thinking, but the term critical thinking is reserved for something different. When you think critically, you sceptically scrutinize your own ideas, lor example by searching out your underlying assumptions, or by evaluating what you have quickly jotted down as evidence. We have already seen some examples of this sort of analysis of our own thinking in the journal entries, where, for instance, a student wrote that literature should probably deal with "typical" people, and then wondered if "typical" and "plausible" were the same, and then added "prob[ably] not." Speaking broadly, critical thinking is rational, logical thinking. In thinking critically, • you scrutinize your assumptions, and • you test the evidence you have collected, even to the extent of looking for counterevidence. Let's start with assumptions. If, for instance, I say that a story is weak because it is improbable, I ought at least to think about my assumption that improbability is a fault. I can begin by asking myself if all good stories—or all of the stories that I value highly—are probable. I may recall that among my favourites is Star Wars (or Gulliver's Travels or Animal Farm)—and so I probably have to withdraw my assumption that improbability in itself makes a story less than good. I may of course go on to refine the idea, and decide that improbability is not a fault in science fiction, or in satiric stories, but is a fault 20 Tl IK READER AS WRITER: DRAFTING AND WRITING in other kinds, but that is not the same as saying bluntly that improbability is a fault. The other aspect of critical thinking that we have isolated—searching for eounterevidenee within the literary work—especially involves rereading the work to see if we have overlooked material or have taken a particular detail out of context. If, for instance, we say that in "Marrying the Hangman" the condemned woman talks the man into marrying her, can we be sure he didn't want a domestic life himself all along? Or a job, even if it was as hangman? Perhaps the original observation will stand up, but perhaps on rereading the story we may come to feel, as we examine their actions and words, that both characters are unconsciously living out roles already prepared for them by "the law." Of course, different readers may come to different conclusions; the important thing is that all readers should subject their initial responses to critical thinking, testing their responses against all of the evidence. Remember: vour instructor probably expects you to hand in an essay that is essentially an argument, a paper that advances a thesis of your own. The thesis might be that the story is improbable, or is typical of Atwood, or uses history to illustrate contemporary feminist thinking. Whatever your thesis, it should be able to withstand scrutiny. You may not convince every reader that you are unquestionably right, but vou should make every reader feel that your argument is thoughtful. If you read your notes and then your drafts critically, you probably will write a paper that meets this standard. Just as your first jottings probably won't be the products of critical thinking, vour first reading of the literary work probably won't be a critical reading. It is entirely appropriate to begin by reading simply for enjoyment. After all, the reason we read literature (or, for example, listen to music) is to derive pleasure. It happens, however, that in this course you are trying to deepen your understanding of literature, and therefore you are studijing literature. On subsequent readings, therefore, you will read the work critically, taking careful note of (for instance) the writer's view of human nature, and of the writer's wavs of achieving certain effects. We will discuss critical thinking again, on pages 83-84, in talking about interpretations of literature. Arriving at a Thesis, and Arguing It If you think critically about your early jottings and about the literary work itself, you probably will find that some of your jottings lead to dead ends, but some will lead to further ideas that hold up under scrutiny. What the thesis of the essay will be—the idea that will be asserted and developed or argued (supported with evidence)—is still in doubt, but there is no doubt about one thing: A good essay will have a thesis, a point, an argument. You ought to be able to state your point in a thesis sentence. Note that a thesis is a. full sentence, not simply a subject waiting for a verb to complete it. When you have thought out the verb or verbs vou need, you will have determined what you want to develop. It is the process of creating a full and accurate thesis sentence that helps you organize the whole essay in your mind. PRE-WRIT1NG: GETTING IDEAS 2 1 Consider these candidates as possible thesis sentences: 1. The condemned woman convinces a man to marry her in order to live. True, but scarcely a point that can be argued or even developed. About the most the essayist can do with this sentence is amplify it by summarizing the plot of the story, a task not worth doing unless the plot is unusually obscure. An essay may include a sentence or two of summary to give readers their bearings, but a summary is not an essay. 2. The shift from history to the present makes the story universal. Here is a thesis. The writer will probably suggest that the sketchy details of the historical story illustrate the kinds of emotions and actions that govern men and women and that these can, therefore, serve as examples for the troubles of the modern women telling their "horror" stories. 3. The story is clever but contrived because it is based on an unreal character. Here, too, is a thesis, a point of view that can be argued. Whether this thesis is true is another matter. The writer's job will be to support it by presenting evidence. Probably the writer will have no difficulty in finding evidence1 that the story is "clever"; the difficulty probably will be in establishing a case that the characterization of the condemned woman is "unreal." The writer will have to set forth some ideas about what makes a character real and then will have to show that the woman is an "unreal" (unbelievable) figure. And the writer will have to deal with the historical footnote telling us that a woman like this one actually did live, though we don't know details of her biography. (See glossary entries for round and flat characters.) 