Seventh Street: What's All That Jazz? (an excerpt)

While, at first, it may seem unreasonable to label Toomer’s work, titled “Seventh Street”, poetry because it is like music, one should first consider song lyrics. Song lyrics are arguably all poetic because they must cater to the rhythms and sounds of the surrounding music where they function as the tool of another instrument. Plus, Toomer uses the phrase “thrusting unconscious rhythms”, which is reflected by the large stanza like structure in the center of the work. Toomer’s words definitely have a flow with the short bursting words that are broken up by commas, exclamation marks, semicolons functioning almost as a drumbeat to gauge the timing. For example, we see the line “Split it! In two! Again shred it!...the sun”. Here we find a series of one syllable words that are abruptly split by the exclamation marks. The energy demanded by the exclamation marks to quickly blast the words forces you to stop in between. There is also a blend of hard, consonant sounds and soft ones that change up the rhythm. The sentences before and after this line are “Wedges rust in soggy wood...” and “Wedges are brilliant in the sun; ribbons of wet wood dry and blow away”. In these two sentences we see a greater blend of sounds. There are more syllables per word, longer sentences, and smoother language which is created in part by the soft “o” sounds of “soggy” and “wood”. This sort of blend signifies an entire band playing since all the elements harmonize into one whereas the short abrupt sentence almost sounds like a quick drum solo interruption. This section is even set off by ellipsis. Such a move reinforces that this part is meant to be set off as a quick drum solo intermission often is. Thus, each syllable in the quotation marked by exclamations could represent quick, individual drum beats.

That Bastard "Seventh Street"

“Seventh Street is a bastard of Prohibition and the War” (Toomer 5). I am going to break this line down into sections, the bastard of Prohibition and the bastard of the War. Before analyzing these two segments there needs to be a clear definition of the word bastard. Webster’s dictionary has three entries for the word bastard: first, an illegitimate child; second, a vicious, despicable or thoroughly disliked person; and the third, something irregular, inferior, spurious, or unusual. For Toomer to introduce the reader to Seventh Street by addressing it as a bastard does a couple things; the first is making Seventh Street look as if it is an unwanted segment of Whashington D.C., also it seems as though this is a preparation for the reader, preparing the reader for the remainder of the poem which will reveal some critical and provocative details about Seventh Street.
“Seventh Street is a bastard of prohibition…” (5) tells the reader that Seventh Street is not an authentic place, or that the origins and current condition of Seventh Street are due to the fact that Seventh Street is illegitimate. The ban placed on the sale of alcohol prompts the bootleggers to seek some kind of work, so as a result the work they choose is to sell liquor. This example shows the illegitimacy of job selection. The bootlegger did not choose to do the job out of free will. With his back against the wall with the ban placed on liquor he had no choice. Toomer’s use of bastard to introduce us to Seventh Street and the use of this example shows that Toomer wants to reader to be aware of the current situation happening on Seventh Street in Washington, D.C. “Seventh Street is a bastard of … War” (5). The residents of Seventh Street are there by consequence, those caused by World War I. This treatment of blacks reflects the time period in which Toomer wrote the poem. Many blacks served in World War I with white counterparts. On the return home, instead of being treated as a hero who fought for their country, blacks were thrown into the run-down section of Washington, D.C. Toomer’s introduction of Seventh Street with the use of bastard shows the attitude that he believed America took towards that section of D.C. and based on the bootleggers and residents I would have to say his analysis is correct.

Against Theory

My problem with the article Against Theory is centered around a similar issue we have discussed heavily throughout class. Should readers like myself, only take into consideration the authors intent? Or should we look behind the scenes and read between the lines to see what underlies the authors text? Personally, I find it almost ignorant and insane to think that an author intends to portray every critical method possible. Knapp and Michaels state that, “the mistake made by theorists has been to imagine a possibility or desirability of moving from one term (authorial intention) to a second (textual significance) term when actually the two terms are the same”. As I recently employed a historical analysis for my final paper, I found the cultural and social environment that surrounded the author to have a profound influence on his writing. When doing so, I found that the author was aware of the environment that surrounded him, but failed to recognize his own influence for that historical context. I just cannot seem to grasp the idea that if an author writes a piece of text to represent a specific cultural context, how one can then derive various meanings from this. I believe that authorial intent should only be relied on if and only when the author makes a clear distinction about his/her work. However, I do believe that reading between the lines is necessary in constructing a basis for ones argument. If someone chooses to read a piece of text through the lense of gender or race, then I believe it is necessary to atleast acknowledge the historical context and framework in which the author was placed. The real question then becomes what is the intent of not only the author, but of the text itself? And as a literary and cultural theorist, I find it impossible to arrive at such a conclusion.

Authorial Intention and the Generation of Meaning-Knapp and Michaels'-Against Theory

I agree with Knapp and Michaels’ claim that language becomes accidental and merely “like language” if it’s deprived of an author. However, I do not agree that by taking away and author and authorial intent, the language loses all meaning. The article poses the question whether or not computers can have intention, and I believe that they can’t. Computers can replicate or perform the intentions of the program/programmer, but it is absurd to think that computers could have intention. The question of whether or not the sea could have intention isn’t relevant because the sea certainly cannot create/intend anything, it only reacts when biological or environmental factors act on it. However, to expose the truth about the necessity of authorial intent for the creation of meaning, imagine yourself dropping a glass of O.J. on the ground and the word “run” appears. Clearly the incident is a phenomenon, but its lack of authorial intent doesn’t stop your heart from speeding up, your adrenaline kicking in, and your eyes from the scanning the room. While in this case authorial intent doesn’t substantiate the meaning of word run, leading to a horror film chase scene like you’d expect, the language itself possess meaning and causes us to think twice about staying put.

