Classics and the Western Canon discussion

If you're reading Stephen Mitchell's translation, you're out of luck here, because he leaves this entire book out of his translation.

I agree, it's a somewhat weird book. But there are also some interesting things in it to discuss.

I love the start of it -- I find it so totally realistic in the ways in which the various primary figures are getting through the night.

I love particularly Pope's opening lines of the chapter.

All night the chiefs before their vessels lay,
And lost in sleep the labours of the day:
All but the king: with various thoughts oppress’d, 214
His country’s cares lay rolling in his breast.
As when by lightnings Jove’s ethereal power
Foretels the rattling hail, or weighty shower,
Or sends soft snows to whiten all the shore,
Or bids the brazen throat of war to roar;
By fits one flash succeeds as one expires,
And heaven flames thick with momentary fires:
So bursting frequent from Atrides’ breast,
Sighs following sighs his inward fears confess’d.

Everyman wrote: "If you're reading Stephen Mitchell's translation, you're out of luck here, because he leaves this entire book out of his translation.
..."

What? So if you're reading his translation, what is in place of chapter 10?

"I'm sorry due to it's strangeness I have decided not to translate book 10"?

Or is book 11 in it's place?

I found this book more entertaining than the other books where there is fighting and death. I liked the covertness of it all. Also I didn't have to keep too many people straight.
Interestingly, the Thracians killed were not given a background story, just nameless soldiers and King killed in thier sleep. Is this because they were neither Trojan or Greek?

(Now you'll probably let me know that that is book 11 and my translators also skipped book 10)

Mitchell's translation is based on a certain scholarship which has separated "authentic" parts of The Iliad from later accretions.

Juliette wrote: "Interestingly, the Thracians killed were not given a background story, just nameless soldiers and King killed in thier sleep. Is this because they were neither Trojan or Greek?
"

Yes, that is indeed interesting. I had not thought about it being because they were only allies of the Trojans, but it makes sense.
]
And/or, maybe, because since they have just arrived, and so haven't yet met any of the Greeks, they haven't become people worth including as people in the Greek minds.

Bill wrote: "Mitchell's translation is based on a certain scholarship which has separated "authentic" parts of The Iliad from later accretions."

Yes, I know. Scholarship which is hotly disputed by other scholars.

As far as I'm concerned, the Iliad is what we have been reading for 2,000 years, whether or not it's what Homer actually penned himself, if there even was a Homer who penned (or dictated) anything.

But I shouldn't get sidetracked into that discussion -- it's bad for my blood pressure!

Juliette wrote: "I found this book more entertaining than the other books where there is fighting and death. I liked the covertness of it all. "

It's a comforting interlude, isn't it?

And in line with what I posted in the Book 9 thread, if the poem was recited over a 3 day festival, a natural break would come after the Embassy to Achilles, a cliffhanger if you will -- what will happen to the Greeks now? -- and Book 10 would be a good relaxed beginning to the second day of recitation. That's all speculation, of course, but fun speculation!

Deloss wrote: "Going forth in the nighttime to kill the Trojan allies seems so uncharacteristic of the foes in the battle. Night had seemed a sacred barrier and yet it is violated first by the Trojans and then t..."

Good point, I had forgotten that there was a big deal made about darkness coming when Hector was fighting Ajax and so the fighting stopped.

Juliette wrote: "Deloss wrote: "Going forth in the nighttime to kill the Trojan allies seems so uncharacteristic of the foes in the battle. Night had seemed a sacred barrier and yet it is violated first by the Tro..."

I had assumed that both sides stopped fighting at night because wouldn't be able to see well. I look forward to finding out about this Thracian night attack you people are talking about.

Everyman wrote: "I love particularly Pope's opening lines of the chapter.

..."

Wonderful. Fagles captures Agamemnon's state of mind well too. One can almost feel what "desperate straights" Agamemnon and his men are in:

"his mind kept churning, seething.....so thick-and-fast the groans came from Atrides, /
wrenching his chest, heaving up from his heart
and rocked his very spirit to to the core....

Agamemnon marveled in horror...

he tore out his hair by the roots...

he looked to Zeus on high"

I have felt that way myself before..."no way out, no way out, what shall I do? what shall I do? no sleep no sleep no sleep...Oh Zeus...what shall I do?"

I feel for Agamemnon here.