4. The lack of detail of the ending is believable partly because it is a story about all women, not just this historical figure. It happens that the student who wrote the essay printed on pages 23-24 began by drafting an essay based on the third of these thesis topics, but as she worked on a draft she found that she could not support her assertion that the character was unconvincing. In fact, she came to believe that the woman summed up very believable characteristics of many women. So she shifted to the second thesis topic. In creating a final thesis, it is a good idea to remember the suggestion by the psychologist and educator, Jean Piaget, that a good thesis should have resonance or dissonance within it. That is, one part should establish a given against which the other part acts. Often this can be well expressed bv using a thesis in the form "Although a, then b," or "Despite a, b [ . . . ]," (dissonance), or "Given a, then b," or "Because of a, b [ . . . ] (resonance). Numbers 3 and 4 use the form "a because b," which is another version of the suggested model. Here are some examples. Notice that these put the topics into specific, thesis form: "Although the condemned woman in Margaret Atwood's 'Marrying the Hangman' convinces a man to marry her in order to live, she trades one prison for another." 22 THF. READER AS WRITER: DRAFTING AND WRITING "Although the woman in Margaret Atwood's 'Marrying the Hangman' seems unreal, the dilemma in which she finds herself is real for many women." "Because men and women have been taught how to act out their lives, they trap one another in emotional and legal prisons." "Despite the changes to women's legal status since 1752, the plight of the historical figure in Margaret Atwood's 'Marrying the Hangman' is real for women today." Remember: Your thesis needn't slavishly follow this exact formula; these examples show models of an approach to writing a good, dynamic thesis. Remember: It's not likely that you will quickly find a thesis. Annotating, making entries in a journal, and writing a first draft are ways of finding a thesis. WRITING A DRAFT After jotting down notes, and further notes stimulated bv rereading and further thinking, you probably will be able to formulate a tentative thesis. At this point, most writers find it useful to clear the air by glancing over their preliminary notes and by jotting down the thesis and a few especially promising notes—brief statements of what they think their key points may be, such as key quotations that may help support the thesis. Here are the selected notes (not the original brainstorming notes, but a later selection from them, with additions) and a draft that makes use of them: title? Prison for Women (?) Ironical Freedom (?) Ironies for Women (?) thesis: although the woman escapes hanging, ironically she continues a life in prison chief irony: woman can only get out by marrying and being subservient to a man other ironies: 1. desire "to make herself more beautiful" is her crime and is needed to capture him 2. woman can only "see" herself in him as a mirror 3. modern women hearing story are also trapped These notes are in effect a very brief outline. Some writers at this point like to develop a fuller outline, but probably most writers begin with only a brief outline, knowing that in the process of developing a draft from these few notes additional ideas will arise. For these writers, the time to jot down a detailed outline is after they have written a first or second draft. The outline of the written draft will, as we shall see, help them to make sure that their draft has an adequate organization, and that main points are developed. WRITING A DRAFT 23 A Sample Draft: "Ironies for Women" Now for the students draft—not the first version, but a revised draft with some of the irrelevaneies of the first draft omitted and some evidence added. The digits within the parentheses refer to the page numbers from which the quotations are drawn, though when writing about a short work page references are hardlv necessary. Check with vour instructor to find out if you must alwavs give citations. (Detailed information about how to document a paper is given in Chapter 15.) Ironies for Women After we know how Margaret Atwood's short story, "Marrying the Hangman," turns out, we find irony at the very start. The story is about a woman who has been condemned to hang because she stole some clothes, because she "wanted to make herself more beautiful" (50). She can only escape by marrying a hangman. So she must first convince a man in the next cell to become the hangman. Then he has to marry her. She does convince him and she is released from prison. An irony is that she discovers immediately that she has "left one locked room for another" (52). She is now his wife and she must obey him and keep his house. And she discovers that love "did not keep them busy forever" (52). Although he "is not such a bad fellow," and wants only a simple life, he also wants her to "watch him while he talks, with admiration and fear, gratitude if possible" (51) . A deeper irony is the fact that the woman's crime was wanting to be beautiful. Being beautiful was how she knew herself. It is ironic that she is condemned by the very things that made her clever enough to convince the man and to seduce him. Also, she has to give up her image of herself. She can no longer see her own beauty. She uses him as a mirror. In the prison she uses his voice through a hole in the wall to mirror back to her a sense of her identity. But when she is free, she must continue to use him as her mirror. If she resists, his words become harsh: "foot, boot," "fist," "knife" (52). This is her real imprisonment. The saddest irony in the story is the outer story. Some friends tell the narrator stories about abuse. If we are right that one speaker has been raped, it is horrible that she didn't have "time to put my glasses 24 THK RKADKR AS WRITKR: DRAFTING AND WRITING on" (50) so she couldn't see her attacker. She is like the woman speaking through the hole in the wall who was unable to see the man she had to marry. Atwood tells this ironic historical anecdote to point out the similarity to the contemporary women's lives. "These things happen" (51), she says. The irony is that history repeats itself. Work Cited Atwood, Margaret. "Marrying the Hangman." Two-Headed Poems. Toronto: Oxford UP, 1978. Revising a Draft The draft is not yet a finished essay. The student went on to improve it in many small but important ways. First, the draft needs a good paragraph that will let the audience—the readers—know where the writer will be taking them. (Chapter 14 discusses introductory paragraphs.) Doubtless you know, from your own experience as a reader, that readers can follow an argument more easily and with more pleasure if early in the discussion the writer alerts them to the gist of the argument. (The title, too, can strongly suggest the thesis.) Second, some of the paragraphs could be clearer. In revising paragraphs—or, for that matter, in revising an entire draft— writers unify, organize, clarify, and polish. Writers are assisted in revising if thev imagine that they are readers. It helps to read the draft aloud. They try to put themselves into the mind of the imagined audience, asking themselves, "Is this clear?" "Will a reader need another example?" Or, on the other hand, "Will a reader feel that I am talking down, giving more examples than are needed?" 