Darja's blog brings to light students' 'tendency' 'to subscribe to the opinion of their professors. I believe this tendency is unconscious and may be related to the transference phenomenon, whereby individuals 'transfer' or redirect desire unconsciously retained from childhood toward a new object. In this sense, Darja's interesting observation that we students tend to modify our comments in accordance with Jon's lectures, instead of expressing a lack of critical insight or independent thought, would refer to our unconscious desires for approval from a prof posited as a paternal substitute. Far from being neurotic or dysfunctional, I suspect this dynamic to be a normal part of classroom interaction and beneficial to learning. Darja is right is stressing the importance of independent and critical thought--without which we would be little different than the sheep in Santiago's flock--but I also think it is important to recognize that critical thinking is something developped intersubjectively and not individually given and that there are unconscious and affective elements implicated in its formation. Recognizing them is, in my view, part of what being self-aware and self-critical is all about.
But back to The Alchemist. What I find most offensive about this novel is not its message--that realizing our dreams is a necessary condition of our being happy--but rather its claim that this message is universally applicable. It seems to me that there is a whole series of material and psychological conditions (like comfortable economic circumstances and sound mental health) that need to be in place before we can even contemplate realizing our 'God-given' potential and that these conditions are available to a minority of people. As someone who was out during the height of the AIDS crisis in the 1990s, I saw many a gay brother die the most horrific of deaths without ever being given the possibility of exploiting their talents as human beings. It seems utterly tasteless to speak of 'personal legends' in this context. If all that was written, it was so in the sickest of books.
5 comments:
Heh, I hear what you're saying about "transference." NB however that this could also mean that feelings of anger or disagreement are also brought to classroom settings.
More generally, it might be interesting to consider when and why our opinions are swayed about literature, and when is this more (or less) likely. Ana also discussed this in her first entry.
Niall, you raise some good point. I would just like to add that, though I firmly believe that critical thinking is in part developed through classroom interaction and through interaction with other, like professors, I think that it should be expected that one come into a 400-level class with some critical thinking abilities already developed. Certinaly I am not saying that the students in our class haven't developed it. I am just noticing that we are all too easily swayed and we should be a little me self-critical in questiong just how independently we do think. If we are to have a bachelor in literatire, we should not be able to achieve it by simply aggreeing with others and seeing their points. we should be ale to form those opinions ourselves as well. :)
Niall,
You bring up thought provoking points for discussion. I have thought a lot about how easy it is to be swayed one way or another by what a professor at the university level would want you to believe and cannot help but to think the problem started when we were all young children. At least for me, I surely was not going to ‘question the authority’ who at that time was my teacher for fear of being sent to the principal’s office for taking on an objective way of thinking. But by the time we get to university level, we are expected to think ‘critically’ and yet, as we have seen in SPAN 490, we still can become easily swayed to “like” or “dislike” a piece of literature based on what the professor says, or suggests. Is it because we simply cannot make up our minds, or is it because we see how some literature can be both “good” and “bad” at the same time—a duality of sorts? Or, is it because we simply are not convicted one way or another and therefore do not want to bother with our argument of “for” or “against” because that would just be too much effort? The ‘debate’ in class the other day I think helped express this sentiment better, when we were told to take a particular stance and back up our arguments, whether we agreed that The Alchemist was good or bad literature.
lots of things to think about here,
in particular i appreciate your point about the idea of even contemplating actualizing our personal legend being something available to a definite minority, the notion reminds me of the over-cited Maslow's hierarchy of needs, where at the tip of the pyramid we have the 'self-actualization' as an option, after all other needs, basic and material and survival in whatever environment we're in, have been met...
- marina
SO...after our random meeting the other day I decided to re-read the first part of the book. It is true that my opinion of The Alchemist has changed drastically but I am not sure if my new found awareness of its ridiculousness is due to all the negative comments about the book being made in class or maybe just being able to actually identify those parts of the book that you literature people so strongly dislike. John's lectures have rubbed off on me, it's true, but I think it has been beneficial and I don't think I am merely being a sheep - I have taken into account what he has said (along with everyone else) and applied those comments to my further readings, which I think has helped me develop my skills as a critical reader.
Also, you mentioned that you thought 'Maktub' was a load of crap (and I definitely agree with you) but I am interested to know if you think all of the other messages in the book are just as bad. Is it wrong for a cheesy popular book to try to inspire people to follow their dreams?
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