tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5455277388900637928.post3408545038283576373..comments2024-03-19T02:14:31.704-04:00Comments on <center>OnFiction</center>: Novel as FriendKeith Oatleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16419339550879570935noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5455277388900637928.post-89421887905280143482009-01-03T08:26:00.000-05:002009-01-03T08:26:00.000-05:00Thank you, Allan, for this comment. I had not thou...Thank you, Allan, for this comment. I had not thought of the importance of the idea of book-as-friend for people with criminal convictions in the Changing Lives Through Literature project (discussed in our post of 23 May 2008), but it makes absolute sense for those who have been marginalized from society.Keith Oatleyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16419339550879570935noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5455277388900637928.post-70010035121799410342009-01-02T10:07:00.000-05:002009-01-02T10:07:00.000-05:00I love the book as friend metaphor. I research the...I love the book as friend metaphor. I research the Changing Lives Through Literature (CLTL) program that sentences convicts to study American literature. The book as friend metaphor is another way to explain the impact that reading great works of literature has on these individuals--who have never had access to post-secondary instruction in their lives.<BR/><BR/>Great books are your friends. They talk to you when you have something on your mind and they allow you to explore new insights into your own thoughts. For CLTL participants, great books are friends they've never had, and, like a good friend, the books impact their lives for the better. <BR/><BR/>Thanks for the Booth citation as well,<BR/><BR/>AllanAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5455277388900637928.post-44492341266596895972008-12-31T10:23:00.000-05:002008-12-31T10:23:00.000-05:00Thank you, Rohan, for these thoughts. I agree that...Thank you, Rohan, for these thoughts. I agree that sometimes when one introduces two friends, they do not get on. And I agree, also that one of the important roles in teaching literature is to introduce people to books they would not otherwise read. I don't assume that I could never read a book that I haven't been able to get into before. In 2009, one of my projects is to extend myself into Faulkner, whose work has until now remained beyond my reach. As to Auster, I have read just one of his books. I think it was one of the early ones, maybe <I>The locked room.</I> I thought it was admirable in its accomplishment of a post-modern detective story (with an existentialist flavour of a kind that interests me) which at the same time engaged with identity, that central preoccupation of modern American literature. I seem to remember I found it quite absorbing, but although I notice when a new Auster comes out, and may read the review, I don't feel drawn to read any more of his books. With some other writers— George Eliot and W.G. Sebald—I think I have read almost every word they have written.Keith Oatleyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16419339550879570935noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5455277388900637928.post-42659762634705218942008-12-30T19:25:00.000-05:002008-12-30T19:25:00.000-05:00Similar problems can arise among (literal) friends...Similar problems can arise among (literal) friends: have you ever introduced two people, both of whom you really appreciate, who somehow don't hit it off? At some level, I suppose the answer to why people befriend each other, and their books, differently is something to do with our own unique complexities. Each of us brings so many layers of experience and character to each encounter.<BR/><BR/><I>There is a mental space, into which I do not manage to extend myself, so I can't join that person.</I><BR/><BR/>But you don't assume you could <I>never</I> manage to extend yourself in that direction, do you? I think the willingness to consider what makes the book worthwhile, on its own terms, is important. Often we need to be shown ways to read something (especially something unfamiliar, or unlike what we usually or easily appreciate) that bring its particular excellences into play. Actually, I think this is my most important job as an English teacher--to help readers new to particular (kinds of) texts find rewarding ways to read them. I have a dear friend who reads everything, at first, with a painful literalness, testing the book against the question "do things really happen this way?" Not surprisingly, she doesn't do well with Dickens, because that isn't really the best question to ask about his novels.<BR/><BR/>Still, even if we can be brought around to seeing why someone who likes that sort of thing would like this particular thing, we still won't like everything equally. I can see what so many people highly recommended Auster's <I>City of Glass</I> to me, and of its kind I think it is probably very smart. Still, it will never be a close book friend of mine.Rohan Maitzenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12111722115617352412noreply@blogger.com