This has to be the second-best “very short introduction” I’ve read, after Roger Scruton’s introduction to Beauty. This book, unlike many others, actually started at the beginning, and started from a layman’s perspective. I have read others which I understood upon reading but forgot upon turning the page. This one will stick with me though.
I find comparative literature fascinating. Sometimes I love it, such as when you read something or hear something and are able to make an interesting connection between that text and others which, on the surface, are very different or even contradictory, but which somehow both say the same thing or address the same issue. The annoying side of comparative literature is that late modernist obsession with showing off one’s ancient literature knowledge by making endless references to mythologies. I’m glad that that has died out, but it has been replaced by perhaps the only thing more annoying: endless references to pop culture. The thing is that at least ancient literature and mythology at least stood the test of time, it had something to say, it was deep, despite being overused. Today’s mythology of pop culture is both overused and shallow.
This book started off with an example of early psychology I had almost forgotten about (rorschach ink blot tests), in which our understanding of things is projected into them, instead of gathered from them. That is a pretty pessimistic view of things, but I liked how they pointed out that one of the earliest things we learn is (social) comparison. Expanding comparison beyond the bounds of literature was very helpful, as it somewhat reflects my “Recursive Reaction” theory, that of endless reactions to reactions to reactions. In relation to this, Comparative Literature is an attempt to idiosyncratically trace the “reactions to reactions” of the present into the past.
Another very helpful point was that comparative literature in its modern form was formed in the modern era as a sort of competitive literature between newly forming nations/empires (18th-19th centuries). In addition to “comparative” insinuating “competitive”, it also implies “contrasting”, often causing differences to be emphasized, and along that, disparities of claimed quality.
The author brings up a view from Goethe that "Only the proven conessoir should compare", which though I don’t dogmatically subscribe to, I think holds some truth. Like for example, why ask kids what they think of a story when they’ve only read a few dozen? When they’ve mastered hundreds, then what they say about stories might be worth hearing. I mean certainly they should attempt developing their comparative ideas, but those should be done within the bounds of assignments or papers, not wasting all this class time comparing the one story they’ve read with the only other story they’ve read. It just isn’t a good use of time or resources. “Implicit in [all schools, not just] undergrad comparative classes is the assumption you should start comparing right away”. And I have very mixed feelings about that.
The author, although a leftie, at least attempted to have some sort of balance in their writing, pointing out how comparative literature can be used by conservatives to uphold European culture, or for progressive ones like international solidarity with oppressed groups. One of the most interesting things they pointed out was something I’m interested in, i.e. how the same few authors tend to be compared again and again. Sure there are minor authors we’d like to talk about, but there’s just so many, and there’s only a finite time we have to live, so we can’t read everything. This is I think the primary problem in the postmodern era, our sheer overwhelming number of works we have access to
More wide-ranging concepts and comparisons can be made with a comparative literature approach than with a historically cohesive approach. (The flexibility allows new ideas, new combinations which is kinda the place that innovation thrives; namely the juncture of previously unexplored overlap between seemingly disparate topics). This is primarily done within two different frameworks: Periods vs regions. The historical approach (first approach) also necessarily also takes regions into consideration, but I think I prefer that one and find it more helpful. “The concept of a region is no less contested than that of a period”
Next the topic of Close reading vs distant reading is brought up, where Close Reading treats literature like art, and is its own authority; whereas Distant Reading treats literature in terms of trends and evolutions (vomit). Close focuses on aesthetics, distant focuses on sociology. This was brought into the conversation to frame the discussion about the canon, and the author brought up two guys I think I’d like: George Steiner, and Harold bloom: "politics replaces aesthetics as the principle arbiter [of the canon]". Others have noted a shift from sacred to profane model of criticism.
In terms of periods, the author pointed out how Postmodern literature is highly referential/intertextual, Modern literature could not exist without recourse to the comparative method, and that the old chronological formulation was Ancient, Middle (Ages), and Modern. 😱😱😱 Of course whenever trying to make categories for such huge epochs, there are lots of overlaps (Sorites paradox [heap of sand)]).
The part I really disagreed with the author of this introduction was when he claimed theorizing literature meant politicizing literature. After this he talked about “What the text "really means"” and other such pretentions. For example he seemed to be surprised that when you slap a filter over a text (such as a feminist, etc.), you are basically begging the question, you’re framing the reading so you can only get a certain reading. He claimed “To compare styles is to compare ideologies”.
Lastly, the issue of translation was raised, and I think that that’s really the core issue. Comparative lit is beholden to translation (except in very rare polyglot exceptions, of which I am not one). Translations are often seen as either that of fidelity (loyalty) or freedom. There are two opposite poles: Domestication vs foreignization, which means smoothing it out vs leaving the original flavor in. I absolutely detest domestication. Reading a foreign work should be difficult, even in your own language. That smoothing is little more than violence to the text, yet I feel like a lot of lefties really like those sort of translations and do those sort of translations, while it’s the conservatives who do very literal, accurate translations. I don’t really understand why lefties could put up with such acculturation and westernizing of world literature, but whatever. Translation not only makes comparison possible, but is itself a comparison (just like interpretation, and translation as an interpretation). Nietzsche’s The Birth of Tragedy was given as an example of this interrogation.
In the context of translation the book also discussed tradition. They said some cool stuff, like “New meaning is produced by new juxtapositions” and “Tradition as received and as invented” and “The canon is never ideologically neutral” (okay, sure, but why would that be a bad thing? You want a canon which is neutral to pedophiles?).
Ultimately comparative literature is well placed between other disciplines, and I agree with the author that it has a bright future. "If comparative literature is a compass it requires constant recalibration."
“How can one understand one’s era as ‘modern’ unless implicitly comparing it with the past?”
“With the right role models, anyone can aspire to a multi-polar perspective”
“Raise [your] sights above [your] comfort zone”
I appreciated that it ended with a gentle call to action like that, to read more widely and to analyze ideation across cultures and epochs. I’ve found it to be very intellectually fulfilling and an indispensable asset to literature analysis. Frankly, it’s hard for me to think about literature in terms other than comparison.