There are two problems with the assertions of critics like Hirsch.
First, their idea of the "correct interpretation" is arbitrary. They center the idea of 'correct interpretation' around authorial intent because that seems right to them, because intra-press western culture has attached a great deal of importance to the author. (It's not alone in this. A number of other societies have attached this importance as well. But, notably, Western culture between the Romans and the press did not.) But if one were to decide that there had to be a 'correct interpretation', there's no actual reason to fixate it on the author. Why not on the intent of the literary agent, or the editor, or the author's mother whose eternal love (or lack thereof) is that which the work (maybe) responds to?
The second is the lack of understanding of what actually happens when readers try to get back to authorial intent. Most readers do try to do this. (Some readers, us pretentious literature students, may say we don't.) But they don't get back to authorial intent; they get back to a character inside their heads who they think of as the author but never really is.
When Rowling first tried to get published, as is I think now pretty well known, her agent got her to change her publishing name from Joanne Rowling to J. K. Rowling specifically to hide from readers that the author of the book they were picking up was female. How many people read at least a couple of books of Harry Potter thinking that the author was male? Could they have truly gotten back to authorial intent, under that mistaken assumption? In fact, barring a psychic connection, you'll never really get back to the author. Even when someone like Poe writes something like "The Philosophy of Composition", tracing back over everything they did writing a story, you never know the accuracy or the honesty of their recollections.
I'm not one to buy too much into what I see as online fandom's obsessive interest in politically correct degradation of language, which is often no more than an inconvenience and frequently a method for bringing low those who try to present contrary and conservative opinions. To me, the arguments about authorial privilege re fanwork are increasingly ridiculous; they're so caught up, on both sides, with this pretentious, righteous language.
The bottom line is that we've already won. Fanfic has got out of the jar and there's no putting it back in. You can get along with the creators and the readers of fanfic or you can not get along with them, but the latter action means lower sales, means losing the loudest fans, means a lot of emotional investment into something you can't control. As a creator, you'd better have a really good reason for all that, since you can never hope to win.
A lot of authors, though, don't really understand what's going on. There's a fandom language that is spoken by fans, but a lot of writers don't come out of fandom. Their first contact with this culture is when people start writing about their stuff, and maybe the first thing they feel is the same as when you show someone something you've been trying to get just right for so long, and their response is, "Well, you need to fix this. And this, and this." And right next to them, their entire support structure, from editors to publishers, are telling them that their legal rights to their work may be endangered by the existence of that stuff.
I'm hesitant to turn that kind of person into the villain for class war. Remember that authors aren't used to being celebrities, and may not realize that every gut thing they happen to say to an interviewer about copyright is going to get turned into the fandom football, on top of which a dozen big-name-linebacker-fans will leap on top of in a huge, messy pile-on.
If something I said turned into that, from some community I didn't know, my immediate reaction wouldn't be to change my mind. It would, "Holy shit, those people are crazy."
no subject
Date: 22 Feb 2011 07:35 pm (UTC)First, their idea of the "correct interpretation" is arbitrary. They center the idea of 'correct interpretation' around authorial intent because that seems right to them, because intra-press western culture has attached a great deal of importance to the author. (It's not alone in this. A number of other societies have attached this importance as well. But, notably, Western culture between the Romans and the press did not.) But if one were to decide that there had to be a 'correct interpretation', there's no actual reason to fixate it on the author. Why not on the intent of the literary agent, or the editor, or the author's mother whose eternal love (or lack thereof) is that which the work (maybe) responds to?
The second is the lack of understanding of what actually happens when readers try to get back to authorial intent. Most readers do try to do this. (Some readers, us pretentious literature students, may say we don't.) But they don't get back to authorial intent; they get back to a character inside their heads who they think of as the author but never really is.
When Rowling first tried to get published, as is I think now pretty well known, her agent got her to change her publishing name from Joanne Rowling to J. K. Rowling specifically to hide from readers that the author of the book they were picking up was female. How many people read at least a couple of books of Harry Potter thinking that the author was male? Could they have truly gotten back to authorial intent, under that mistaken assumption? In fact, barring a psychic connection, you'll never really get back to the author. Even when someone like Poe writes something like "The Philosophy of Composition", tracing back over everything they did writing a story, you never know the accuracy or the honesty of their recollections.
I'm not one to buy too much into what I see as online fandom's obsessive interest in politically correct degradation of language, which is often no more than an inconvenience and frequently a method for bringing low those who try to present contrary and conservative opinions. To me, the arguments about authorial privilege re fanwork are increasingly ridiculous; they're so caught up, on both sides, with this pretentious, righteous language.
The bottom line is that we've already won. Fanfic has got out of the jar and there's no putting it back in. You can get along with the creators and the readers of fanfic or you can not get along with them, but the latter action means lower sales, means losing the loudest fans, means a lot of emotional investment into something you can't control. As a creator, you'd better have a really good reason for all that, since you can never hope to win.
A lot of authors, though, don't really understand what's going on. There's a fandom language that is spoken by fans, but a lot of writers don't come out of fandom. Their first contact with this culture is when people start writing about their stuff, and maybe the first thing they feel is the same as when you show someone something you've been trying to get just right for so long, and their response is, "Well, you need to fix this. And this, and this." And right next to them, their entire support structure, from editors to publishers, are telling them that their legal rights to their work may be endangered by the existence of that stuff.
I'm hesitant to turn that kind of person into the villain for class war. Remember that authors aren't used to being celebrities, and may not realize that every gut thing they happen to say to an interviewer about copyright is going to get turned into the fandom football, on top of which a dozen big-name-linebacker-fans will leap on top of in a huge, messy pile-on.
If something I said turned into that, from some community I didn't know, my immediate reaction wouldn't be to change my mind. It would, "Holy shit, those people are crazy."
Whoa, long.