1. unity is achieved partly by eliminating irrelevancies. Notice that in the final version, the writer has deleted "an unnecessary transition in the story." 2. organization is a matter of arranging material into a sequence that will help the reader grasp the point. 3. clarity is achieved largely by providing concrete details and quotations to support generalizations and by providing helpful transitions ("for instance," "furthermore," "on the other hand," "however"). 4. polishing is small-scale revision. For instance, you should delete unnecessary repetitions. Similarly, in polishing, combine choppy sentences into longer sentences and break overly long sentences into shorter sentences. (In the third paragraph of the draft, many short sentences repeat the pronoun "she" and the idea of being beautiful. In the final draft, these are combined; secondary thoughts are made subordinate to major thoughts.) Later, after producing a draft that seems close to a finished essay, writers engage in yet another activity. They edit. 5. EDITING is concerned with such matters as checking the accuracy of quotations by comparing them with the original, checking a dictionary for WRITING A DRAFT 25 accurate spelling, and consulting a grammar handbook for correct punctuation—for instance, whether a comma or a semicolon is needed in a particular sentence. Outlining a Draft Whether or not you draw up an outline as a preliminary guide to writing a draft, you will be able to improve your draft if you prepare an outline of what you have written. For each paragraph in your draft, jot down the gist of the TOPIC sentence or topic idea, and under each of these sentences, indented, jot down key words for the idea(s) developed in the paragraph. Thus, to create an outline of the first two paragraphs of the draft we have just looked at you might make these jottings: story ironic from start • woman wanted to be beautiful • must convince man in the next cell to marry her to escape hanging central irony • she is still in prison of marriage • love can't last forever • he wants her to be grateful and to serve him An outline of what von have written will help you to see if your draft is adequate in three important ways. The outline will show you 1. the sequence of major topics 2. the degree of development of these topics 3. the argument, the thesis By studying your outline you may see (for instance) that your first major point (probably after an introductory paragraph) would be more effective as your third point, and that your second point needs to be developed further. An outline of this sort is essentially a brief version of your draft, perhaps even using some phrases from the draft. But consider making yet another sort of outline, an outline indicating not what each paragraph says but what each paragraph does. An attempt at such an outline of the four-paragraph draft of the essay on "Marrying" might look like something like this: 1. she must escape by convincing the man to marry her 2. explains "central irony" 3. relates this irony to "deeper irony" of her wanting to be beautiful 4. shows "saddest irony" that modern women can share same prison You ought to see a red flag here. The aim of this sort of outline is to indicate what each paragraph does, but the jotting for the first paragraph does not tell us what the paragraph does; rather, it more or less summarizes the content of the paragraph. Why? Because the paragraph does not do much of anything. Certainly it does not (for example) clearly introduce the thesis, or 20 THE READER AS WRITER: DRAFTING AND WRITING define a crucial term, or set the story in the context of Atwood's other work. An outline indicating the function of each paragraph will force you to see if vour essay has an effective STRUCTURE. We will see that the student later wrote a new opening paragraph for the essay. Peer Review Your instructor may encourage (or even require) you to discuss your draft with another student or with a small group of students; that is, you may be asked to get a review from your peers. Such a procedure is helpful in several ways. First, it gives the writer a real audience, readers who can point to what pleases or puzzles them, who make suggestions, who may disagree (with the writer or with each other), and who frequently, though not intentionally, misread. Though waiters don't necessarily like everything they hear (they seldom hear "This is perfect. Don't change a word!"), reading and discussing their work with others almost always gives them a fresh perspective on their work, and a fresh perspective may stimulate thoughtful revision. (Having your intentions misread because your writing isn't clear enough can be particularly stimulating.) The writer whose work is being reviewed is not the sole beneficiary. When students regularly serve as readers for each other, the}' become better readers of their own work and consequently better revisers. As we stated in Chapter 1, learning to write is in large measure learning to read. If peer review is a part of the writing process in your course, the instructor may distribute a sheet with some suggestions and questions. An example of such a sheet is shown on page 27. Final Checks After vou have revised the draft in response to comments by your reviewer, print it out or read it very carefully on the screen. Read with a critical eye: vou will probably find that you can improve even this version. Even at this late date you may think of a better title, or vou mav sense that a quotation doesn't sound quite right, or you might catch a grammar error. You can make small changes by hand, in ink, but if you make a substantial number of changes, print out a clean copy. (Don't worrv too much about making the final paper "pretty." It is important that it look professional, but a few hand-written corrections are better than an inaccurate paper. Your instructor is looking for good thought and good writing, not a "neat" paper.) You may get some help from the computer even at this last stage: use the spelling and grammar checkers. Word processors alert you to CLICHES, split infinitives, overuse of the passive voice, troublesome pairs of words (like affect/effect), certain kinds of grammatical errors, and words and phrases that are potentially sexist. But be careful: Computers are not yet good at understanding language, and you must know the grammar yourself to evaluate suggestions made by the computer. (This can be particularly troublesome for ESL students, who often make more mistakes by misunderstanding the grammar checker than by trusting their own ability.) WHITING A DRAFT 27 QUESTIONS FOR PEER REVIEW Read each draft once, quickly. Then read it again, with the following questions in mind. 1. What is the essay's topic? Is it one of the assigned topics, or a variation from it? Does the draft show promise of fulfilling the assignment? 2. Looking at the essay as a whole, what thesis is stated or implied? If implied, try to state it in your own words. Should it be clearly stated at the outset? 