Category Archives

638 Articles
Uncategorized

Tradition and the Individual Talent: The Consciousness of the Past

Posted by Jeff Allred (he/him/his) on

T.S Eliot’s “Tradition and the Individual Talent” takes a closer look at the meaning of tradition and how it is inflicted into writing.  Eliot comes across as critical of the way tradition is viewed amongst critics (readers) as well as writers.

For example, he discusses a common disposition in which we, as critics shine the brightest lights on the parts of a piece of work which is the “most different” from the work of others in his field.  We nod approvingly towards something that is unlike anything we’ve seen before (in terms of art), in regards to the author’s predecessors.  Eliot emphasizes that is it not simply the predecessors but the immediate predecessors and goes on to say “we endeavor to find something that can be isolated in order to be enjoyed.”  He is saying as a critic or a reader, we earnestly await something that is exclusive of its genre.  The problem itself lies in the fact that we are blinded by this hope for exclusivity that we are unaware of the fact that the past fuels what we call tradition.

Eliot states, “If we approach a poet without this prejudice we shall often find that not only the best, but the most individual parts of his work may be those in which the dead poets, his ancestors, assert their immortality most vigorously.”  In other words, what we find different and special about the piece, has actually been “done before.”  And by done before, I mean that it is not unique or original but bears strong influences from the past.

While it seems obvious that Eliot is an advocate for crediting the past with the basis of what we consider tradition, I believe that individual talent in itself can also maintain its own ground.  Influence is present, yes, but Eliot is quite harsh is squashing the prospect of individual talent surpassing the talent and tradition of past artists of any sort.   One interesting portion of the essay is when he quotes “someone” who said, “The dead writers are remote from us because we know so much more than they did.”  In response to this, Eliot says, “Precisely, and they are that which we know.”  He basically makes it seem as if one is incapable of coming with original work in this day and age, when not every single thing is fueled by methods used in the past.  Although “dead writers” make up a large part of what we know (their works and histories) it doesn’t remain all we know.  Writers can derive from it and be creative from within themselves.

Furthermore, Eliot delves deeper into the process of obtaining tradition.  It cannot simply be passed down but he says, “…you must obtain it by great labour.”  I can agree with this because the past must be considered but then again as I mentioned above, it is not the only thing to be considered.  However, I do agree once again with Eliot’s notion in which he states, “What is to be insisted upon is that the poet must develop or procure the consciousness of the past and that he should continue to develop this consciousness throughout his career.”  The consciousness of the past, or the awareness of the great works of the past is crucial for the success of all present and future writers. Eliot strengthens his argument and uses the example of Shakespeare using “source material” from the ideas and knowledge of Plutarch.  It makes us wonder what would great writers be without having this consciousness?  Would Shakespeare be what he is to the literary world without having this awareness? Progress cannot be made without this awareness. The title of the essay makes it clear that tradition and the individual talent are related, however I find myself neither completely agreeing or disagreeing with Eliot’s theory.

Uncategorized

My Thoughts on Terry Eagleton’s “The Rise of English”

Posted by Jeff Allred (he/him/his) on

In “The Rise of English”, Terry Eagleton discusses a plethora of conflicting opinions, all masked as his own, regarding the standing and significance of English literature in society dating back to the 19th century. This is done when he cites literature as a suitable substitute for religion as the “cement” that holds the separate classes of people together and unites them on a single front, in addition to fulfilling the “need for a sense of national mission and identity”. All the while, he clarifies that literature has no permanence as a means of expressing deeply intellectual thoughts and major, possibly controversial, concerns and is predominantly a tool to “delight and instruct us”. These opposing beliefs are perhaps highlighted in this way to show the reader the complicated nature of literature, as well as its ever-changing role in our respective cultures.

I could not help but shift focus from the primary message in Eagleton’s essay to the peculiar way in which he constructed the sentences he used to convey that message. My curiosity was sparked by phrases such as “deep-seated a-rational fears and needs” that highlight his personal aversions to religion and its followers and the fact that it is an institution “closed to rational demonstration”. He shows his dislike for unquestioned thoughts and ideas put forward in the name of beliefs and for their use as a “pacifying influence” to calm whatever chaos may arise from members of the public who are on a path of true enlightenment. However, Eagleton expresses obvious delight at the period of time when it became apparent that religion was “no longer cutting it”, as they say, in suppressing the masses.

