Harry Potter, JK Rowling, and literary criticism
This is a public post...
This is not mine. This is an essay written by a friend of mine, Subtle Science, that I feel is a definitive statement on J. K. Rowling's interviews about her works.
Essay begins here:
Much has been and is being made of JKR's remarks following the publication of DH--specifically, her statement that she does not perceive Severus Snape to be a hero. Those who enjoy the character are appalled; those who despise Snape are rejoicing.
Neither side should care.
What JKR says about her books is irrelevant. It always has been; it always will be. An author is not the final authority on his/her own work.
It seems a paradox, if not downright outrageous....The problem lies in the fact that, once JKR speaks of her beliefs regarding character motivation, or gives any other interpretative comment on the books, she has stepped out of the role of author and into the role of critic. And, as a critic, her opinions count for no more or less than yours, mine, or anyone else's.
It was Northrop Frye who delineated this in his essay Anatomy of Criticism . In it, Frye analyzes the difference between artist and critic, and the function of criticism in relation to art:
"Criticism can talk, and all the arts are dumb. In painting, sculpture, or music it is easy enough to see that the art shows forth, but cannot say anything."
What Frye means by this is that the art is, itself, what the artist had to say. A writer, painter, sculptor--whatever his/her art form--has a plan and a purpose. Art is not without conscious intention; its meaning does does rely solely upon the observers' reactions. Writers have an intention, and it is as possible for a reader's interpretation to be wholly wrong as it is wholly right. However, what the writer has to say is the work itself--nothing more. The mode of expression is the medium the artist chose, and what he/she had to say is the work of art that is produced:
"Poetry is a disinterested use of words: it does not address a reader directly. When it does so, we usually feel that the poet has some distrust in the capacity of readers and critics to interpret his meaning without assistance, and has therefore dropped into the sub-poetic level of talk ("verse" or "doggeral") which anyone can learn to produce" (Frye).
The poem, or novel, or painting, is the statement: it contains all the meaning, and, as Frye says, further elaboration by the artist would step across a boundary--the artist would usurp the place of the critic to analyze and deduce the meaning....or turn the work of art into a lecture.
This is how it is possible for a reader to find more--or less--in a work of literature than the author intended. The author's artistic skill should provide all the information necessary for the reader to understand, should the reader be capable of understanding. The reader-critic's job is to be capable: to analyze the work, develop theories, and test those theories, all rigorously. The reader develops an interpretation--which the text must bear out. Literary criticism is akin to assembling a jigsaw puzzle: all the pieces must fit together; they cannot be forced. If an idea jars with another, or with evidence from the text, everything must be re-examined--until it all fits together logically and consistently.
The interpretation must be as internally consistent as the literary work must be--the two go hand-in-hand. The jigsaw pieces fit easily, the picture is coherent. As Aristotle says in his Poetics, "In character, as in the construction of incidents, we must always seek for either the necessary or the probable, so that a given type of person says or does certain kinds of things, and one event follows another according to necessity or probability" (XV). The quality of art depends upon this consistency; similarly, the validity of critical interpretation is founded upon its consistency with what appears in the author's text.
An author is as free as anyone else to critique and interpret his/her own work, but there is no special validity to the remarks. Someone may ask me about my art, but nothing I say is of any particular note--not in terms of interpretation. Factual, yes: if someone states that the medium was watercolor, and I say that it was colored ink, I am right. However, if someone asks me why I drew such a subject or what meaning I intended--well, then, I am merely a critic giving my own opinion, which may be quite different from someone else's. The key is how each of us reaches the conclusion and the evidence to which each of us can point to porive the points. If the evidence is there, we are right. Or perhaps we're partially right. Or maybe we're wrong. My opinion carries no more weight: what I had to say as an artist is in the drawing--now we can discuss whether or not the artist expressed her ideas clearly and consistently. This is most obvious and understandable when there is the most basic conflict of interpretation of all: I despise my work, and someone else likes it, or vice versa.
How can an artist be wrong about his/her own work? It lies in the nature of creativity itself: art is produced by a conscious act, but it is fueled by the subconscious. Therefore, there is what is meant, and then there what is actually communicated. The critic steps forward to uncover what is communicated. An author is welcome to join that process, but it is a separate, distinct process from the act of creation. The author who comments upon his/her own work joins the ranks of the outsiders examining it. The author is not the novel; the novel is a separate entity, which, to be art, must stand alone, on its own merits. Gustave Flaubert said it most succinctly, "L'homme n'est rien, l'oeuvre tout."
Is Snape a hero? Yes. The novel says so.
Works Cited
Aristotle's Poetics: A Translation and Commentary for Students of Literature. Trans. by Leon Golden, Commentary by O. B. Hardison, Jr. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1981.
Flaubert, Gustave. Letter to George Sands. http://www.etudes-litteraires.com/flaubert-art.php
Frye, Northrop. "Polemical Introduction," Anatomy of Criticism. www.noteaccess.com/Texts/Frye/Intro.htm
This is not mine. This is an essay written by a friend of mine, Subtle Science, that I feel is a definitive statement on J. K. Rowling's interviews about her works.
