How To Read Literature Like A Professor - Book Summary

Dive into the literary depths: Discovering more than the mere story

Reading a book is more than just a casual pastime for many. We draw joy from gripping plots, intricate characters and the writer's vivid descriptions. But what if there's more beyond what meets the eye?

Indeed, literature often holds a secret world underneath, replete with hidden meanings and connections. Books, poems, short stories, they all belong to this expansive literary universe, binding together through shared motifs or ironically referencing previous works. Some pieces are so influential, their creations have etched themselves onto the fabric of our language.

Step right into this captivating realm with me. We will unravel the threads that weave different texts together, explore how to read just like a literature professor, and perhaps, see your cherished books from a brand new angle.

Throughout this journey, you'll uncover —

A young lady in a Thomas Pynchon novel who, intriguingly enough, is a true knight at heart,

A seemingly harmless flea that actually serves an intoxicating, erotic purpose,

And how Ernest Hemingway employs irony to breathe new life into an age-old poem.

The enriching tools of literary analysis: memory, symbols, and patterns

Think about your favorite book. The one you've revisited time and time again, immersing yourself in its pages. You might even know the exact count of your reading sessions. But do you understand the magic that pulls you back each time?

The reality is, readers are not all cut from the same cloth. While some of us might enjoy the surface-level narrative — focusing on the characters' decisions and subsequent outcomes — it takes more than a thrilling plot or engaging characters to claim the title of a favorite book.

Readers with a more refined palette dive deeper into the emotional layers of a book. They probe — "Why did this section stir such emotions within me?" or "Where have I encountered this scenario before?"

These curious readers decode literature, unearthing hidden elements that construct their beloved books. These can range from archetypal characters and literary allusions, to plot mechanisms and unique narrative styles. So, if you aspire to be a seasoned reader, where do you start?

The key lies in understanding three crucial categories: memory, symbols, and patterns.

Memory serves as a bridge between the current book and all those you've read before. A seasoned reader would ponder — "How does this character align with or deviate from those I've previously met?"

Furthermore, they're always on the lookout for symbols, recognizing when a narrative element signifies something beyond its apparent form. They'll question — "What deeper meaning does this event, object, or place hold within the storyline?"

Lastly, they notice patterns. Recurring, seemingly insignificant details could shed light on the protagonist's personality or fate.

In our next step, let's dive deeper into these distinct elements, unraveling the secret formula of memory, symbols, and patterns that lace a novel's rich tapestry.

Embarking on an adventure: The timeless charm of the quest narrative

Why did you venture out to the grocery store this week? Chances are, it was a mundane reason, such as needing bread. But what if this grocery run was, in fact, a knightly pursuit for self-understanding? Sounds absurd? Well, authors have been doing just that — taking an archetypal plot and ingeniously tweaking the details.

Take the tale of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, for instance, where a young knight undertakes a journey to a far-off land seeking the Holy Grail. Along the way, he combats dragons, conquers hindrances, and experiences a completely unforeseen revelation at the tale's end. This narrative embodies the traditional structure of the quest, complete with a quester, a destination, a declared purpose, trials during the journey, and ultimately, an epiphany.

In your daily life, the quester might be a famished individual instead of a gallant knight, and the declared purpose could be acquiring bread rather than securing the Holy Grail. Nevertheless, the underlying structure remains intact. After all, it's not about the bread. It's about the experiences encountered en route to procure it.

The quest narrative finds itself embedded in countless novels, tailored to fit diverse characters, settings, and circumstances. A notable example is Thomas Pynchon's 1965 novel, The Crying of Lot 49.

In Pynchon's tale, the quester is a young woman shuttling between San Francisco and Southern California to execute the will of her deceased affluent lover — her declared purpose. Along her journey, she bumps into odd characters, peculiar misfits, and gets ensnared in a sinister conspiracy, marking her trials.

Although the conspiracy's truth remains elusive, she discovers her own capability for independence and self-reliance — the unexpected revelation of her quest.

Yet, the quest narrative is just one among numerous universal structures pervasive in literature, and it's not the only common thread uniting diverse books.

Delving into intertextuality: Every book echoes the whispers of others

Have you ever come across a book that seemed strangely familiar, triggering a déjà vu? You might have felt a twinge of disappointment, attributing this familiarity to the author's lack of originality. However, the truth is, no piece of literature is entirely unique. The pages of every book are woven with threads borrowed from others, be it apparent or concealed, intentional or unintentional.

This literary phenomenon is termed intertextuality, serving as a tool that can enrich the depth of your reading experience. For instance, consider D.H. Lawrence's novella — The Virgin and the Gypsy. The narrative chronicles a destructive flood demolishing a homestead, strikingly reminiscent of the biblical flood experienced by Noah. This parallel suggests that the flood in Lawrence's tale isn't merely a catastrophe but also a commentary on the purifying potential of destruction.

Most books carry within them a universal message about the essence of human life — a message relevant across time and space. Some argue that each of these messages can be traced back to the themes found in Shakespeare's works. Regardless of the validity of this claim, there's no denying Shakespeare's colossal influence on English literature and language.

Several authors have celebrated Shakespeare through intertextual references in their work. The iconic musical West Side Story leverages Romeo and Juliet as a blueprint, spinning a modern saga of star-crossed lovers. Likewise, Woody Allen's film A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy unabashedly tips its hat to Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream with its title.