I don't know if this is meant to speak to their respective characters or not,

but I couldn't help but notice:

When Agamemnon rose, first, he was all about the dressing, especially prominent was perhaps concern for his own appearance: "round him slung the glossy (nice detail) of a big tawny lion, swinging down to his heels (another nice detail)" and ending with [he] "grasped a spear" (Fagles 10.27).

Menelaus couldn't sleep either. But the description of Menelaus begings with concern for his men...and his knowledge that the men were there for him, for his cause "comrades, who crossed a waste of seas for him" (Fagles 10.30+)

EDIT ADDED: Does Agamemnon have an overriding concern for appearances?

Stealing.

Translations vary. Nestor hears someone (Agamemnon) and calls out: "Don't steal on me in silence--" (Fagles 10.98).

Perhaps it's just this translation, but I wondered if this might be Homer reminding us of what caused the war: stealing.

Raiding might be manly...but stealing (Paris's stealing Helen) is not admirable.

Adelle wrote: "Stealing.

Translations vary. Nestor hears someone (Agamemnon) and calls out: "Don't steal on me in silence--" (Fagles 10.98).

Perhaps it's just this translation, but I wondered if this mig..."

A more literal translation : "Do not come upon me without my hearing."

I like that you bring this up though, because it sets the tone for the whole book. The darkness, the spying and the counter-spying, the focus on Odysseus who is a shape-shifter in his own right... it's a dark and murky episode.

Patrice wrote: "OK, so I start re-reading book 10 and I think "Adelle! you were right!"

Line 68 Agamemnon gives his instructions:

"Give each man DUE RESPECT. Let not your spirit be HAUGHTY, but let it be you ..."

Shouldn't Agamemnon have gone to Achilles himself rather than sending a delegation?

What I thought was just a gory detail I now realize was a bit more pointed. After Dolon capitulates to Odysseus' interrogations, telling him everything and more, Diomedes strikes off his head and it rolls away, still talking. Even in death, Dolon can't stop talking.

I enjoyed this chapter; it was nice to see Agamemnon as human for once.

I noticed that while the accounts of the Achaeans and the Trojans planning their spying missions are generally parallel, the Achaean hero immediately asks for a companion, while the Trojan hero wants to go alone. What's Homer trying to tell us about their respective characters? Is wanting to work with a companion seen as more noble, or sensible? Or is it just done here to show up Dolon as a self-centered but ultimately cowardly fool?

Rosemary wrote: " I noticed that while the accounts of the Achaeans and the Trojans planning their spying missions are generally parallel, the Achaean hero immediately asks for a companion, while the Trojan hero wants to go alone..."

I hadn't noticed that, but it is interesting. What occurs to me is that the Trojans still have their Achilles-- Hector -- and all he needs to say is "Go!" and off Dolon goes, inspired by the thought of glory. Without Achilles the Greeks are more hesitant, more careful, make a plan, assemble a team, and are in this case more successful. Of course it is Diomedes and Odysseus, and Dolon is hardly a match for them.

Patrice wrote: "We all have the text. We all can read. Thomas can read the Greek, which is the huge advantage. We are all human. We can all relate."


Well said! My approach (and the approach of the group, to some degree) has always been that "Great Books" can speak to us directly without intermediaries. Homer can certainly do this, and my belief is that commentaries are helpful with small details (as is reading the original language) but are ultimately unecessary. The power of a book like the Iliad is directly accessible. The "authority" is the book itself.

As for why the Greeks are so "foreign," I don't get it either. I don't know what "foreign" means in this context. The story of the Iliad is intensely human in ways that have never changed -- it's why we can still relate to it so well. What's so foreign about it?

Rosemary wrote: "I enjoyed this chapter; it was nice to see Agamemnon as human for once.

I noticed that while the accounts of the Achaeans and the Trojans planning their spying missions are generally parallel, t..."

Maybe it's meant as a.. foreshadow/ link to Troy's defeat- they were no match for greek intrigue? and maybe initiative? when diomedes requests a companion many volunteer, but nobody but Dolon seems to do so from the other side.
I liked this and he last chapter. a welcome change from the incessant blood and gore. this is more like something out of a spy novel.
I find the continuous mention of costumery in this chapter intriguing. How come they all specifically seemed to be putting on animal skins? Is it associated specfically with ummm.. wartime night-out wear.. or is it something Homer just decided to mention for the sake of poetry?

