ENG 6283: Narrative Theory

Here's the rub: At the center of narratives/stories/rhetoric/whatever you want to call it, there is a speaker, a claim, and an audience. The speaker has a certain context and idea they want to transfer to their audience, and that speaker must also interact with circulating contexts, ideals, and expectations that exist within their audience and environment they choose to share their message. Within every interaction or shared message there’s a statement that is trying to do one (or all) of the following:           Entertain           Inform           Persuade           Educate What I propose is this: Yes, Abbott is correct in saying that "All fiction can be profitably regarded as argument." However, I think the context surrounding the fiction can alter the appearance or acknowledgement of the fiction/argument by the audience. If the context or environment surrounding...

“All fiction can be profitably regarded as argument.” Agree, disagree? The minute I began pondering this question, a steady stream of fiction I’m familiar with proceeded to crowd my thoughts. Books that show rather than tell a point of view, creations of new worlds, better worlds, worse worlds, stories told in chapters or diary pages, poems with made up narrators that collect like photographs tears or joys on the page. Don’t they argue? Do they? So, let’s say for the moment that fiction does serve as a platform well-suited for argument. What is this “profitably regarded” nonsense? Must an argument be profitable to exist? Profitable in that it makes money? That’s silly. Profitable in that it invites opposing conversation? Maybe. So why must an argument be profitable to be regarded? Regarded where? Where is this mysterious arena where we are regarding fiction, assuming that all fiction inherently holds a stance in an argument?  Anyways, isn’t everything an argument? After...

I begin my year trying to break habits. My students come to me having spent the last year writing rhetorical analysis and persuasive writing about authorial intent. They focus on nonfiction in AP Language and Composition, while my class focuses on fictional literature. I have to get them to stop thinking solely about the author and the moves they make and switch gears into thinking about the characters, theme, and poetic language. It is always a rough transition – for everyone involved. Then I let them in on the magical secret of AP Literature. It’s still an argumentative paper. That really makes them mad. You’ve just spent 3 weeks telling us NOT to do that!  Sort of; they always miss the point. But that's ok. Our purpose has changed , I tell them. Our modes have shifted. But it is still an argument! Every paper you write has a thesis. Every paper you write is trying to prove a point. Whether that is about the importance of a symbol or the author’s use of emotional appeals fo...

“All fiction can be profitably regarded as argument” The OED Online defines “profitably” as: “with advantage or benefit; usefully” ("profitably, adv."). “Profitably” caught me off guard, but when I consider it in this junction, I’m inclined to agree. I found this quote in a work by Ronald Sukenick called Narralogues: Truth in Fiction . Sukenick makes this argument after establishing that he finds “significance” through the narrative as opposed to the plot. When I originally read the word “profitably” I felt myself wanting to be in disagreement with the claim because of the monetary implications of “profit.” Then again, I found it hard to make a case for a work of fiction that didn’t stand to gain from profit. We all have writings (and maybe even written narratives) that we don’t plan on showing to the world, but it’s hard to imagine not being willing to exchange those writings when offered money. That’s not an ideal way of thinking, but we don’t live in an ideal world. ...

Given that I've written my entire thesis with the idea in mind, I'm inclined to agree that all fiction is argument. Then I remembered that books like The Very Hungry Caterpillar exist. The star of many storytimes over the past 50 years ( x ) It is fictional, and certainly has a narrative in the sense of a defined sequence of events, but the idea that it's an argument is not an easy one to accept. Instead, I'll say that all fiction not intended solely as education is argument. This still includes books at any level of reading as long as the narrative is meant to entertain over instruct. I say this because when we create a fictional narrative, we are making an argument about our beliefs. Whether we mean to or not, the ideas that help shape who we are will be present in fiction. By incorporating these ideas, a writer is advocating for the audience to listen, to agree with or maybe challenge these ideas. They are saying, "Here's what I think? How about yo...

I ’m going to start this blog post with a little bit of narrative time travel. We are back in week two of this semester. We have all just gotten our first glimpses of narrative theory through the five assigned readings. Some of us were a little frustrated, some of us thought we understood more than we actually did, and some of us sat back and thought, “Holy crap, what have I gotten myself into?” Then we logged into Canvas and posted on the discussion board. It was the most active discussion board I have ever been a part of but, as I look back at it now, I realize just how little I knew at the beginning of the semester and how much I’ve learned over the past ten weeks. I was very adamant that not all narratives provided counsel. I focused on Walter Benjamin’s “The Storyteller: Reflections on the Works of Nikolai Leskov.” I argued, “Not every story is told to give advice or produce a hidden allegory. Sometimes the storyteller is really just telling her audience about a visit to the mall...

Is fiction a kind of argument? Yes. Yes, it is.   Verdad!  So true. Then, last night I watched “The Comedian,” the premier of the latest reiteration of the popular 1960s-70s TV show,   The Twilight Zone.  In the 2019 update, stand-up comic Samir Wassan gains a superpower: If he tells a true story about people he knows, he gets lots of laughs; he rises to the top at the comedy club where he performs; he’s on his way to fame and fortune. But in telling these stories, he destroys lives, because every time he tells “jokes” about real people,   they disappear. They cease to exist.  Creepy classic   Twilight Zone  stuff. What does the comedian do with this power? Get rid of bad people he knows. How far does he go with this power? After all, when Samir first uses it, he disappears his girlfriend’s nephew, an innocent 10-year-old boy who loves comedy. On the other hand, is it  bad  to get rid of a fellow comedian who, while drivin...