3.Is the thesis reasonable? How might it be strengthened? 4. Looking at each paragraph separately: a. What is the basic point? (If it isn't clear to you, ask for clarification.) b. How does the paragraph relate to the essay's main idea or to the previous paragraph? c. Should some paragraphs be deleted? Be divided into two or more paragraphs? Be combined? Be put elsewhere? (If you outline the essay by jotting down the gist of each paragraph, you will get help in answering these questions.) d. Is each sentence clearly related to the sentence that precedes and to the sentence that follows? e. Is each paragraph adequately developed? f. Are there sufficient details, perhaps brief supporting quotations from the text? 5. What are the paper's chief strengths? 6. Make at least two specific suggestions that you think will help the author to improve the paper. Remember: Set your spell checker to "English (Canadian)" or "English (United Kingdom)." Do not leave the default setting of "English (United States)." Remember: Machines break down, so you need to allow time before your deadline for possible computer and printer glitches. 28 THE HEADER AS WRITER: DRAFTING AND WRITING THE FINAL VERSION Here is the final version of the student's essay. The essay that was submitted to the instructor was typed, but here, so that you can easily see how the draft has been revised, we print the draft with the linal changes written in by hand. History Repeats Itsel-f Ironioa—for Women A rereading 0-f Margaret Atioood's short Stjbry, "Marrying the Hangman," reVealS layers 0-f irony. %& S-tory is about a looman toho has been, condemned to hanq because she stole some dotkes, because she wanted tc make hersel-f more beauti-ful H5V She can only escape by marrying a hangman and she must -first convince a Man in ■ike next ceil tn become -ike hangman, -iken -it> marry her. She does convince him, by promising him sexual -favours ("nipple," "belly," "tki$hs"\ 04V She is released -from prison. Although -ike looman escapes hanfn^, ironically she continues to \i\ie in prison and so, it seems, do many toomen today. After we know how Margaret Atwood' s storjy^ "Martying the Hangman," turns out, we fifta irony at the very sTfcart. The story is about/a woman who has been condemned os^hang because s-fie stole some clothes, because she Td^ntea to make herself more beautiful" (13). She can ohiy escape by marrying a hangman. So she murst first convince a man in the next cell to become the hangman. Then^he has to marry hep/ She does convince him and she is\. released from prison. "everyone said she was a clever looman," but by clever everyone meant manipulative or sneaky- "'They used the ioord ensnare" 04V It is ironic tkat she is condemned by the \iery tkinp that made her dealer enough -in convince tke man and to seduce him. T111L FINAL YUKSION Tne cen-iral irony An irony is that she discovers immediately that she has "left one.locked room for another" a torfe i*w *must obeu her husband (14) . She is now /his wife and she must—obey him and keep his house. And she discovers that love "did not keep them busy forever" (14). Although he "is not such a bad fellow," and wants only a simple life, he also wants her to "watch him while he talks, with admiration and fear, gratitude if possible" (14). i ť , perhaps, A deeper irony^is the fact that the woman's crime was wanting to be beautiful. A-tioood su^es-ts ■ika-i her de&ire -for beaix-bj was a túMJ -for her -to Kaoio hersel-f, -to f\ie kexsel-f uoHk. ^ Being beautiful—was how bhe knew herself. Also, she has to give up her image of herself. She , bu-t jMus-fc use her husband can no longer see her own beauty^ She uses him as a mirror. In the prison she uses his voice through a hole in the wall to mirror back to her a sense of her identity. But when she is free, she must see hersei-f -through km- continue to use him as her mirror. If she resists, his words become harsh: "foot, boot," "fist," "knife" (14). This is her real imprisonment. in The saddest irony in the—story is. the outer Ike looMen toho are -telling -the narra-tor horror s-tones are also story. Some—friends tell "the narrator atones afraid, and also can'-t See -tkewSelsJeS prOperlU. about abuse. If we are right 'that 'one speaker has been raped, it is horrible that she didn't have "time to put my glasses on" so she couldn't see her In some íOíK/S, S attacker^^She'is like the woman speaking through the hole in the wall who was unable to see the man -to wkflw ske had -to u-je hersel-f. 3hc had to marry'. Atwood tells this ironic historical anecdote to point out the similarity to -the li\jes of cjonrtmporani icomen the—contemporary women'□—live3. "These things happen" she says (13). The irony is that history repeats itself. Work Cited Atwood, Margaret. "Marrying the Hangman." Two-Headed Poems. Toronto: Oxford UP, 1978. 30 THU RF-ADliR AS WRITER: DRAFTING AND WRITING A Brief Overview of the Final Version Finally, as a quick review, let us look at several principles illustrated by this essav. J • The title of the essay is not merely the title of the work discussed; rather, it gives the reader a clue, a small idea of the essayists topic. Because your title will create a crucial first impression, make sure that it is interesting. • The opening or introductory paragraph does not begin bv saying "In this story [ . . . J." Rather, by naming the author and the title it lets the reader know exactly what story is being discussed. It also develops the writer's thesis so that readers know where they will be going. • The organization is effective. The more obvious irony is discussed and then the deeper ironv and then the more subtle connection to modern women. The essay does not dwindle but builds up. (Again, if you outline your draft you will see whether it has an effective organization.) • Some brief (/notations are used, both to provide evidence and to let the reader hear—even if only fleetingly—Margaret Atwood's writing. • The essay is chiefly devoted to anah/sis, not to summanj. The writer, properly assuming that the reader has read the work, does not tell the plot in great detail. But, aware that the reader has not memorized the story, the writer gives helpful reminders. • The present tense is used in narrating the action: "She does convince him"; "Atwood tells this historical anecdote [ . . . ]." • Although a concluding paragraph is often useful—if it does more than merely summarize what has already been clearly said—it is not essential in a short analysis. In this essay, the last sentence explains the chief irony and, therefore, makes an acceptable ending. • Documentation is given according to the form set forth in Chapter 15. • There are no typographical errors. The author lias proofread the paper carefully. 