Thomas wrote: "Rosemary wrote: " I noticed that while the accounts of the Achaeans and the Trojans planning their spying missions are generally parallel, the Achaean hero immediately asks for a companion, while t..."

Or the Greeks are just smarter. Diomedes volunteers and makes the case that this kind of sortie works best with someone to watch your back. He's a smarter tactician.

At 24 Patrice wrote: "I finally got the Vandiver tape on the Iliad.

She starts out explaining how basically nothing is "known" and no two scholars agree on much of anything. Then she goes on to explain, very dogmatically, what everything means ..."

LOL.

As silver said, why read it through the eyes of other people who have read it?

I may be a loner here, but I view it differently. While I do try to read the text before I read other material, I find the background material, the side material, the interpretation of others to be invaluable. The work is flat without it. For me at least.

In a way, that's why we're all here, it seems: to hear the perspectives of others, to question and re-calibrate our own initial interpreation.

I tell you, I would compare the task of reading---and gleaning all I can from the process---as similar to owning a car---and doing maintenance and repairs on that car.

Sure, it's my car. And in an absolute sense, I can just look it over and come to my very own conclusions as to how I should maintain and repair it.

OR, I can read the manual written by people who have studied the car for years...who understand carburators (literary devices) or who understand the ignition system (say the backgrounds and known "histories/myths" of the characters being written about) or who understand the actual history of the cars...ie, that certain parts or systems of the cars have a known history of breaking down or misfiring, etc (say historical background of the times and how actual history might have impacted and influenced the authors and what shared background knowledge the people who listened to or read the epics or poems or prose pieces probably had).

Personally---and this is just my opinion....I certainly respect the right of others to read a book however they choose, in accordance with whatever values they have...but I would feel that I was slighting a work if I didn't read all that I could about it---lol....with the time I have available, lol... Just my opinion, but it would seem to me like an act of hubris to try to go it entirely from my own limited point of view.

I'm probably only going to be here (on earth) once. If I'm going to spend time reading the classics, then I want to throw myself into it....Why do it if I'm not going to do it seriously? ---and there are so many....I won't have the time to read them 10 or 20 times each... It seems only logical that I would want to benefit from those who have gone before and who spent much, much more time studying the work than I ever will.

That's my defence of how I like to read.
Again, I know others view the process differently, I have nothing but respect for their reading as they see fit.

Adelle,

You wrote While I do try to read the text before I read other material, I find the background material, the side material, the interpretation of others to be invaluable. The work is flat without it.

Doesn't it depend on the work?

I can get a great deal from Plato reading without other texts - which does not mean other work isn't interesting or enriching. On the other hand if I were going to try read Kant's Critique of Pure Reason I'd want help, if not actual life support. I am happy to read Shakespeare without more than footnotes, but "The Waste Land," which I'm currently working on seriously, is very difficult for almost everyone.

On the other hand, to Patrice's point, there's something absurd about explaining that scholarly opinion is thoroughly divided and then dogmatically insisting on your own interpretation. :-)

Nestor wrote: "Adelle,

.."Doesn't it depend on the work?

I'll take your question as non-rhetorical. When it comes to a work more than...maybe 25 years old... When it comes to ANY classic.... No. For any classic, I want, at the very least, historical information.

As I said above, if others have a different preference as to how they read books, I absolutely respect their reading as they see fit. I just think that how I choose to read is also a legitimate way to read.

It wasn't rhetorical. I was curious. But just curious.

I was raised in the New Criticism -- which had particular ideas about what was proper to use as evidence in making arguments. I still tend to think about books this way, even though the New Criticism is highly unfashionable in the academy now. But then the criticisms that are fashionable don't usually interest me very much.

I guess I typically have certain questions and the issue is whether I can answer them on my own or not.

Recently though when rereading "The Great Gatsby," I was reduced to tears when trying to figure out what the book, charming and brilliant though it is, could actually be saying. I found the only way in was a combination of biographical and literary sources. And I became more interested in context. Interestingly though, when reading Tolstoy although I have a lot of historical data, I've never been moved to look at it.

Adelle wrote: "As silver said, why read it through the eyes of other people who have read it?

I may be a loner here, but I view it differently. While I do try to read the text before I read other material, I find the background material, the side material, the interpretation of others to be invaluable. The work is flat without it. For me at least. "

I alternate between both camps. In many works, I agree with those who say let the work speak for itself. But I also at times find learning from those who have great familiarity with the book useful.