Eagleton also conveys hope when he says that, “[literature] could provide a potent antidote to political bigotry and ideological extremism”, a considerably hefty statement to make, showing he truly believes in the cleansing powers of studying English. This contradicts what he says later on in the text: “It is not the business of literature to communicate such beliefs directly”. At this point, I just wanted to understand what Eagleton’s opinion was. What was literature good for? Give me one coherent thought, please. The whole piece appeared to be a very eloquent verbalization of his stream of consciousness, if such a thing can and does exist.

As Eagleton spoke at length about the “feminine aspect” of the academic study of English and the hesitance of institutions and their leaders to consider it one of the “Greats”, as well as his mention that “the classicists [are] hardly keen to have this pathetic parody of themselves around”, a very specific image came to mind: that of the new kid in school, with his unfamiliar presence and an aura of mystery that envelops him and spreads unprovoked dislike and fear into the school children surrounding him, and thus pushing them to alienate him, keeping him from ever feeling fully accepted and appreciated. Although literature is, time and time again, showing itself to be a major contender in the field of intellectual conversational topics and focused scholarly examination, it is still regarded with much suspicion and a lack of seriousness.

Uncategorized

Literature in place of Religion: On Eagleton’s “The Rise of English”

Posted by Jeff Allred (he/him/his) on

In “The Rise of English,” Terry Eagleton makes the interesting claim that literature is an adequate substitute for religion. At face value, it’s kind of strange thing to say let alone trust, however, the more I contemplate and wrangle with the idea, the more I am willing to accept it.

Eagleton opens the chapter first by maintaining that literature is ideology.  It is a belief, a practice, and “has the most intimate relations to questions of social power.” Eagleton suggests that the decline of religion in the mid-Victorian period caused the growth of English studies. During this time, English was a way to cultivate the middle class and pervade them with the values of remaining aristocracy, and therefore becoming a way to pacify the middle class. Eagleton believes that religion is a simple but powerful form of ideology that is a “pacifying influence, fostering meekness, self-sacrifice and the contemplative inner life.”

The way I’ve interpreted Eagleton’s claim, though I’m not completely certain is accurate, is that a lot of what religious ideology provides for an individual, the emotional elevation, a life of contemplation, understanding and empathy for humanity, all of which are the visceral stirrings that occur internally, intellectually, mentally, and emotionally, is similar to what an individual may receive when they immerse themselves in literature, though perhaps without the actual act of worship.

Eagleton continues: “Like religion, literature works primarily by emotion and experience, and so was admirable well-fitted to carry through the ideological task which religion left off.” Eagleton touches upon something that’s really cool here.  He claims that literature has become the opposite of analytical thought and conceptual enquiry, which are mostly the concerns of scientists, philosophers, and the like. In contrast, just like people of faith, literary scholars are more in tune with the territory of feeling and experience. He continues: “Literature should convey timeless truths, thus distracting the masses from their immediate commitments, nurturing in them a spirit of tolerance and generosity.” Eagleton proceeds to display similarities in the inherent gratification and edification of religion and literature.

Literature is a way to experience places and feelings that are otherwise not always possible to experience in a person’s life.  This sort of vicarious self-fulfillment allows for empathy, to relate to the intricacies of the human condition, which is a major part of spiritual nirvana. In more ways than one, as Eagleton has pointed out in this first chapter, literature feeds us similarly to the way religion and faith feeds us.  To say that literature can be used as a substitute for religion may cause misgivings; however, for those of us who are steadfast students of literature and are inexplicably bound by the written word, there is no denying that there is something spiritual about our experiences with the art.

Uncategorized

The Perpetuity of the Past: My Analysis of T.S. Eliot’s “Tradition and the Individual Talent”

Posted by Jeff Allred (he/him/his) on

T.S. Eliot’s account in, “Tradition and the Individual Talent” explores a critical element of literary criticism, tradition, and its importance for imminent writers. Eliot fosters the idea that tradition is commonly disregarded and that as readers we try to find individuality and uniqueness in poetry or any work of art for that matter. However, he combats that approach with the indication that, “no poet, no artist of any art, has his own complete meaning alone.” A new work of literature has to be evaluated with its predecessors and its value depends on how well it adjusted into the framework of past works. This is where the notion of tradition steps in to provide an ever-changing timeline of literary works before the present that will in essence shape and guide contemporary writers.