3 Two Forms of Criticism: Explication and Analysis Learning Objectives When you've read this chapter, you should be able to >• explicate a text; >- analyze a text; compare or contrast two aspects of a text; *- organize evidence as you plan your essay; and s> plan, draft, revise, and edit your essay. EXPLICATION A line-by-line or episode-by-episode commentary on what is going on in a text is an explication (literally, unfolding or spreading out). It takes some skill to work one's way along without saving, "In line one [ . . . ] in the second line [...]; in the third line f . . . ]." One must sometimes boldly say something like, "The next stanza begins with [ . . . ] and then introduces [...]." And, of course, one can discuss the second line before the first line if that seems to be the best way of handling the passage. An explication does not deal with the writer's life or times, and it is not a paraphrase, a rewording—though it may include paraphrase. Rather, it is a commentary revealing your sense of the meaning of the work. To this end it calls attention, as it proceeds, to the implications of words, the function of rhymes, the shifts in point of view, the development of contrasts, and any other contributions to the meaning. A Sample Explication: George Bowering's "Forget" The following short poem is by George Bowering (1935- ), who was born in Penticton, BC and was educated at the University of British Columbia. At UBC he was one of the editors ofTisli, an influential poetry magazine that published a group of writers influenced by the Black Mountain poetry of Charles Olscn and others. Bowering has taught or been writer-in-residence at a number ol Canadian universities. He appears regularly on television and radio. 31 32 TWO I'OliMS ()]-' CRITICISM: EXPLICATION AND ANALYSIS Forget We forget those apartment blocks were made step-by-step by human hands. The glue on this envelope too it tastes like a pear. Different readers will respond at least somewhat differently to anv particular work. On the other hand, since writers want to communicate, thev try to control their readers' responses, and thev count on their readers to understand the denotations of words as they understand them. Thus, Bowering assumes that his readers know what large apartment buildings look like, even if they don't know Vancouver's West End, about which he may be writing. Explication is based on the assumption that the poem contains a meaning and that by studying the work thoughtfully we can unfold the meaning or meanings. (This opinion—which has been disputed—will be brought up again at the end of this discussion ol explication.) Let us assume that the reader understands that Bowering is talking about bland or ugly apartment buildings in large cities, and that we forget that real people designed and built them even though they look so impersonal. But Bowering does not say "did not know," he says "forget," and when he shifts to an image of the envelope, he uses the1 word "glue." You might ask yourself exactly what differences there are between the ideas of ignorance and of forgetting, or what the word glue implies. Next, after you have read the poem several times, you might think about which expressions are better in the context, and why. Working toward an Explication of "Forget" In preparing to write an explication, tvpe or write bv band the complete text of the work—usually a poem but sometimes a short passage of prose—that you will explicate. Don't photocopy it; the act of typing or writing it will help you to get into the piece, word bv word, comma by comma. Type or write it double-spaced, so that you will have plenty of room for annotations as vou study the piece. It's advisable to print a few copies (or make a few photocopies) before you start annotating, so that if one page gets too cluttered you can continue working on a clean copy. Or vou may want to use one copy for a certain kind of annotations—lets sav those concerning imagery—and other copies for other kinds of notes—let's say those concerning inetre, or wordplay. If you are writing on a word processor, you can highlight words, boldface them, put them in capitals, and so forth. EXPLICATION 33 Let's turn to an explication of the poem, a detailed examination of the whole. Here are the preliminary jottings. Forget Who are ioe? - We forget those - tohuk? How do toe knoio? apartment blocks can m See -[km? breaks ioord J were ,nado steP- fOup - S-iickS by-step by ___- by/b„ (r^uSw\ Ourt human hands. The glue on this — odd. U%/ siuH io fxg ioas also - envelope too — again, muk envelope? made b• write a summary and paraphrase; 5^ write a literary response; >- recognize parody and pastiche; and write a review of a dramatic production or other literary text. A SUMMARY The essay on "Marrying tfie Hangman" in Chapter 2 does not include a sum-man7 because the writer knew that all of her readers were thoroughly familiar with Atwood's story. Sometimes, however, it is advisable to summarize the work vou are writing about, thus reminding a reader who has not read the work recently, or even informing a reader who may never have read the work. A review of a new work of literature or of a new film, for instance, usually includes a summary on the assumption that readers are unfamiliar with it. A summary is a brief restatement or condensation of the plot. (In non-literary writing, a summary is also often helpful; here, it is a condensation of the author's critical analysis, including a statement of his or her thesis.) Consider the following summary of Atwood's "Marrying the Hangman." A woman who has been condemned to death by hanging learns that while a man may escape hanging if he agrees to become the hangman, a woman can also save herself by marrying the hangman. There is no hangman for her to marry, so she convinces a man in the next cell--to whom she talks through a hole in the wall--to become the executioner and then to marry her. Once married, she realizes that she has "traded one locked room for another." Like the contemporary women who tell the narrator "horror stories," this woman has no identity outside the man who demands her "gratitude." A PARAPHRASE S3 Like them she is subject to abuse. Her destiny is caught up in words and those words show her imprisonment. Here are a few principles that govern summaries-. 1. A summary is much briefer than the original. It is not a paraphrase— a word-by-word translation of someone's words into your own. A paraphrase is usually at least as long as the original, whereas a summary is rarely longer than one quarter of the original and is usually much shorter. A novel may be summarized in a few paragraphs, or even in one paragraph. 2. A summary usually achieves its brevity by omitting almost all of the concrete details of the original and by omitting minor characters and episodes. Notice that the summary of "Marrying the Hangman" omits the reason the woman was in prison, omits the image of the mirror, and omits the comments on the character of the husband. 3. A summary is as accurate as possible, given the limits of space. 