For example, Vandiver has a very interesting lecture concerning the books just now coming up, about the battle scenes, where she talks about how the books can be viewed on two separate levels. On the purely human level, the battle makes perfect sense. People have moments of brilliance, they have moments of anguish. The battle sways one way, the battle sways the other. We can leave the gods entirely out of the situation and it makes perfect sense. But we are given the extra dimension of knowing that the gods are integral to the equation. A warrior gets wounded instead of killed not by happenstance but because a god intervenes. Hector stays out of the fight until Agamemnon gets wounded not because he is taking a breather and gathering his strength, but because Zeus tells him to. People's spirits quail not from natural fear but because a god instills fear into them.

Without Vandiver discussing this, I don't think I would have come to this on my own, would have come to the idea of looking at the battle entirely on the human level and seeing how it makes sense, everything can be explained, without any need for the gods, but then putting the gods back into it and seeing how they behave, how they interact. It's the offering of this perspective that adds to my understanding and enjoyment of these books.

That's just one example, but a fairly typical one.

Everyman --

Re: Your specific omments about Vandiver

This time around, I had that thought myself. Sometimes the gods seem just so much like personification. I felt it most strongly in the case of Aphrodite and Helen, but many other times as well.

My question is, what do you think the gods add? Outside of their being interesting characters, what does their addition say about Homer's vision of the world?

I think at minimum it says that this is very much a world beyond our control. This is a world where we are the playthings of forces which use us whimsically. This is true for everyone, even heroes.

It provides a tragic sense of life, particularly in a world where the afterlife, even for the greatest, is a pale reflection of the current.

It is also quite interesting to me that, even under these circumstances, or because of them, the greatest desire is lasting fame.

Another irony -- CLEARLY not intended by Homer -- is that all the characters in his work have actually achieved that. Here we are three thousand years later talking about them passionately.

Bill wrote: "This time around, I had that thought myself. Sometimes the gods seem just so much like personification. I felt it most strongly in the case of Aphrodite and Helen, but many other times as well.

My question is, what do you think the gods add? Outside of their being interesting characters, what does their addition say about Homer's vision of the world?"

That is, of course, one of the big questions.

Some scholars do make the argument that the gods are just personifications or explanations for normal behavior, and that works sometimes, but it doesn't work at other times, such as when Aphrodite picks up Paris from the battlefield and transports him to his bed. The key question here, I think, is did Homer expect his audience to believe that the gods were real and really acting as he says they were, and my own view is that the answer is yes.

As to what I think they add, I'm going to defer my answer until later in the work, but if I forget to come back to be sure to remind me to. It's a great question, but I think it's better discussed in the context of the work as a whole rather than less than half of it, though if others think it's worth starting to discuss now I certainly wouldn't discourage that (not at all intending to say that the topic can't be raised now, just that I don't feel personally ready to address it.)

Patrice,

I think, of course, one of things that makes reading it interesting is the tension between those separate ways of looking at it.

I suspect, and I can't give chapter and verse at the moment, but there was some ambivalence in the Achaians.

Priam says to Helen, directly, that he doesn't blame her he blames the gods. On the other hand, would that feeling be universally shared if we could poll the characters in the narrative? Helen blames Aphrodite, of course, in that great little scene between them. But she also seems clearly to blame herself. Is it because the action makes her guilty regardless of motivation or does she feel personally culpable?

Did Achaian parents say to their kids, "You have to stop blaming Apollo and take some responsibility for your actions?" Was it ever like "the dog ate my homework?"

The unseen forces of today are psychological motivation (the insanity plea) or physiological motivation (the "Twinkie" defense). The notion of "diminished capacity" in law is intriguing because it is not a plea that results in exculpation but a reduced punishment.

We remain ambivalent about it.

We still don't understand much about human motivation. In particular, we know very little about what prompts ethical behavior. We only know that it doesn't seem particularly tied to ethical belief.

Bill wrote: Helen blames Aphrodite, of course, in that great little scene between them. But she also seems clearly to blame herself. Is it because the action makes her guilty regardless of motivation or does she feel personally culpable.

This reminds me of your statement about how Athena did not know that Achilles would listen to her, and stay his hand against killing Agamemnon. Also someone else had a quote from Zeus in which he states something to the affect that men like to blame the gods for all their problems. There was also that early scene in which Agamemnon was sent a dream by Zeus to tell his men to fight, but instead he tells them toe flee.