Eliot defines tradition as, “a sense of the timeless as well as the temporal and of the timeless and temporal together.” In other words, the past and the present works should coincide in a way where the awareness of the existence of the past allows it to coexist side by side with the present. In this sense, a simultaneous order is established where the existence of the past understandingly affects the present but where the present also affects the past. This is where the temporal and timeless merge into a historical sense to create tradition and inevitably a simultaneous order. A writer gains access to tradition by writing, “not merely with his own generation in his bones.” Eliot furthers this by writing about how a writer must indulge in writings back to Homer and all others before the present to create a contemporaneous piece of literature. This involves cognizance of the past to balance the present. A writer must focus less on individuality to create a work that is a sort of literary allusion to those before it.

Eliot furthers this line of reasoning with a scientific analogy of two inert gases, oxygen and sulphur dioxide, that are combined in the presence of platinum to create sulphurous acid. The purpose of this analogy, I believe, is to prove his claim that to create a valuable literary work there should be no trace of the writer in the final product. Similarly, in the analogy of the gases the filament of platinum is left unaltered. He explains how, “The mind of the poet is the shred of platinum.” Both the platinum and poet’s mind are necessary catalysts because without them the consequent products cannot be made. I imagine that Eliot means that the poet’s mind is needed to make poetry but his individuality and personality should be absent from his work. This fabricates the idea that a writer must depersonalize his own work.

Eliot’s phrase that, “the more perfect the artist, the more completely separate in him will be the man who suffers and the mind which creates…” suggests that an artist may rely on experiences to aid him/her in writing but they really should not hold any place because then his/her work will suffer.  He also implies later on that emotion doesn’t have to be the writers own either. However, what I really found striking in my analysis of Eliot’s essay is his last line where he states, “Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.” This particular quote, in my opinion, seems like a jab at contemporary writers who write sentimental pieces with profound emotions because in actuality they may not really know what true emotion and personality really are.

I believe that Eliot would defend his claim, if questioned about how subjecting oneself to tradition ruins one’s individuality and creativity, by mentioning that there is a bigger picture at play here and that, “The progress of an artist is continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of personality.” The bigger picture is the simultaneous order of literary works. And when an artist has knowledge of the literary works before him/her and depersonalizes his/her work, an original piece of literature is created. And this relates to the critics job according to Eliot because it is the critics job to compare and contrast an artist’s works with past writers; not in an effort to downgrade or judge the artist’s work but to improve both simultaneously. It was difficult for me to comprehend exactly what Eliot left out but I believe he didn’t delve into the area of the “self” and a writer’s identity too well. He did mention personality but I believe in genres such as fiction, it takes the exploration of the self to create something riveting.

Uncategorized

No Father to His Style: T.S. Eliot and the Fetishism of Tradition

Posted by Jeff Allred (he/him/his) on

In T.S. Eliot’s essay “Tradition and the Individual Talent,” the writer attempts to dictate what constitutes literary tradition and how writers should be appreciated in that context. He makes reference to a “whole of literature of Europe from Homer,” his conception of a monolith of works deemed “historical.” These works are said to share a dichotomous nature, an ability to be appreciated both alone and in a context with other works. The meanings of poems, therefore, are inexorably tied to the poems of the past. According to Eliot, this makes a poet a continual incorporation of history and an expulsion of self. The poet is not a personality, he contends, but a “transforming catalyst” which synthesizes work from the distinct parts of emotion and feeling.

I didn’t fully grasp Eliot’s arguments for emotion and feelings as disparate things, but it seems like a loophole he built into his theory in order to discredit specific poets. Eliot envisions poetry as “an escape from emotion [and] personality,” stating that more “personal” poets have neither. I find fault in the argument that an individual is no more than a conduit for poetry, more an avatar than an artist.