4. A summary is normally written in the present tense. Thus "A woman is condemned to hanging [...]; The friends tell the narrator [ . . . ]." 5. If the summary is brief (say, fewer than 250 words), it may be given as a single paragraph. If you are summarizing a long work, you mav feel that a longer summary is needed. In this case, your reader will be grateful to vou if you divide the summary into paragraphs. As you draft your sum-mar)', vou may find natural divisions. For instance, the scene of the story may change midway, providing you with the opportunity to use two paragraphs. Or you may want to summarize a five-act play in five paragraphs. Summaries have their place in essays, but remember that a summary is not an analysis; it is only a summary. A PARAPHRASE A paraphrase is a restatement—a sort of translation into the same language— of material that may in its original form be somewhat obscure to a reader. A native speaker of English will not need a paraphrase of "Thirty days hath September," though a non-native speaker might be puzzled bv two things, the meaning of hath and the inverted word order. For such a reader, "September has thirty days" would be a helpful paraphrase. Although a paraphrase seeks to make clear the gist of the original, if the original is even a little more complex than "Thirty days hath September" the paraphrase will—in the process of clarifying something—lose something, since the substitution of one word for another will change the meaning. For instance, "Shut up" and "Be quiet" do not say exactly the same thing; the former (in addition to asking for quiet) says that the speaker is rude, or perhaps it says that the speaker feels he can treat his listener contemptuously, but the paraphrase loses all of this. Still, a paraphrase can be helpful as a first step in aiding a reader to understand a line that includes an obsolete word or phrase, or a word or 54 OTHKR KINDS OF WHITING ABOl 'T L1TFRATI Hi: phrase that is current only in one region, or a word with multiple meanings. For instance, in a poem bv Phvllis Webb, titled "Propositions," the following line appears: the just passion, just encountering In the Oxford English Dictionary, just has 22 meanings! Even taking the most common, we realize that the word carries both the meaning of "onlv" (or "barely"), of "exactly," and of "fair, morally or legally right." So a paraphrase of the line might go thus: that which is only and exactly love—but is right—simply and precisely coming together in a fair manner. (And the older definitions include the word as a form of joust, so there is also a notion of two lovers parrying with one another, a reading that fits with the theme and with images of the Four Horsemen elsewhere in the poem.) Rendering this beautiful line in such a clumsy paraphrase shows how concentrated poetic language can be, how much can be contained in a few words. (It's worth mentioning, parenthetically, that vou should have at your elbow a good desk dictionary, such as Gage Canadian Dictionarij, The Penguin Canadian Dictionary, The Canadian Oxford Dictionary or The Concise Oxford English Dictionary. Writers—especially poets—expect you to pay close attention to every word. If a word puzzles you, look it up.) idioms, as well as words, may puzzle a reader. The Anglo-Irish poet William Butler Yeats begins one poem with The friends that have it I do wrong Because the idiom "to have it" (meaning "to believe that," "to think that") is unfamiliar to many Canadian readers today, a discussion of the poem might include a paraphrase—a rewording, a translation into more familiar language, such as The friends who think that I am doing the wrong thing Perhaps the rest of the poem is immediately clear, but in any case here is the entire poem, followed by a paraphrase: The friends that have it I do wrong When ever I remake a song, Should know what issue is at stake: It is mvself that I remake. Now for the paraphrase: The friends who think that I am doing the wrong thing when I revise one of my poems should be told what the important issue is; I'm not just revising a poem; rather, I am revising my own thoughts, my own feelings. A LITERARY RESPONSE 55 Here, as with any paraphrase, the meaning is not translated exactly; there is some distortion. If English is not your first language, you are very aware of how hard it is to capture true meaning in a paraphrase or translation. For instance, if "song" in the original is clarified by "poem" in the paraphrase, it is also altered; the paraphrase loses the sense of lyricism that is implicit in "song." Further, "Should know what issue is at stake" (in the original), is ambiguous. Does "should" mean "ought," as in (for instance) "You should know better than to speak so rudely," or does it mean "deserve to be informed," as in "You ought to know that I am thinking about quitting"? Granted that a paraphrase may miss a great deal, a paraphrase often helps you, or your reader, to understand at least the surface meaning, and the act of paraphrasing will usually help you to understand at least some of the implicit meaning. Furthermore, a paraphrase makes you see that the original writer's words (if the work is a good one) are exactly right, better than any words we might substitute. It becomes clear that the thing said in the original—not only the rough "idea" expressed but also the precise TONE with which it is expressed—is a sharply defined experience. A LITERARY RESPONSE Of course, anything that you write about a work of literature is a response, even if it seems to be as matter-of-fact as a summary. It's sometimes useful to compare your summary with that of a classmate. You may be surprised to find that the two summaries differ considerably—though when you think about it, this is not really surprising. Two different people are saying what they think is the gist of the work, and their views are inevitably shaped, at least to some degree, by such things as their gender, their ethnicity, and their experience (including, of course, their literary experience). But when we talk about writing a response, we usually mean something more avowedly personal, something (for instance) like an entry in a journal, wherein the writer may set forth an emotional response, perhaps relating the work to one of his or her own experiences. (On journals, see pages 18-19.) Writing a Literary Response You may want to rewrite a literary work, for instance by giving it a different ending, or by writing an epilogue in which you show the characters 20 years later. (We have already talked about the possibility of writing a sequel to Vigneault's "The Wall," or of writing a letter from the monk to the mason, or of writing the monk's memoirs.) Or you might want to rewrite a literary work, presenting the characters from a somewhat different point of view. A student who argues in an essay on Davies' Fifth Business that Boy Staunton needs someone very much like Dunstan Ramsay as a FOIL might well rewrite Davies' novel from Staunton's point of