Essay begins here:
Much has been and is being made of JKR's remarks following the publication of DH--specifically, her statement that she does not perceive Severus Snape to be a hero. Those who enjoy the character are appalled; those who despise Snape are rejoicing.
Neither side should care.
What JKR says about her books is irrelevant. It always has been; it always will be. An author is not the final authority on his/her own work.
It seems a paradox, if not downright outrageous....The problem lies in the fact that, once JKR speaks of her beliefs regarding character motivation, or gives any other interpretative comment on the books, she has stepped out of the role of author and into the role of critic. And, as a critic, her opinions count for no more or less than yours, mine, or anyone else's.
It was Northrop Frye who delineated this in his essay Anatomy of Criticism . In it, Frye analyzes the difference between artist and critic, and the function of criticism in relation to art:
"Criticism can talk, and all the arts are dumb. In painting, sculpture, or music it is easy enough to see that the art shows forth, but cannot say anything."
What Frye means by this is that the art is, itself, what the artist had to say. A writer, painter, sculptor--whatever his/her art form--has a plan and a purpose. Art is not without conscious intention; its meaning does does rely solely upon the observers' reactions. Writers have an intention, and it is as possible for a reader's interpretation to be wholly wrong as it is wholly right. However, what the writer has to say is the work itself--nothing more. The mode of expression is the medium the artist chose, and what he/she had to say is the work of art that is produced:
"Poetry is a disinterested use of words: it does not address a reader directly. When it does so, we usually feel that the poet has some distrust in the capacity of readers and critics to interpret his meaning without assistance, and has therefore dropped into the sub-poetic level of talk ("verse" or "doggeral") which anyone can learn to produce" (Frye).
The poem, or novel, or painting, is the statement: it contains all the meaning, and, as Frye says, further elaboration by the artist would step across a boundary--the artist would usurp the place of the critic to analyze and deduce the meaning....or turn the work of art into a lecture.
This is how it is possible for a reader to find more--or less--in a work of literature than the author intended. The author's artistic skill should provide all the information necessary for the reader to understand, should the reader be capable of understanding. The reader-critic's job is to be capable: to analyze the work, develop theories, and test those theories, all rigorously. The reader develops an interpretation--which the text must bear out. Literary criticism is akin to assembling a jigsaw puzzle: all the pieces must fit together; they cannot be forced. If an idea jars with another, or with evidence from the text, everything must be re-examined--until it all fits together logically and consistently.
The interpretation must be as internally consistent as the literary work must be--the two go hand-in-hand. The jigsaw pieces fit easily, the picture is coherent. As Aristotle says in his Poetics, "In character, as in the construction of incidents, we must always seek for either the necessary or the probable, so that a given type of person says or does certain kinds of things, and one event follows another according to necessity or probability" (XV). The quality of art depends upon this consistency; similarly, the validity of critical interpretation is founded upon its consistency with what appears in the author's text.
An author is as free as anyone else to critique and interpret his/her own work, but there is no special validity to the remarks. Someone may ask me about my art, but nothing I say is of any particular note--not in terms of interpretation. Factual, yes: if someone states that the medium was watercolor, and I say that it was colored ink, I am right. However, if someone asks me why I drew such a subject or what meaning I intended--well, then, I am merely a critic giving my own opinion, which may be quite different from someone else's. The key is how each of us reaches the conclusion and the evidence to which each of us can point to porive the points. If the evidence is there, we are right. Or perhaps we're partially right. Or maybe we're wrong. My opinion carries no more weight: what I had to say as an artist is in the drawing--now we can discuss whether or not the artist expressed her ideas clearly and consistently. This is most obvious and understandable when there is the most basic conflict of interpretation of all: I despise my work, and someone else likes it, or vice versa.
How can an artist be wrong about his/her own work? It lies in the nature of creativity itself: art is produced by a conscious act, but it is fueled by the subconscious. Therefore, there is what is meant, and then there what is actually communicated. The critic steps forward to uncover what is communicated. An author is welcome to join that process, but it is a separate, distinct process from the act of creation. The author who comments upon his/her own work joins the ranks of the outsiders examining it. The author is not the novel; the novel is a separate entity, which, to be art, must stand alone, on its own merits. Gustave Flaubert said it most succinctly, "L'homme n'est rien, l'oeuvre tout."
Is Snape a hero? Yes. The novel says so.
Works Cited
Aristotle's Poetics: A Translation and Commentary for Students of Literature. Trans. by Leon Golden, Commentary by O. B. Hardison, Jr. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1981.
Flaubert, Gustave. Letter to George Sands. http://www.etudes-litteraires.com/flaubert-art.php
Frye, Northrop. "Polemical Introduction," Anatomy of Criticism. www.noteaccess.com/Texts/Frye/Intro.htm