This is the most interesting point of his argument to me, if only for how strongly I disagree with him. It immediately summons Eliot’s infamous history of racism and anti-Semitism, from which the essay’s Eurocentric views were surely born. He states that all poets must have this grounding in tradition, but that would very pointedly seem to omit women and most world writers. Eagleton’s comparisons of literary and religious ideology also came to mind when he prescribes “a consciousness, not of what is dead, but of what is already living;” Eliot’s reverence for the literary pantheon is hard not to take as idolatry. 

The religion-to-literature parallels then become far more fitting when you realize whom Eliot has purposefully excluded from his model: iconoclasts. They are written off as merely the “supervention of novelty,” to be homogenized and made historical. Countless iconic artists made their reputation by pulling Martin Luthers and rallying the like-minded and disenfranchised without evaporating into a fad. Remembering my favorite iconoclast, DJ Kool Herc (essentially the inventor of hip-hop), I realized that Eliot’s myopic viewpoints and self-righteousness have a perfect mirror in today’s day and age: Macklemore, the inescapably popular rapper. These two white men attempt to dictate what constitutes a universal tradition (Eliot by creating his whitewashed literary lineage, Macklemore by joining the ranks of “conscious” rappers and worshipping the styles of the ’90s), in the process ignoring the contributions of numerous peers and forebears. For every writer that Eliot places in his unified theory of rhyme, he narrows “tradition” to mean “my favorites.” Similarly, a rapper like Macklemore laments an imaginary decline in hip-hop and portrays himself as an alternative, a more traditional rapper. An artist who tries to dictate what constitutes “art” will always fail, because it’s a futile thing to attempt. There will always be something unprecedented. 

Uncategorized

How to publish your first post

Posted by Jeff Allred (he/him/his) on

The best way to learn how to post is to fiddle around in the dashboard until you get the hang of it.  But there are oodles of resources out there to get you up to speed, such as:**

  • The WordPress Codex is one-stop shopping for all WP-related problems and tips.
  • Novices might start with the excellent and brief video on publishing posts, and
  • those who want more options/detail could move on to the  introduction to blogging and then the “get published” lesson: both contain way more detail than you need, since I’ve configured everything and you just need to enter text. But for those who are curious, or who might like to include links, images, etc. in a given post, it’s very helpful.

**I’ve included this information in links as well for future reference

Uncategorized

What is a blog post? Why blog?

Posted by Jeff Allred (he/him/his) on

As you can see in the syllabus, you are responsible for making regular posts to this blog.  I do this in lieu of the kind of “response papers” many of my colleagues assign (and until recently I did to).  Why?

1. Blogging is sharable: rather than have a private circuit between you and me, we have a much more dynamic conversation across the entire class.

2. Blogging in public, sort of: I like the idea that we are responsible for our ideas in front of broader audiences.  In practical terms, I doubt anyone is listening in most of the time, but I think it’s important that we roll up our sleeves and defend our arguments in an open and public forum as often as possible.  And of course, you can show your family/friends/pets what we’ve been up to in class.

3. Blogging is sturdy: rather than forget the piece of paper once it’s been handed back, we can link back to prior statements or observations, or to each others.

4. Blogging is responsive: rather than only getting comments from me, you’ll comment on and get comments on each other’s work.

So what are you responsible for doing for Tuesday?  I want something short and pithy, about 400-800 words.  I want it to engage some part of the text (any or all of the readings by Eliot, Culler, and Eagleton).  I want it to have quotations and what we English types call “close reading”: careful attention not just to what is said, but how it is constructed.

Also, don’t be afraid to express confusion, doubt, frustration, and the like, so long as you do so via close encounters with the text that’s confounding you.  Rather than just throw up your hands and say “I don’t get it,” say “here’s what I don’t quite get” and/or “I’m not sure, but I think the text is saying X and Y” or “I’m not clear on how Z is working, but I find the following aspects of it interesting in some way.”

Below you’ll find an example of a good response with my comments in the margins.  It’s one that I mocked up myself, so don’t feel like this is the bar that I’m setting for you, especially the first time.  I just want you to see what a pretty good one looks like, so you know where the bar is.  DUE TUESDAY, 9/3 AT CLASS TIME.

[scribd id=164214939 key=key-2008aqo3h9215wi7sjm mode=scroll]

Skip to toolbar