COLUMN: "Literary Delusions"

From Caren Lissner's "Storm and Stress," Fall '92 English majors have a tendency to find things in classic literature that aren't really there. In trying to come up with a unique paper topic, we are often forced to instill meanings in passages that the author probably never intended. Usually, this works, because the professors have been doing it for years. Does the last sentence of the above paragraph have a double meaning? It didn't when I wrote it, but now that I look at it, it's an obvious sexual reference. I've learned to spot them a mile away, with the help of some eagle-eyed instructors from the required English major courses 200, 201, 202 and 203. In English 203, we learned that a sentence in a 17th century novel about how "sunlight penetrated the forest," was "obviously" -- meaning "if you can't see it you're an idiot" -- a phallic reference! Of course, when the professor said this, half of the class nodded in agreement. Now, why are English professors and students so obsessed with phallic symbols? I can't answer this question. Trying to figure out the minds of any group of people who hold "The Heart of Darkness" in high esteem is beyond me. I've had to read "The Heart of Darkness" five times. This novel by Joseph Conrad -- who is an obvious Christ figure because of his initials -- is considered to be one of the greatest works of the 20th century. I can understand why the novel is worth studying, but I'm fed up with being taught why I should be enjoying something I'm not enjoying. "The syntax of things will never wholly kiss you," wrote poet e.e. cummings. (Check out the hidden meaning in his name.) I don't know who decided what is classic literature and what isn't, but they were too worried about finding hidden meanings in novels to let themselves be kissed by them. Call me crazy, but I don't like to struggle to enjoy a novel. Reading three pages of "The Heart of Darkness" is like crawling on a conveyor belt that's going in the opposite direction. Granted, it is obvious that authors 500 or even 50 years ago had different writing styles than the writers of today, but there are plenty of works from 1700 to 1900 that I've enjoyed with little or no effort. My biggest complaint, I guess, is that no one else will ever admit that they just don't like one of the all-powerful classic novels. For English 83, I had a professor who said that he did not enjoy two of the novels we were going to read in class. It was the first time I'd had a professor who admitted anything like that, and it was refreshing. I enjoyed the class a lot more knowing that I didn't have to pretend to worship every piece of literature that crossed my desk. Are there people out there who can claim that they enjoyed "The Heart of Darkness" when they read it? Or the 17th century novel "Oroonoko?" Probably, but I'll bet that of that bunch, some of them convinced themselves they enjoyed it. Others just respect it. Some are lying. And maybe some really find sailor Marlowe's descriptions of the evil Kurtz interesting. But I personally will not lie to myself anymore. I'm glad Kurtz died at the end and "Oroonoko" got castrated. (Sorry, I guess I just ruined the movie versions for you.) And how about Moby Dick -- a phallic reference if I ever saw one. While reading about the joys of immersing one's hands in whale semen is interesting, some of the more important passages in the novel are mired in a swamp of technical whaling terms that make me want to blubber. Now how could I, an English major, possess such opinions? Well, most classic literature deserves to be considered classic. It has staying power, universality, originality and, best of all, it's somewhat readable. One of the best English classes I had was a freshman seminar, "Crisis of Identity in Modernist Fiction," with Professor David McWhirter. We read interesting, relevant works by Dostoyevski, Woolf, Kate Chopin and a host of others. But only a few of those works made it to other classes I took. The other novels were just too modern, I suppose. As a side note, Professor McWhirter and his wife left the University a few years ago, taking with them one of the last decent film courses to exist here. Ellen McWhirter taught a Hitchcock course, and the Communications department offered "Monday Night at the Movies." Neither department replaced these courses or offered any additional courses related to popular culture. After all, movies certainly aren't as important as ITALIC: Oroonoko, Slave of Many O's. Screenwriting was offered for the first time this semester, and over 40 people tried to get into a class that only had room for 15. In the end, the class size was expanded, but that cuts down on the seminar environment. It is time for this school to allow a few more "non-intellectual" courses into its roster, because there's obviously a demand. Who says screenwriting isn't as important to some people as Shakespeare is to others? Probably the same people who walk around declaring, "Ahem, I don't watch TV or go to the movies. It's all garbage," when there's some perfectly good stuff on the tube and screen. This is not to say that "Gilligan's Island" is a viable alternative for "Robinson Crusoe." The fact that some people on this campus would consider it an alternative is scary. Last week, the DP ran an article about freshmen who decided not to read Frederick Douglass' slave narrative because they "don't like to read." The fact that there are people at this university who can't read one short narrative in an entire summer is unbelievable. I thought that stuff ended with high school. What kind of people get rejected from this university -- people who need two summers to read a book? But, getting back to my original point -- who is to say that something widely read now will not be considered classic in 500 years? Who is to say that certain high-quality TV shows will not become the focus of literature classes in 200 years? It's about time that students had the courage to stand up in an English class and announce that the emperor isn't wearing anything. There is hidden symbolism most classic literature, but not everything has a double meaning. Does it mean that I'm stupid because I haven't convinced myself of the value of every line of "The Heart of Darkness"? I don't think so. I think we have to have more variety in what we read for class, and I think we have to stop dismissing the more enjoyable novels and entertainment media as insignificant. We must also stop searching for symbolism where it doesn't exist. There are many mysteries of literature that have been overlooked for years. If you really want to write a good paper, spell poet T. S. Eliot's name backwards without the S, and try to figure out exactly what he meant by that. Caren Lissner is a senior English major from Old Bridge, New Jersey. "Storm and Stress" appears alternate Wednesdays.