Book Club Time!

[bloodyrosemccoy]

Today's Discussion Question:

Show of hands, people. Did anyone else here besides me just not like Ender's Game? I'm not talking about the prevalent opinion of "Love the book. Shame about the author's raging douchenozzlery," which is a totally fair opinion to have. I'm talking about just being ragingly, compulsively unimpressed by the book itself.

I read it back in junior high, see. I think it was before I knew that Orson Scott Motherfucking Card was an unmitigated jackass, but I can't be entirely sure, since he's also a big source of pride for Utah and for a while he wrote a column for the Deseret News, the conservative Mormon paper around here.* I do recall getting a sense that he was a jerk from the book, but a poll of my classmates (we read it for class--Utah pride, remember) told me that nobody else got that sense,** and I've met a lot of cool folks since then who also didn't get that vibe.

But anyway, the upshot is that Ender's Game has always left me cold. I did not like or care about the characters. I did not really care about their fear of aliens, or their Battle Room strategies, or the kids' petty squabbles, or Val and Peter's Blogging For Change campaign. I spotted the twists before they happened and just thought the fact that Ender didn't made him seem kind of dim. The only thing I really liked was the revelation of the buggers' Oh Shit Moment when they realized they'd made a grievous assumption--and that was mostly an aside.

I know a lot of folks love it--pretty much everyone I talk to. So I'm just wondering--did anybody else have this response? Or was it just me?


*I'm not sure if he still does; frankly, I don't feel like looking it up.

**This doesn't prove anything, though, since some years later in high school only a select few of my classmates picked up on the fact that the chapter in Dickens' Our Mutual Friend in which the terrifyingly intense creepy stalker dude confesses to the hapless object of his desires that he is pretty literally crazy for her and he wants--and DESERVES!--to live inside her skin and breathe her breaths or somesuch was not supposed to be SWOONINGLY ROMANTIC. In retrospect, that discussion was a pretty good predictor of the success of Twilight.

Comments

[padparadscha.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I was a clever adolescent wondering why these darn kids didn't just quit acting like shitheads. But I will admit that it's not just his own assessment of his books; the kids in my class overwhelmingly thought it was terrific.

I think symbolism can be accidental, but that doesn't mean it isn't there, dangit!

[broken-moons.livejournal.com]

Hooking in on the symbolism thing, I must say it always annoyed me when teachers urged us to find all the symbolism the author put into their novel. Like with T.S. Eliot, we had this annotated version of The Wasteland, where the only words not accompanied by footnotes were 'the' and 'and', and everyone made it out like Eliot had put all of those references and symbolisms in consciously.

I always thought that was bullshit. Yes, there would be a lot he'd put in on purpose. But the longer we as a species develop our cultures, the smaller the world becomes in terms of culture references becoming available to other cultures, the more our history develops - the more symbolism we are going to find in art, regardless of how much the author put into it consciously.

Accidental symbolism is much more amazing, imo, than insisting authors know every cultural reference ever, and always put everything they know into everything they write.

[fadethecat.livejournal.com]

I tend to regard discussion of authorial intent as something akin to Lies Told To Children, when it comes to literary analysis. In that beyond a certain point it's not really relevant (except maybe as an entertaining footnote), but it's often used as an entry point to teaching literary criticism, as something that young readers can hook onto and understand better than lit crit as a whole.

Which means that it's probably still appropriate in high school, but I would seriously side-eye a college professor who taught any sort of literature class with an emphasis on what the author "meant" or the symbolism they "put in". (I sometimes think that they still teach The Scarlet Letter in high school purely because the author stands up and goes LOOK AT MY SYMBOLISM BOY HOWDY right in the first chapter, which makes it an easy version of the Lies to point to and teach.)

[padparadscha.livejournal.com]

There are a few books that do it blatantly--Laurie Halse Anderson, for one, seems to pick a glossary of symbolism for each of her books. It's kind of fun, but also a little anvil-ish.

There are also different degrees of author intent--sometimes they're clearly making a point with their story/character, anyway. But when one teacher insisted that EVERY WORD was carefully crafted to fit in with the author's point, I was ... skeptical.

So I guess you do have to start with a rather broad hammer of authorial intent, and then refine it. But I also look sidelong at any AUTHOR who claims to have deliberately put in a lot of Deep Hidden Meaning. Often the author is as surprised as anyone else when the symbolism is pointed out.

[fadethecat.livejournal.com]

Oh, teacher, no!

*coughs* Because, really, to an extent a poet should be crafting Every Word With Intent And Meaning, but what culture and context and reader and unconscious connections bring to the poem mean that even if the poet has tried to do so, there's going to be unplanned stuff in there, just as much as there'll be planned stuff that doesn't quite click. (Especially if it's not done with sledgehammer symbolism, and really, I got tired of that after getting all the way through Pilgrim's Progress.)