This is part one of an interview with John Harris, author and columnist for Dooney's Cafe:
CBT: Literature is in trouble -- that is, more trouble than usual. Why do you think this is? The increasing prevalence of TV? The distractions of increasingly narcotic subcultures such as video games? Sept. 11? The Crash of 2008? Or is talk of the "death of literature" simple exaggeration?
JH: It’s not likely that literature is in
trouble. It’s just that the ways in which we use written language, to make and
present stories and song, change. This makes us literary writers uncomfortable.
When we’re uncomfortable we tend to conflate ourselves with our art. If our
royalties are going down, literature is in trouble. If we can’t get published
as easily as before, literature is in trouble. If we can’t get jobs in the
English Department because enrolments are collapsing, literature is in trouble.
If repressive regimes enforce censorship, literature is in trouble. If the
economy tanks, literature is in trouble. If multinational publishing houses
flood the market with crap novels, literature is in trouble.
Thinking like this is pretentious, and it
confuses us. One thing we need to remember is that there’s a fairly convincing theory
of art that holds that the more uncomfortable writers are, the better they
write. Maybe literature would be better off if writers were in more trouble. Sharon Thesen put it this
way at the 1984 Winnipeg Writing and Performance conference:
Poetry’s identity
with social crisis and crises of meaning will always guarantee both its
vitality and its general unpopularity . . . . In future, poetry may become less
a “discharge of psychological evil-being” and more a homeopathic infusion into
a healthy body politic, but his may mean the disappearance of (lyric) poetry as
we know it — an occurrence I can’t say I look forward to. But that is the
unsettled and questionable subject of poetic language speaking, that would
rather have Artaud than Utopia.
Literary writers in Canada and other
relatively free, prosperous and peaceful countries actually are in trouble, but in ways that are
good. They are facing technical challenges connected to the platforms on which
they deliver stories and songs. The Elizabethans faced similar challenges, in
having to convert from manuscript to print circulation, from patronage to
profit, from the church or schoolroom venue to the playhouse and a mass
audience.
This goes back a long ways. With
literature, writing as compared to speaking or singing increased in importance with
the invention of paper. There was now a way of communicating across large
spaces and over time, which was important to business, law and government.
Society facilitated written communication by teaching reading and writing. All
of this provided extra opportunities to people who invented stories and song
lyrics and wrote them down. They could appeal to a larger audience. They could
get jobs doing what they liked to do — at least the talking-about-literature
part. They had stimulating new technologies to play with. Writers in one
country could read what writers in another country were doing — the English,
for example, in the fifteenth century, reading the Italians.
When the printing press was invented, writers
could have books of poems and stories mass-produced and sold in the market. This
enabled them to dominate other artists. Musicians and singers had to get
audiences to come to listen. Painters and sculptors had to get people into
galleries. Playwrights had to get audiences to the theatre.
Now there are marketable platforms for
plays, music and sculpture, making things fairer for other artists and
providing even more stimulating challenges and technology to story-tellers and
song-writers. To talk of these platforms as being “narcotic,” as compared to the
printed page, smacks of sour grapes. It implies that audiences are not to be
enticed into reading or listening to poems and stories but forced because they
are, essentially, stupid. They don’t know when something’s bad for them. Writers
with this attitude may be conflating writing and teaching, taking a classroom
of students to be a real audience. They are not. Audiences have to be
entertained.
Certainly scientists should look at what
various media of communications do to the mind, just as they might study
certain narcotics, and certainly if problems are suspected governments should
act. But writers don’t know enough about CAT or MRI scans to provide any
direction in this, and some (Yeats, Frost) believe that it’s part of their job
to put readers into a trance. Some evidently believe it’s part of their job to be in a trance.
Shakespeare wrote extremely sophisticated
plays in extremely sophisticated English that appealed to both the educated and
the uneducated. Likely he spent more time understanding that audience and
writing for it than he did complaining about it. Money was an important
motivator.
So, no “death of literature.” “Death of the
book?” So what? Homer did okay without it. Shakespeare didn’t pay too much
attention to it, though he made sure that his lyric and narrative poetry got
published. For lyric and narrative, that’s where the money was. Now, maybe the
computer screen is better. The audience decides these matters, not the writer,
and it decides it through its purchases.
[cont'd]
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