view. The fun for the reader would of course rest largely in hearing the story reinterpreted, in seeing the story turned inside out. It would be a challenge to rewrite "Marrying the Hangman" 56 Oil IKK KINDS Ol-" WHITING ABOl T 1.ITKR.YI IRK from the point of view oi the husband. What would he say of the voice through the wall and its sexual promises? And what would he say of the woman he subsequently found himself bound to marrv? Is he guilty of abuse? Does he really want gratitude from his wife for saving her, or does he just want a "simple life"? Rewriting a story like this could be an entertaining exercise, and it certainlv would help you come to understand the authors STYLE and use of detail. It is unlikely, however, that you will be asked to undertake such an exercise (except, perhaps, in a creative writing class). A PARODY One special kind of response is the parody, a comic form that imitates the original in a humorous way. It is a caricature in words. For instance, a parodv may imitate the style of the original—let's say, short, punchy sentences—but applv this style to a subject that the original author would not be concerned with. Thus, because Ernest Hemingway often wrote short, simple sentences about tough guys engaged in activities such as hunting, fishing, and boxing, parodists of Hemingway are likelv to use the same style but for their subject they may choose something like opening the mail, or preparing a cup of tea. Canadians have a great love of parody (as we do of satire). One of the funniest books in early Canadian literature was Sarah Binks, a parody by-Paul Hiebert of literary styles, literary' criticism, and second-rate writing . Hiebert created a fictional poet named Sarah Binks (he called her a poetess and the Laureate of Saskatchewan which, today; adds to the humour) who wrote terrible poems in various derivative styles. She treated absurd subjects and had a funny, repressed relationship with the hired man, Ole. Hiebert made up her poems and then wrote literary criticism of them, lampooning professorial attitudes and vocabulary. Traditional parodies are critical, but they are usually affectionate, too. In the best parodies one feels that the writer admires the author being parodied. Canadians have come to love Sarah Binks, even though they see how foolish she is and how naive. Stephen Leacock, an early Canadian humorist, often used parody in his scathing satires. Popular TV shows like the verv successful SCTV, The Royal Canadian Air Farce, and This Hour Has 22 Minutes all use parodv as one of their vehicles for humour. Not only can literature parody itself, but film and television can also exaggerate and poke fun at the cliches in which they operate. SCTVs parodies of movie classics are hilarious, and characters on This Hour Has 22 Minutes are often depicted watching the very programmes thev satirize and mimicking the behaviour of characters on these shows. This sort of double parody is very sophisticated. POSTMODERN PASTICHE AND PARODY In the last twenty years or so, a new attitude has developed that eclipses or "empties out" parody. Parody may take pieces from various existing literary, dramatic, and filmic sources and "glue" them together into a mixed form A RKVIEW 57 that mimics (or satirizes) the individual styles or beliefs of each "piece." Fredric Jameson, in his influential essay "Postmodernism and Consumer Society," however, describes a contemporary condition in which stvles or beliefs—and even language—is no longer seen as individual or living. The writer who takes segments of such emptv allusions engages in what Jameson calls a "neutral" mimicry, creating "blank parody." Jameson calls this style of writing PASTICHE and argues that it does not have the same intention to correct, or the same affection for the source, as traditional parody. Many voung, urban Canadian writers are creating pastiche. A REVIEW A review, for instance of a play or of a novel, is also a response, since it normally includes an evaluation of the work, but at least at first glance it may seem to be an analytic essay We'll talk about a review of a production of a play, but you can easily adapt what we say to a review of a book. A Review of a Dramatic Production Your instructor may ask you to write a review of a local production. A review requires analytic skill, but it is not identical with an analysis. First, a reviewer normally assumes that the reader is unfamiliar with the production being reviewed and also with the play if the play is not a classic. Thus, the first paragraph usually provides a helpful introduction along these lines: Morris Panych's award-winning play, 7 Stories, a satire of social, psychological and religions attitudes, shows us a man contemplating suicide. Having been unable to find a parking place, the Man decides he can no longer bear to live in his urban world and plans to leap off a building. On the ledge, he encounters the occupants of the building who slowly lead him to a self-revelation. Inevitably some retelling of the plot is necessary if the play is new, and a summary of a sentence or two is acceptable even for a familiar play. The review will, however, chiefly be concerned with describing, analyzing, and evaluating. Some advice: 1. Save the program; it will give you the names of the actors, and perhaps a brief biography of the author, a synopsis of the plot, and a photograph of the set, all of which may be helpful. 2. Draft your review as soon as possible, while the performance is still fresh in your mind. If you cannot draft it immediately after seeing the play, at least jot down some notes about the setting and the staging, the acting, and the audience's response. 58 OTHER KINDS OF WRITING AHOI T LITERATI Kl. 3. If possible, read the play—ideally, before the performance and again after it. 4. In your first draft, don't worry about limitations of space; write as long a review as vou wish, putting down everything that comes to mind. Later, you can cut it to the required length, retaining only the chief points and the necessary supporting details; but in your first draft, try to produce a fairly full record of the performance and your response to it, so that later, when you revise, you won't have to trust a fading memory for details. A Sample Review: "An Effective Macbe.tli" If you read reviews of plays in Macleans or a newspaper, you will soon develop a sense of what reviews normally do. Newspaper reviews, however, are usually not as concerned with analysis as vou might be in a critical review for class. The following example, an undergraduate's review of a production of Macbeth, is typical except in one respect. As has been mentioned, reviews of new plavs customarily include a few sentences summarizing the plot and classifying the play (a tragedy, a farce, a rock musical, or whatever), perhaps briefly putting it into the context of the author's other works. Because Macbeth is so widely known, however, the