I think all these things suggest that while the gods to have influence in the lives of men and can and do manipulate things to a degree, at the same time, men do not and are not completely subject to obeying the gods in all ways and all things. Men do have some ability of choice in their own actions, they are not absolute puppets to the gods. While the gods might tell them to do something, influence them, they have it within them the ability to act otherwise.

So while Aphrodite may have influenced Helen, and cajoled her into leaving with Pairs, it might have still been within Helen's power to resist Aphrodite and remain with her husband.

While on the one hand the gods were seen as existing in actuality and were genuinely believed in, on the other hand I think this also shows the way in which men do struggle with their own emotions and when one does act out wrongly because of own desire, want to try to blame it on forces outside of themselves.

Helen could have resisted the temptation of love, lust desire, but she was swept up in the moment, and after the fact seeing the consequences of her actions wants to than say. "Well it is Aphrodite fault, she made me do it, or led me into doing it"

Silver,

I believe that the lives in The Iliad are determined BOTH by personal responsibility and the gods. I also believe it's hard to know when it's one or the other.

I would also say that when you get a direct command from the gods it's a REALLY bad idea not to obey. This will not end well for you.

Bill wrote: "Silver,

I believe that the lives in The Iliad are determined BOTH by personal responsibility and the gods. I also believe it's hard to know when it's one or the other.

I would also say that whe..."

Yet at the same time obeying the gods is not always a promise of good fortunate either. If Helen had been able to resist Aphrodite and not gone off with Pairs, would some tragedy befall her? Perhaps!

But considering her position now, is obeying Aphrodite really proving better off? In some ways it may seem as if she suffers the worse for now she also has to live with her own guilt of what she feels is her part of the responsibility for what happened. If she had remained loyal to her husband, she could at least face what ill because of her knowing she choose the right course.

Yes, but we don't know what disobeying Aphrodite would have led to. Remember, Helen shut up quickly when Aphrodite lost her temper and threatened to make her hateful to both sides.

Bill wrote: "Yes, but we don't know what disobeying Aphrodite would have led to. Remember, Helen shut up quickly when Aphrodite lost her temper and threatened to make her hateful to both sides."

On the other hand, I do not think there would be any suggestions of possible guilt on the part of Helen if it was an absolute given that she could have made no possible choice whatsoever.

The acknowledgement of her feeling guilt, also acknowledges her belief she may have possibly chosen another course.

Also the fact that Aphrodite does have to result to threatening Helen into obeying her is proof that obeying the gods is not a given. Helen does not instantly jump at Aphrodite's command, she does show resistance, proving resistance is possible. The gods have to actually force or convince humans to do their will at times. They cannot just simply snap their fingers and be obeyed without question or complaint.

In this instance Helen choose that obeying Aphrodite was better than loosing the love of both Pairs and her Husband, but her obedience was not a given. She could have chosen otherwise, though the choice may not have been an appealing on.

Silver,

Yup. There's frequently two things that could be going on at the same time and it's difficult always to know what it is.

I should have written "shameful" rather than "guilty." that was my error. An act may be shameful simply because you committed it, even if you had no choice. It is difficult to know, from the outside looking in, what's happening.

Everyman wrote: "I alternate between both camps. In many works, I agree with those who say let the work speak for itself. But I also at times find learning from those who have great familiarity with the book useful."

Let me clarify that a bit. I'm not interested in critics who want to tell me what a book means. In that respect, I agree with Thomas that the the book should be allowed to speak for itself.

What I do appreciate is comments like "have you thought about looking at it this way?" or comments on historical context (from the Iliad itself I would not have been as aware of the great importance of the guest-host relationship and would have missed some of that subtlety), and things of that nature. Background and context (just as folks 2,000 years from now reading Dickens or Austen will probably need some help with context, social class structures, orphanages, and other vestiges of (to them) a barbaric age).

I also appreciate the comments of others here in sharing different approaches to the work, a focus on elements that I hadn't paid sufficient attention to, a perspective from a background that is unknown to me, etc.

But in terms of what the book means and how to integrate it into my life, I agree totally that the book should speak for itself, and that it is the interaction of the reader directly with the book that is key.

