Thursday, July 10, 2008

Nothing More Than Feelings

I've noticed an alarming trend of late in student writings, and, it appears, in our educational system: the permissiveness and even encouragement of treating our "feelings" as though they were valid sources of fact and argument. This is, "I feel," complete crap. As an academic, I view it as a degradation of the art of interpretation.

It is part - or is at least an off-shoot of - the increasing validity of reader-response. Which is itself the bastard child of New Criticism. Both of which, "I feel," should be dragged out back and shot.

We, especially here in the United States of America, want our feelings to be given credence and importance that they do not deserve. This is, of course, not to say that feelings aren't important. They are. In social relationships. Not in my classroom, thank you very much.

I am not one of those teachers who belittles her students. I am respectful of them and I expect them to be the same of one another and of me. I do not try to hurt their feelings and I go out of my way to make sure that any and all criticism I offer them is constructive. But what they "feel" about Shakespeare has no place in their papers.

I'm glad Shakespeare makes them feel something. I'm glad that Eliot was right about the objective correlative. But I don't care. And not only do I not care, I actively do not want to know how they feel about Hamlet and Gertrude or Romeo and Juliet. What I want to know is what they have discovered within the text. And since the entire purpose of education is to encourage thought, I don't think I have unrealistic expectations.

The problem is that they are being encouraged in high school to tell me what they feel. To tell me that they agree with Machiavelli, or that they think Machiavelli is going to Hell. I. Don't. Care. Go right ahead and think it, but it does not belong in any serious treatment of the text. This isn't about what you "feel." Life does not care what you "feel." I don't care. The text doesn't care if it hurt your feelings or if you disagree with it.

The entire purpose of critical thinking, of interpretation, of analysis, is to find things that are intrinsic to the text. If you can link that to its contemporary history, great. If you want to link it to other historical, literary, philosophical, etc. circumstances, great. But don't tell me "I agree with Machiavelli that rulers need to be deceptive." Unless you, sir or madam student, are a political authority, historian, or literary giant, your opinion doesn't count. Show me that Machiavelli is jaded and bitter over the corruption of political office. Show me that he contradicts himself. Show me how idiots in office took him seriously without realizing that they're proving the very things he satirizes. But don't tell me you "agree" or - god forbid - that you don't think rulers can be deceptive anymore because of the internet. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a-whole-nother kettle of fish.

What really drives me crazy - in case you couldn't tell - is our society's penchant for wanting to make everyone's "feelings" important. I don't want to have to pussy-foot around an issue simply because it might "hurt someone's feelings" to have it addressed. I want to be able to say "it drives me crazy when everyone assumes I'm a lesbian" without worrying about offending lesbians. I mean no offense to lesbians. But I'm not one. It's just like saying "it drives me crazy when everyone assumes I'm a man." I'm just not, no matter what the guy who told me I look like Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie thinks.

Have your feelings, kids, but recognize that you'll be a whole heck of a lot better off if you learn that feelings aren't worth a damn (except, as I said, in social relationships). Because, boys and girls, no matter how much you "feel" that Hamlet shouldn't die or Romeo and Juliet was written to you personally, it just isn't true. Feelings can lie to us. They're unreliable, variable, and very often quite stupid. Yes, they can also be wonderful, life-changing, fabulous things. But they belong between you and your family, your friends, your lover. They do not, I repeat, do not belong in the world of facts and critical thought. Maybe I am, as a dear friend so often insists, "dead inside." But, please, relegate your feelings to their proper place and let your brain get a little more exercise.

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