Upon receiving Graphs, Maps, Trees in the mail at the beginning of the semester, I
found myself a bit bothered by the description on the back: “Franco Moretti
argues that literature scholars should stop reading books and
start counting, graphing, and mapping them instead.” Not exactly music to my English-majory ears. However, I found that Moretti is
presenting another way to learn about literature, and while I continue to have
a problem with his push for this quantitative method of study to replace our current
methods, I still found what he had to say useful. In this work, Moretti uses abstract models of things like
quantitative history and geography, things that we typically don’t associate
with literary criticism but instead provide a “more rational literary history”
(4). As much as I wanted to resist
this book full of numbers and maps – two things with which I am particularly
inept – Moretti convinced me that it would be worth my while.
First of all, it became clear to me just how limited my
scope of “literary knowledge” is.
I’ve spent so much time in English classes studying the canon, learning
about the “influential” books and theories that have come to shape my
understanding of literature, that I’ve failed to see the grand scheme of
things. What does it really mean
to say a book or novel is “influential”? Moretti helped me realize that to make
a claim about influence on literature is to put our trust into the remarks and
claims of the readers and authors, which is a problem because these people are
just as fluctuating and vast as “quantified” literary history is. Moretti’s use of graphs, maps, and
trees lets us see major trends across the whole spectrum of literature.
Yet I still resisted.
Last semester in our Theory & Criticism class, I saw how each new
theory to come along claimed to be better than the one before it, always being
re-invented as the best lens through which to view literature. I found myself always wondering, Why do
we need to choose one? For some people, certain theories get
them where they need to go, and Moretti’s graphs, maps, and trees get him to a
redefinition of literary history and aesthetic form. I think his method for viewing literature is invaluable to
the field of literary studies, but why suggest that it should replace all
previous methods and theories?
Moretti writes toward the end of the book,
‘Theories are nets’, wrote Novalis,
‘and only he who casts will catch.’ Yes, theories are nets, and we should
evaluate them, not as ends in themselves, but for how they concretely change
the way we work: for how they allow us to
enlarge the literary field, and re-design it in a better way, replacing the
old, useless distinctions…with new temporal, spatial, and morphological
distinctions. (91)
When he puts it that way, I guess I would have to
agree. He doesn’t necessarily want
us to continue to use the theory, but
would instead have us examine the theory as a thing itself and as a shaper of the quantitative literary history. It’s kind of neat, really, how Moretti
is able to step away from our theory-based literary studies and suggest we have
a look at the way our studies have shaped our studies. It seems an appropriate path of inquiry
for those of us looking to keep up with the advancement of literature.
No comments:
Post a Comment