for the last time, dear readers, I stress.
And I stress something that I have stressed many times now.
The way a piece of literature can be interpreted correctly is infinite.
INFINITE.
INFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINITE.
SAY IT WITH ME: “THERE ARE NO BOUNDS FOR CORRECT INTERPRETATION OF A NOVEL.”
And you know why? Because as times change, new ideas and new technologies are brought into being that can cast a new outlook onto the universe presented within the book. And even if society came to a standstill, each new person that picks up the book is an individual, and brings their own experiences to their reading of a novel. The ways the reader can interpret the novel are infinite, and none of them are wrong.
That doesn’t mean that an interpretation can’t be incorrect. It can have holes or be faulty or only pick up evidence that helps prove its case, but an argument, once solidly built and supported by evidence is a LEGITIMATE INTERPRETATION, ONE OF AN INFINITE MANY. AND IT IS CORRECT. And no self-enthused idiot can go around telling you that you’re wrong, because that’s not how they saw it.
B-but, how can that be? A book is written within a time period, with certain ideas, and by a certain author. He certainly didn’t mean for the book to be read that way.
Ah, but my dear friend, here’s the thing about writing: once you’ve written something, you let it out into the world, where people who are not you can read it.
The meaning of a book is much like the outcome of your DNA on what traits are expressed in your body. The famously incorrect idea is that you can appropriate a certain percentage of “because of”-ness to DNA and the rest of it to the environment, it’s the famous (and very wrong) dichotomy of nature vs. nurture. Here’s the truth. DNA can’t do anything without a body, and a body is, GASP, a pre-prepared environment. And wait, what’s this? An environment can’t express traits unless there are guidelines for how to express those traits. So in short, the traits of an individual are caused by the interaction of DNA and the environment.
So, let’s extend this analogy to literature, because it works, and I am a nerd. A book cannot be interpreted unless there is someone is reading it. There is nothing to interpret if a person doesn’t have books. For this reason, it is logical to conclude that the interpretation of a novel depends on the interaction of the original text and the experiences, thoughts, and emotions of the reader.
Yes, we can go out and take a novel and choose to interpret it in a certain way: we can approach it historically, and try to see how it would have been reacted to by the people of the time, or what it means when taking the precise balance of historical pressures into account. We can also approach it sociologically, and see what this tells us about the ideas, requirements, prejudices and schema of the society that inspired it. Furthermore, we can approach it psychologically to see what the writing tells us about the author. Truthfully, there are a ridiculous number of ways to interpret novels, and the last, but not least, is to take a piece of literature, and to make a personal interpretation of it. Considering, hey, the number of people who might read a novel is infinite (ignoring the implosion of the sun), the number of interpretations on a novel are also, infinite.
Golly, gee! So, borscht, what you’re telling me, is that as long as these interpretations are solidly defended by the evidence, they can’t be wrong?
RIGHT, my wonderful imaginary reader. Brownie points for you.
So once last time, I emphasize, and please let me never have to do this again: The way a piece of literature can be interpreted correctly is infinite, and depends on the interaction between the original text and the reader.
Thank you, and good day.