Calling All Theorists! The Problems of Literary Theory

Knapp and Michaels’ thesis states, “The mistake on which all critical theory rests has been to imagine that (the problems of interpretation) are real” (Knapp 724). To back this up, they cite the relationship between correct interpretation and authorial intent and the ambiguity and generalizations done by “interpretive assumptions” (724). On the first point, we have seen this relationship explored in our workings of Joyce’s Dubliners, particularly in the role of Joyce’s little brother’s diaries in A Painful Case, as well as in Dr. Herzog’s discussions of Vietnam War literature. It is no question that the connections between authorial intent and correct interpretation are often hazy, especially when an author’s work is read in a different era. However, I believe there are examples in which authorial intent can play a direct role in more thorough interpretation. I see this in Nikki Giovanni’s poem “Nikki Rosa”. Her poem essentially is a post-structuralist attempt to rewrite the popular construct that wealth determines happiness in creative form. Instead of material goods, she states that “Black love is Black wealth” (Giovanni “Nikki Rosa” l. 30). Her biography is reflected in the piece by describing her poverty and childhood home in Woodlawn; however, she explicitly states that while biographers will “probably talk about my hard childhood / and never understand that / all the while I was quite happy” (l. 31-33). Her explicit statements help the reader to examine what structures and binaries the “biographers” would have drawn upon (l. 17).
I find the second issue of their piece much more relevant and in need of examination. Particularly in some of our presentations, there is a general assumption that certain stereotypes about women, non-white races, and other subjugated groups exist because of their subjugation. However, many of these stereotypes are not grounded in “a direct encounter with its object”, also known as the text (Knapp 737). Here, they see the danger of the practice of theorizing about a subject that may not exist exactly in their framework. When I read this, I hear a call to ground theory, whether that is the original constructions, the deconstructions, the explorations, and the arguments, in the texts. If there are any “practical consequences” of such an examination of theory, it is to make sure what we theorize about is tangible in the language of a text (738).

PUSH Against Theory

Steven Knapp and Walter Benn Michaels, in the first part of their argument in "Against Theory," question E.D. Hirsch's theory about what defines a text. It is questioned as to why Hirsch separates meaning and intended meaning when trying to define what is projected to an audience by a text,especially if meaning and intention are the same. When reading this, I thought of the contrast between the novel "Push" by Sapphire and the movie "Precious: Based on the Novel "Push" by Sapphire." I remember reading the book and realizing that one of the most predominant male characters was one that didn't exist in the actual plot: Louis Farrakhan. Farrakhan was the basis to which Precious, the novel's central character, ran her life and made most of her moral decisions and judgements. Farrakhan is mentioned throughout the entire novel quite often, but when the movie was made, there is no mention of Farrakhan at all. This forced me to think in the minds of Hirsch as opposed to Knapp and Michaels, wondering if the intention of the author and the textual meaning of "Push" were the same. If they were indeed different as Hirsch suggests, I would think that Sapphire, the book's author, would be upset that her critique of Precious's reliance of Farrakhan is completely ignored in the movie. This would imply that the director, who is essentially the most important audience member, and the author perceived the text's meaning as different things, eventually opposing the author's intentions.

An Argument Against the Argument Against Theory

The article by Knapp and Michaels was interesting in that it posited a way of thinking about authorial intention that some may not have previously considered. In this course, we have examined how various theories can help indentify larger structures of language and context which elucidate further meaning beyond what is immediately recognizable. By looking through various critical lenses, a reader can gain a richer understanding of a given text. But the question arises as to what degree does the author's intended meaning matter in our interpretation. Are there times when a rose is just a rose, placed within the story for aesthetic value? This is where I have personally struggled with theory. The idea of tearing apart a piece of literature sometimes leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I like to think that literature can be valued for its inherent beauty: the formation of sentences, the sharing of experience, and the construction of real characters. But I realize that there is a place for theory, much in the same way that there is a place for the biological examination of our world. If there is something deeper within the structures of literature, why shouldn't we seek to expose and examine it in order to gain a fuller understanding? I may now be ranting, so I will try to bring my argument back to the original subject matter. In the article, the authors oppose the idea of separating what the author hopes to say and what is actually meant by the language of a text. The authors say "Some theorists have claimed that valid interpretations can only be obtained through an appeal to authorial intentions. ..But once it is seen that the meaning of a text is simply identical to the author's intended meaning, the project of grounding meaning in intention becomes incoherent" (Knapp and Michaels, 724). Perhaps I am reading this incorrectly, but are they saying that there is no need to look to the author's intent because the way a text is interpreted is how the author intended it to be interpreted? This notion seems a cheap way of passing through the boundaries of the intentional fallacy. Of course there will be discrepancies between the way a text is perceived by the reader and how the author intended it to be understood. That is the place of the author: to give a text to the world in order that it might be read and interpreted in a variety of ways. To say that each of these ways of interpreting is the way the author intended it is to say that an author writes without intention, or that the author's intention is to have multiple interpretations. The fact remains that there will always be multiple interpretations of texts, no matter what the author intends. In this way, there will remain an inherent discrepancy between the reader and the author. The article fails to recognize that these two modes of interpretation and intention are not the same.