Bill wrote: "Silver,

I believe that the lives in The Iliad are determined BOTH by personal responsibility and the gods. I also believe it's hard to know when it's one or the other.

I agree. It seems clear to me that Homer and the Greeks (and Trojans) believe absolutely that the gods are actual beings, and that they interact physically with humans. This is, of course, exactly what the Jews of the Old Testament believed; Jehovah was a very real physical existence who made promises, controlled events, communicated directly with humans, and all that the Greek gods did.

(And there are plenty of people today who still believe precisely that, and they may well be right. But this isn't the place for that discussion!)

Everyman wrote, "But in terms of what the book means and how to integrate it into my life, I agree totally that the book should speak for itself, and that it is the interaction of the reader directly with the book that is key."

Well, hmmm. I absolutely agree that we don't have to take a critics word for what a book means. But a critic is arguing his case. We get to judge how good a case it is based on the evidence.

Sometimes other people can help you understand a text by pointing up patterns, showing inconsistencies, ironies, etc.

In something in a book I'm reading now (not about The Iliad ,) sometimes I think "absolutely!" -- why didn't I see that?" "sometimes I think true or false the idea an interesting way of reading the text", and sometimes I think "You've got to be kidding."

So I may be very interested in a critic's case for what a book means. I just don't know that I have to agree with critic.

And there's also this:

We've all grown up in scientific world where we've been trained to think that ghosts aren't real, magic doesn't work, etc. We could choose not belief that.

But at early stages of history, there's no choice. Science only is taken seriously when it's predictive, and 3000 years ago, there wasn't much in the way of predictive science.

I remember in the early part of Middlemarch where people are discussing medical opinons (not doctors) as though we'd discuss political ideas today. But in the early part of the 19th century, it wasn't clear that medicine helped more people than it hurt. It was only when the scientific basis for it actually predicted outcomes that it began to be taken seriously.

If you're asking me, I don't actually remember. If I had to bet, I didn't extrapolate it. It came up in some class or book. :-)

Patrice wrote: "I'm curious, where did you learn about the guest-host relationship? Was it extrapolated from the poem or was there another source?"

I beleive it is something that can be found in varrious other Greek myths. I cannot recall now off the top of my head if it is directly inferred within this poem or something of which it would simply be presumed that the original audience would already be familair with.

Bill wrote: "And there's also this:

We've all grown up in scientific world where we've been trained to think that ghosts aren't real, magic doesn't work, etc. We could choose not belief that.

But at early sta..."

On the other hand (not to diverge off topic) Metaphysics is a science that proves the possibilty of things which are termed "magic"

Patrice wrote: "I'm curious, where did you learn about the guest-host relationship? Was it extrapolated from the poem or was there another source?"

It's all there in Homer, the original source! It's easy to overlook on first reading, but the scene between Diomedes and Glaucus makes it perfectly clear. On second and third readings it becomes more obvious whenever it comes up.

Patrice wrote: "I'm curious, where did you learn about the guest-host relationship? Was it extrapolated from the poem or was there another source?"

I don't recall exactly, I got it years ago, but perhaps from my first listening to Vandiver's lectures perhaps 10 years ago. But others have also made the point.

Thomas wrote: "It's all there in Homer, the original source! It's easy to overlook on first reading, but the scene between Diomedes and Glaucus makes it perfectly clear. On second and third readings it becomes more obvious whenever it comes up. "

True. But as you say, the first time reader is likely to overlook it. And how many people other than the literary geeks here ever read Homer more than once???

Everyman wrote: "True. But as you say, the first time reader is likely to overlook it. And how many people other than the literary geeks here ever read Homer more than once??? "

I see your point, but I still believe that the commentaries and interpretive material should truly be a secondary experience. To use Adelle's very apt analogy: the first time reader should be seated firmly in the driver's seat with hands on the wheel and feet on the pedals rather than poring over the mechanical schematics. A first time driver can tell the difference between a Jeep and a Ferrari by the experience of driving the car.

Or put another way. Today I was listening to a lecture on Mahler's 9th Symphony, which I have never heard. The lecturer (who is very good and an expert in his field) began by talking about how the opening measures are a dramatization of Mahler's irregular heartbeat. Fascinating stuff, but at the same time I know I will never be able to hear those measures without thinking about Mahler's heart. Unless I forget this lecture, I will never hear this music free of this interpretation. No matter how true that interpretation is, I still feel a bit cheated. More educated, but cheated.

