This is a new blog for a new semester's first class; the topic of the class is"coming-of-age novels." I might say the class has three 'windows.' The first window is the circle in which the students sit. The second window is the words that they read. The window that dominates for any student is the unique window that each one brings.
The students might not notice it, but there is irony in this literary study. The students think that they are reading about the life of ancient another but really the students are looking at themselves. For example, when students read about a poor neighborhood of Dublin, some may imagine it with slummy shacks, some with tall but crumbling buildings, and some with gleaming but cramped and unsanitary tenement-houses.
Individual readers also make distinct character judgements. In A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce suggests certain interpretations of Stephen's actions, but each reader brings a special flavor to their perception of Stephen. This is based on a person's ideals; a frugal reader would likely have a different take of Stephen's money-spending than a less thrifty reader.
This might all seem obvious, yet the various aspects of personality that determine the way a reader interacts with a book are themselves the things which undergo a change during the coming-of-age process, and may even be influenced by the reader's current selection. For a reader who is his/herself coming of age, reading a coming-of-age novel represents a cause-and-effect circuit as the book changes the reader who changes the book which changes the reader and so on.
It's interesting to me that, generally speaking, high-school readers tend to sympathize more with Stephen when he's considerably younger than you are--in chapter 1, mostly. The high school reader looks back on his or her grade-school years with some nostalgia, and some sympathy for the bewildered and innocent boy trying to navigate this bewildering social scene.
ReplyDeleteThose same readers might recoil a bit at the older Stephen, in chapters 2 and 3, and this may have something to do with his various foibles hitting a bit closer to home. We wince, in part, in recognition.
I know that in my own case, I was pretty oblivious to the irony the first time I read this novel (as a seventeen-year-old with artistic sensibilities)--I took Stephen more or less at face value, and the novel as mainly supporting his view of himself as a misunderstood genius. Whereas now I see a good deal more distance between the author and his younger self, which I was not equipped to deal with the first time I read it (because I was likewise unable to view my own life with much irony--self-absorption is a symptom of adolescence). I continue to be impressed with Uni students and your ability to perceive the irony in this novel--even as you (maybe, sometimes) also see a true reflection of yourself in Joyce's portrait.
I agree that it's so easy to distant ourselves and think that we're beyond what Stephen's going through earlier in the story (chapter 1). I think it's because we're eager to grow up. When Stephen does get closer to our age, however, I find myself not being able to connect with him at all. I'm not going to pretend that I'm mentally there yet, but I'm glad that this establish it. I'm at this ambiguous age where I'm not fulfilling any of the duties or capabilities of an 18 year old; I guess I'm looking at Stephen to lead the way. (Sorry it turned into a off topicish rant:) )
ReplyDeleteWow, that is an incredible way to look at coming of age readers reading coming of age novels. I hadn't really thought about how I am effected by reading coming of age novels, but I think I am. However, one thing, if not the novel itself, that I feel causes me to change is just that I know I'm reading a coming of age novel.
ReplyDeleteI don't know how to explain this or put it into words, so sorry if this makes no sense to you. Before this semester I never really thought about coming of age, or I didn't see my growing up as 'coming of age'. But now that we're actually in a class, consciously reading a coming of a novel, the concept is now on my radar; with it on my radar I'm at least more likely to notice changes in my thought process and behavior that have to do with coming of age.
I really don't know if that makes sense or not, sorry, I just can't figure out how to properly put it into words.
I agree that a reader's impressions of Portrait (and other coming of age texts) may be colored by the characteristics of the reader, but that can be said about almost any work. Younger readers are more likely to derive genuine enjoyment from a coloring book, while those more experienced will probably prefer a novel. It does make for a more interesting class discussion, avoiding repetition of the same beliefs. Personally, I don't fault Stephen too harshly from what we see from the text. We get an inner view revealing beliefs that many would never voluntarily share and it's likely that most people harbor similarly unsavory thoughts.
ReplyDeleteI really like your point about everyone reacting to books differently based on their own personalities. This book made me really think about myself and my progression to where I am now. "We don't read the novel, the novels read us."
ReplyDeleteYour point about the "windows" is something I hadn't thought about before, but I agree. Our different ideas about what the character looks like or how (if) they change during the book are somewhat determined by our own coming-of-age. "Windows" is an interesting lens, too; you can see through them, but they still occasionally need cleaning -- kind of like reexamining our ideals, you know?
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