Personal Relevance in Literature: The Lifeblood of Critical Thinking part I

Foremost, it is essential that I put this thought process into appropriate context, before spilling it out here. Basically, I spend a fair amount of time at a Tolkien forum, and there seems to be no shortage of what I will refer to as "text purists" or "literature thumpers" and they seem to be so focused on taking every word that Tolkien has ever written, and supplementing that with letters he wrote throughout his declining years, and mixing in material that Tolkien's son Christopher has written, and insisting that with this plethora of material at their disposal, they can safely conclude the meaning of all things Tolkien. While this may or may not be true, often times it leaves no room for interpretation, which is essentially, the key ingredient of critical thinking. Anyways, while mulling this over, I started writing. This is what I came up with.

Whether we are Tolkien devotees, or fictional literature buffs, we all enjoy a well written fantasy tale. These stories allows us, for brief moments to suspend our disbeliefs, and perhaps escape into a world not entirely unlike our own. Often times we are offered an invitation to forsake logic, and simply embrace the magic that is. However, because we shirk the rules of the real world, we sometimes find ourselves immersed in the pursuit of trying to form up some context through which the tale can resonate within us, and in turn we seek to compare those concepts with each other, in some hopes to find universal relevancies. Though in the end, it all boils down to our own personal perceptions as being paramount.

In regards to our individual interpretations, there seems to be a split. On one side of this divide there are people who are willing to accept that there exist underlying themes, and have fun imagining it to be such. Then there are those whose opposing views seek to take all matters literally, and so, do not enjoy the thought of anything implied that is not exactingly stated within the text. In essence those who prefer the magic of dancing faeries, and those who read to immerse themselves in the lush tapestry of a fictional history. To be fair, it should be noted there are those who prefer both, especially amongst fans of authors like J.R.R. Tolkien.

The more I contemplate the expansiveness of this gap, the more the crux of the matter solidifies itself around the notion (apparently held by many), that there is a valid interpretation that can be arrived at, the ultimate truth of a matter. Much of academia is focused on this concept, as well it should be I suppose. For how can we teach a subject, if it does not have certain base truths? Though what are these universal facts, and who arrives at them? Certainly they are the product of many years of learned debate, with the end result embracing the majority rules. While this may suffice for the purpose of instruction, there remains a victim in all of this; our individual interpretations.

When is it appropriate, that we may consider the personal as relevant enough to trump common consent? There is no clear cut answer to this question, though there does exist an undeniable current in any culture, ushering along the accumulated progression of the contemporary, and we are faced with having to juxtapose these universal facts, and ultimate truths, against an evolving community awareness. As time wears on, and we increase our body of knowledge, we also widen our understanding of a great many subjects that were previously taken for granted as being "fact." While certain emotions are so well developed that we might even consider them a finished product so to speak, the philosophy behind validating those feelings is ever changing. Therefore, so too are the minds and spirits interpreting the entirety of literature as it now stands, monolithic and foreboding, yet, limited and cliche.

More on the way .....

Remembering Cecil

Today the three of us loaded up the Jeep and motored on over to Muskegon. With Memorial Day just around the corner, we wanted to visit Cecil and Ruby. What a great day we had! After offering our respects, we cruised over to North Muskegon State Park. The trail system there is phenomenal, couldn't ask for anything more. This hike was rather slow, but we definitely took in at least 60%+ of the total trail system. Besides, not only was Sage with us, but we wanted to savor everything. It was a truly magical adventure, hearkening back memories of Lake Superior. At one point it was blustery, cold, and the fog was so thick we could feel moisture being deposited on our faces. A quarter mile later, we were at a completely different elevation and it was warm, dry, sunny. Amazing.

On the subject of loved ones departed, I never had a chance to know Ruby, but I will surely remember Cecil affectionately for the remainder of my days. I remember after we had hung out together for the first time, he put his arm around me and said "You know, you're a lot like me." Who can forget a thing like that coming from such an awesome guy? I am honored that he not only felt that way, but had the guts to tell me. It is all too infrequent these days that people are open with one another. Too, I will never forget how every time we would get together he would say "You sure that Johnson in you isn't Swedish?" He of course is also of Johnson blood, Johanson I believe?

Whats the difference anyways, my brother is my brother by any name.

Used Car or Second Hand Spirituality?

Now one might get the impression that I am hung up on the religious types, or that I let them get under my skin too easily. This is honestly not the case. I have a deep respect for people who practice religion of any sort, moral fiber, and a strong belief system are admirable traits. What does bother me though, is when religious types decide to target me for conversion. This of course is what they are instructed to do, so how can I fault them? Aside from understanding why they do it, I cannot help but express my frustration with how they go about doing it.

As many know, we do not have a sidewalk in front of our house. This makes it difficult for Sage, who is interested in learning to ride her bike without the training wheels, to get any practice in without us loading up the bike, and driving her somewhere. Fortunately there is a church with a fairly large parking lot just a few houses down. So, the other day we got the bright idea that we would cruise over to the church and let her spend some time riding about on her bike in a big empty paved space.

What we did not expect was for the pastor of the church to approach us and introduce himself. He of course made sure we knew that he was the pastor, and it was his church, but we were welcome to use the parking lot, we, had his permission. He then went through a routine that seemed so rehearsed, yet almost mechanical in nature, I can only imagine trying to appeal to our sense of... who knows, it must have been successful for him in the past. His body language was that of a salesman. After 5 minutes that seemed like an eternity, he decided to leave us be and go about his business, after stating no less than twice that he "won't give us the hard sell this time."

It occurs to me that this is the inherent problem with ministering religion to the unwilling stranger. It is not something to be sold. It should be given as a gift. Return all ye used car salesmen to thy lots, and perhaps ye shall find thy congregation grow under the tutelage of a truly spiritual person.

Fresh Air!

After days upon days of rain, the green toilet bowl swirl we call doppler has been thwarted. Let Michigan breathe again! We got out for a hike tonight, which was heartening beyond description. After a week couped up, forced to stair climb and put in double doses of weight lifting, a dry trail is a welcome friend. As Summer fast approaches we look forward to our West Virginia adventure. The reservations have been made, and time off scheduled.

*edit*
Just received my final grades on the semester: 3.7 GPA. Woot.