Not everyone feels this way about art, and I don't want to judge those who prefer to approach it with a guide. But it's not for me.

I don't really have firm principles.

Most literary texts I usually read without commentary or interpretative materials -- the first time around. If the text raises questions that interest me and I think I can't answer them myself, I'll look to critical material. If the book makes reference to historical personages I've never heard of or customs I'm not familiar with, I'll read footnotes.

If I really love a text, I might look at some of the critical literature to experience it more fully (although I'm not a big fan of critical literature, so it's not that often.)

Some of the landmark books of literary modernism, though, I need help from the get go.

But, as I said before, analysis is argument supported by examples, and I can agree or disagree. I certainly think we're all free to reject arguments that we don't think hold water.

What I don't understand, really, is why anyone would think we wouldn't be.

Patrice, are talking about history or literary criticism? In criticism all we have is opinion.

Thomas wrote: " Or put another way. Today I was listening to a lecture on Mahler's 9th Symphony, which I have never heard. The lecturer (who is very good and an expert in his field) began by talking about how the opening measures are a dramatization of Mahler's irregular heartbeat. Fascinating stuff, but at the same time I know I will never be able to hear those measures without thinking about Mahler's heart. Unless I forget this lecture, I will never hear this music free of this interpretation. No matter how true that interpretation is, I still feel a bit cheated. More educated, but cheated.
..."

Baaaah! As a musician who owns a couple of recordings of this I heard it plain in my head as I read your description and will never hear it the same again either.

And that's why I try not to read introductions or forwards until AFTER I've read a book. Far too often it colors the interpretation that I have while reading. I do read them, but not until after. One that comes to mind is Pillars of the Earth (view spoiler)[ in the intro the author states how he is an athiest and does not believe in God. Had I read that before reading the story, it would have greatly damaged my image of the good priest in the story. (hide spoiler)]

Sorry, Juliette! It's a fascinating detail, but I wish I had learned it long after I was familiar with the piece.

And why is that they are called "introductions" when they are almost always written with the understanding that the reader has already read the book?

Thomas wrote: "And why is that they are called "introductions" when they are almost always wri..."

One of my professors once said she thought "introductions" should be placed at the end of the book. She actually told us we should not read them until we have finished the work

Patrice, Juliette,

1) I think that it's always wise to distinguish between what's fact (there was a French Revolution) and speculation (the historical background to The Iliad is such and such.) But I've been aware of the problems of Ancient History for a long time. There's the ridiculous aspect of it. "We found a potsherd; let's rewrite history."

Of course, an historian should be presenting evidence -- and depending on the circumstances we may be able to make our independent evaluations. It's not always possible.

2) I think it's also important if reading criticism to distinguish between what unequivocally happens in the book (Alice meets a white rabbit and falls down the rabbit hole) and interpretation -- (Alice in Wonderland represents a metaphor of British colonial policy. No one actually believes that, I'm pretty sure, but you never know.)

3) When I read literature, I usually go at it myself first and last. One reason is that I don't think reading history, social commentary or criticism is typically my idea of a good time. I read literature because I like literature.

I'm only interested in ancillary information if I've already decided I'm extremely interested in the book or the book raises some questions that 1) I care about and b) I can't answer for myself. Ancient Greece is a little different because it's something I've been curious about since I've been 8.

Right now I'm looking at a lot of modernist poetry, and even though I've read more poetry than the average bear, I don't think I'm getting through it alone. Sometimes, as Diomedes points out, it's wise to take along a friend. :-)

4) But I just don't care about knowing about Mahler's irregular heart. It's just not that big a deal to me.

A poem a know very well, Keats' "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" has been interpreted by some feminist scholars as a rape. I think that's somewhere between a stretch and absurd -- but it does address a particular question (why is this woman crying?). However, it doesn't bother me knowing that. As I said, I'm likely to have read a work before I look at sources or criticism.

If I'm reading a serious work of literature, I'll often want to know the plot summary so I don't worry about what will happen next. I realize this is unusual. But at this point in my life I'd much rather focus on language and characterization and vision -- and not be distracted by moving too quickly because I want to know what happens next.

There are exceptions, Ford Maddox Ford's The Good Soldier is one where you don't want to know the plot before you've read it. It will spoil it for you to some extent. However, that's a rare exception.

And that's just me.