I See No Text Between Those Lines

Analysis of literature is an important part of education, I well realize it's pointless to try and argue against that. Please do not be offended by anything you read here, especially if you happen to teach the very concepts I'm about to critique and determine my final grade at the end of the term; this is simply one man trying to find things to complain about on his blog.  That being said, there are times I can't but help consider to myself that a good lot of that language breakdown is a lot of bullpoop.


Oh, there it is.

When we read essays or excerpts, we're urged to identify literary devices, deduce motivation and find subtext; as if the actual text wasn't sufficient. I recognize the value of these practices as an educational tool: they help build a better understanding of language, help note patterns evident in effective writing, and encourage thinking outside of the conventional literary box. That about pushes their value for me.

I don't represent the pinnacle of writing, obviously, but when I write, it flows naturally in order to best paint the picture I desire and to entertainingly convey the ideas I wish to create. Some literary devices may wind up in there as a result of this, and perhaps I may unconciously slide in a parallel between my subject matter and oppression in Sudan, but at the end of the day I'm just writing. Of course there are going to be some underlying messages/meaning in some writing, and it'd be stupid to try and say there is NEVER an appropriate role for the illusive subtext in analysis. Today, subtext especially, has been stretched out, exhausted and misapplied more than a fat girl's spandex shorts. (seriously, stop.)

Because of that, the thing that really gets at me is that we're almost losing the true value of subtext when we misapply it so often. Elaborate, artfully construed writing full of purposeful metaphor and intelligent parallel is lost in the shuffle with non-existent, baseless "subtext". A student reading To Kill a Mockingbird for a literature class may blindly suggest that Atticus Finch is actually government intervention in the Chinese Opium crisis during the 1800s, while Boo Radley represents overcoming substance addiction and  Bob Ewell is British antagonization. Sure, you made it work, and that's a very interesting take on the matter, but it's clearly not pertinent to the actual story, or the author's actual intent, in any way! Now, a teacher who has taught the same curriculum on the same book for 25 years is slightly intrigued with a perspective outside the norm and praises their student for intuitiveness and thinking outside the box; all the while actual masterful, effective subtext lays unexplored in novels like H.G. Wells' The Time Machine. 

It's not all on the analyzers, either though. Subtext is abused by the aspiring writer just as often! A bland,  unoriginal  (nonexistent) short story about, let's say, an accountant named Jerry Crane eventually getting shot is met with universal "meh"s, until the author explains to his critics that Jerry Crane is really just one big standing metaphor for Jesus Christ! Nevermind that no other parts of the story actually lines up with the life of Jesus Christ in any way; the protagonist's initials are J.C.! Suddenly his awful tale is met with "ooo"s and "ahhh"s from the uninformed. Way to ruin it for everyone, douche.

As a final note, let me say that I hope one day when I'm rich and famous, as well as a world-renowned everything, English classes across America are forced to break this piece down, just for the lovely irony.