LITERATURE: If on a winter’s night… – Reading Calvino to understand Barthes

Readerly/Writerly, Shmeaderly/Shmiterly.  Had Barthes proposed his theories in Calvino-speak, I would have embraced them more readily. My resistance was not completely due to my stubborn streak but as much, I would think, to his manner of presenting them.

Here’s Calvino:

I am sure this Lotaria (that is her name) has read them only to find in them what she was already convinced of before reading them.
I tried to say this to her.  She retorted, a bit irritated: "Why? Would ou want me to read in your books only what you’re convinced of?"
I answered her: "That isn’t it. I expect readers to read in my books something I didn’t know, but I can expect it only from those who expect to read something they didn’t know."
(Luckily I can watch with my spyglass that other woman reading and convince myself that not all readers are like this Lotaria.)
"What you want would be a passive way of reading, escapist and regressive," Lotaria said. "That’s how my sister reads.  It was watching her devour the novels of Silas Flannery one after the other without considering any problems that gave me the idea of using those books as the subject of my thesis."  (p. 185)

And yet Flannery (whose thoughts are those above) pronounces Ludmilla–not Lotaria–to be the ideal reader.  Ludmilla does not wish to know the author, she does not want to change her image of an author by compare/contrast methods of a meeting or further research.  Or so Lotaria claims.

I think the best statement here is this:  "I expect readers to read in my books something I didn’t know, but I
can expect it only from those who expect to read something they didn’t
know." 
It suggests the reader input–something an author cannot possibly be aware of–based on their experience, as well as their seeking a new experience from the reading. 

Put even more simply:  The reader giveth and the reader taketh away. 

This entry was posted in LITERATURE and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.