reviewer need not tell her readers that the play is a tragedy by Shakespeare. Preliminary Jottings During the two intermissions and immediately after the end of the performance, the reviewer made a few jottings, which she rewrote later: Compare with last year's Midsummer Night's Dream Set: barren; pipe framework at rear. Duncan exits on it. . Useful? ^witches: powerful, not funny (stage: battlefield? barren land~T) ^---(costume: earth-colored rag^> they seduce--even caress--Mac. Macbeth witchoe—i^uliugu hiiir0-strong; also gentle (with Lady M) Lady Macb. sexy in speech about unsexing her too attractive? Prob. ok Banquo's ghost: naturalistic; covered with blood Duncan: terrible; worst actor except for Lady Macduff's boy costumes: leather, metal; only Duncan in robes Dipe framework used for D, and murder of Lady\ Macduff ^ forest: branches unrealistic; stylized? or cheesy? A RFA'IEW 59 The Finished Version The published review follows, accompanied by some marginal notes commenting on its strengths. Title conveys information about thesis. Sandra Santiago An Effective Macbeth Macbeth at the University Theater is a thoughtful and occasionally exciting production, partly because the director, Mark Urice, has trusted Shakespeare and has not imposed a gimmick on the play. The characters reader know the do not wear cowboy costumes as they did in last year's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Opening paragraph is informative, letting the reviewer s overall attitude. Note that this review is of a production in the US and the spelling is American, not Canadian. Reviewer promptly turns to a major issue. First sentence of this paragraph provides an effective transition. Probably the chief problem confronting a director of Macbeth is how to present the witches so that they are powerful supernatural forces and not silly things that look as though they came from a Halloween party. Urice gives us ugly but not absurdly grotesque witches, and he introduces them most effectively. The stage seems to be a bombed-out battlefield littered with rocks and great chunks of earth, but some of these begin to stir--the earth seems to come alive--and the clods move, unfold, and become the witches, dressed in brown and dark gray rags. The suggestion is that the witches are a part of nature, elemental forces that can hardly be escaped. This effect is increased by the moans and creaking noises that they make, all of which could be comic but which in this production are impressive. The witches' power over Macbeth is further emphasized by their actions. When the witches first meet Macbeth, they encircle him, touch him, caress him, even embrace him, and he seems helpless, almost their plaything. Moreover, in the scene in which he imagines 6() OTHER KINDS OF WRITING ABOUT LITERATI RE Paragraph begins with a broad assertion and then offers supporting details. Reference to a particular scene. that he sees a dagger, the director has arranged for one of the witches to appear, stand near Macbeth, and guide his hand toward the invisible dagger. This is, of course, not in the text, but the interpretation is reasonable rather than intrusive. Finally, near the end of the play, just before Macduff kills Macbeth, a witch appears and laughs at Macbeth as Macduff explains that he was not "born of woman." There is no doubt that throughout the tragedy Macbeth has been a puppet of the witches. Macbeth (Stephen Beers) and Lady Macbeth (Tina Peters) are excellent. Beers is sufficiently brawny to be convincing as a battlefield hero, but he also speaks the lines sensitively, and so the audience feels that in addition to being a hero he is a man of insight and imagination, and even a man of gentleness. One can believe Lady Macbeth when she says that she fears he is "too full of the milk of human kindness" to murder Duncan. Lady Macbeth is especially effective in the scene in which she asks the spirits to "unsex her." During this speech she is reclining on a bed and as she delivers the lines she becomes increasingly sexual in her bodily motions, deriving excitement from her own stimulating words. Her attachment to Macbeth is strongly sexual, and so too is his attraction to her. The scene when she persuades him to kill Duncan ends with them passionately embracing. The strong attraction of each for the other, so evident in the early part of the play, disappears after the murder, when Macbeth keeps his distance from Lady Macbeth and does not allow her to touch him. A KKVIKW g i Description, but also analysis. Concrete details. Summary The acting of the other performers is effective, except for Duncan (John Berens), who recites the lines mechanically and seems not to take much account of their meaning. The set consists of a barren plot at the rear on which stands a spidery framework of piping, of the sort used by construction companies, supporting a catwalk. This framework fits with the costumes (lots of armor, leather, heavy boots), suggesting a sort of elemental, primitive, and somewhat sadistic world. The catwalk, though effectively used when Macbeth goes off to murder Duncan (whose room is presumably upstairs and offstage) is not much used in later scenes. For the most part it is an interesting piece of scenery but it is not otherwise helpful. For instance, there is no reason why the scene with Macduff's wife and children is staged on it. The costumes are not in any way Scottish--no plaids--but in several scenes the sound of a bagpipe is heard, adding another weird or primitive tone to the production. This Macbeth appeals to the eye, the ear, and the mind. The director has given us a unified production that makes sense and that is faithful to the spirit of Shakespeare's play. Documentation Work Cited Macbeth. By William Shakespeare. Dir. Mark Urice. Perf. Stephen Beers, Tina Peters, and John Berens. University Theater, Medford, MA. 3 Mar. 1990. The marginal notes call attention to certain qualities in the review, but three additional points should be made: 02 OTI UUi KINDS OF WKl'l l.\G ABOIT I.ITF.RATlKH 1. The reviewer's feelings and evaluations are clearly expressed, not in such expressions as "furthermore I feel," and "it is also mv opinion," but in such expressions as "a thoughtful and occasionally exciting production," "excellent," and "appeals to the eye, the ear, and the mind." 2. The evaluations are supported by details. For instance, the evaluation that the witches are effectively presented is supported bv a brief description of their appearance. 3. The reviewer is courteous, even when (as in the discussion of the catwalk, in the next-to-last paragraph) she is talking about aspects of the production she doesn't care for. C£ Suggestions for Further Reading Fredrie Jameson, "Postmodernism and Consumer Society," The Anti-Aesthetic (1983). Jamesons idea of pastiche is further discussed in "Postmodernism: The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism," New Left Review 146 (1984).