Herding Cats

Disclaimer: This is almost as scattered as the arguments presented in this week’s readings.

I won’t lie. This week’s readings had me stressed. I felt like I was trying to herd a group of kittens. Just when I had one idea pretty well down, five more would spring up and contradict everything I thought I had figured out. So when we are asked what is up with these narratologists, I’m inclined to ask the question, do they even know??

Seriously. For a bunch of incredibly smart people, no one seems to be able to find a way to describe the study of narrative in a way that makes everyone happy. This problem ultimately comes down to the question of what counts as a narrative and what gets left behind. I personally like Barthes’ inclusiveness when it comes to describing what could potentially be narrative. I think this is due to how I personally define a narrative – something that tells a story, regardless of the discourse, events, sjuzets, fabulas, or any other jargon associated with this discipline. This allows for the intersectionality between culture, class, gender, time, and age.

I think we are getting so caught up with labeling things, trying to find a formula that fits, that we are missing the point. Everything tells a story, regardless of how implicit or explicit the fabula is.

Bal touches on this when he asserts that, when using narrative theory, “the theory is some kind of machine into which one inserts a text at one end and expects an adequate description to roll out at the other.” This one size does NOT fit all point of view takes away the stress of trying to make everything fit neatly into a box. We are allowed, in this idea, to see what is actually present in the text, instead of trying to find things to make it fit our ideal.

Hernstein-Smith tackles this problem with the Cinderella Story dilemma. She wonders if a colleague of hers is seeing a pattern he wants to see, as opposed to what is actually there. This is a question that has plagued readers since the dawn of time, yet is still a valid and important question within narratology. Are we creating patterns in our examination of narrative that isn’t there? Are the curtains a symbol? Or are they just blue? Is something an archetypal story pattern? Or does it just have certain aspects that sort of look like the archetype if you tilt your head and squint?

Ultimately we have to remember what Bal says: there is no cookie cutter outline that narrative falls into. They are, as she calls them, tools which help create a “description in such a way that it is accessible to others.”