From the Bible to folktales, Alice in Wonderland to timeless classics, countless portrayals of the human experience inspire authors to adapt, appropriate, and spark their creative imagination. By reading widely, you not only get exposure to these varied depictions but also sharpen your ability to discern the universal messages encapsulated within each story.

Deciphering symbolism: The hidden narrative within a narrative

Visualize this: You're strolling down a street when a woman a few steps ahead raises her arm, swirling it in the air. It would be peculiar if you couldn't infer that she's waving.

Waving transcends mere hand movement. It's a symbol, denoting recognition, greeting, and an invitation for reciprocation. In the realm of literature, virtually anything can harbor deeper meaning, assuming the guise of a symbol.

Consider Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Here, the Mississippi River is more than just a body of water; it's a potent symbol, representing multiple concepts.

In the early parts of the story, the river is a force of annihilation, its floods wreaking havoc on lives and livestock, swallowing homes whole. Yet, for Jim, a slave, this seemingly ominous river transforms into a pathway to liberation. Thus, the Mississippi River becomes a duality of terror and sanctuary.

Symbols also serve as authors' clandestine communicative tools, subtly conveying messages that explicit discourse may not allow, especially in times of stringent censorship.

The seventeenth-century poet John Donne cleverly navigated through such censorship in his poem, The Flea. The poem revolves around the narrator's thwarted sexual desire due to his lover's cold response. The censorship of the time forbade explicit sexual references. How, then, did Donne address his poetic predicament?

The answer lies in the flea. This seemingly insignificant insect serves as a symbol that binds the lovers. The flea, having bitten both the speaker and his lover, embodies the consummation of their relationship and mirrors the poem's longing. Admittedly, recognizing this symbolic representation might not be straightforward at first glance.

However, a well-crafted book often subtly guides you towards identifying symbols. So, keep your senses alert. If a detail repeats itself, examine it closely. You might uncover a symbolic missive waiting to be deciphered!

The quiet protagonist: How setting sways our perception of a tale

Imagine reading a tale of struggle and strife set against a bleak, frostbitten backdrop. Now, envisage the same narrative unfolding amidst a verdant, spring-engulfed landscape. Would the story evoke the same response?

Unlikely. The environment is not just a backdrop in literature; it's an influential entity. Edgar Allan Poe's work provides a perfect illustration. Consider his novel, The Fall of the House of Usher. The book begins by painting a grim picture with words such as "dreary," "rank," and "vacant."

Before the characters even make their entry, we are already braced for a tale riddled with melancholy and despair. How? Because the atmosphere set by the initial description readies us for what's to come.

Settings in literature serve not merely as a stage for the narrative but often mold the very core of the story. A case in point is William Faulkner's acclaimed works, set in the fictional Yoknapatawpha County — a vivid depiction of life in the Deep South.

Beyond geographical confines, the setting extends to the climate and weather conditions. Seasons, with their symbolism, often play an intuitive role in literature: spring personifies the joyous days of childhood, summer embodies passion and romance, autumn signifies aging, while winter is frequently associated with death. Authors leverage symbolic seasons to underscore their narrative's central theme.

Anita Brookner's 1984 novel, Hotel du Lac, provides a striking example. The narrative follows a woman seeking respite from a turbulent romance and reminiscing about her youth at a resort. Her arrival at the resort coincides with late September, signifying the autumn of her life.

In literature, settings often assume such a pivotal role, they nearly take on the persona of a character. Therefore, while reading, don't limit yourself to the who and the what; delve into the where and the when to uncover the full essence of the tale.

Encountering irony: The wild card of literature that plays with your assumptions

By now, you're well-versed in the literary codes that authors use to mesmerize their readers. Let's throw a wildcard into this mix — irony. This surprise element of literature tosses all rules aside.

Simply put, irony is when what happens is the polar opposite of what we expected. Recognizing irony requires us to distinguish between expectation and outcome.

Remember the quintessential knight's quest narrative structure? Familiarity with this allows us to predict the trajectory of the plot. Hence, if a tale following this structure veers off in an unexpected direction, we're encountering irony.

Consider Samuel Beckett's iconic play, Waiting for Godot. The two principal characters wait by a road every day, hoping for the arrival of a mysterious entity, Godot, who they believe will change their lives. However, despite their (and the readers') anticipation, Godot never appears. This contradiction imparts a peculiar feeling, subtly guiding the audience towards the social commentary embedded in the play.

Irony can also reside in a character's actions. Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway is a classic example. Here, war veteran Septimus Warren Smith takes his own life to escape impending "enemies". However, these enemies are in reality two doctors. In this case, the conventional image of doctors as saviors is subverted into a threatening presence.

Even a book's title can ooze irony. Ernest Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms is an apt instance. The title echoes a militant poem, whose opening line "To arms!" implies a call to war. Yet, Hemingway juxtaposes the title and this line to forge "A Farewell to Arms" — strikingly contrary to a war cry.

Irony serves to keep readers on their toes, defying conventional expectations. Once you master the art of spotting irony, you're no longer just a reader. You're a literary connoisseur, undeterred by surface level narratives, and adept at delving into the deeper layers of a tale.

Wrapping up

The core takeaway from this book:

Detecting patterns, symbols, and intertextual connections in a book enables you to read between the lines and decipher the universal message underlying the story. Thus, elevating your reading experience is merely a matter of keen observation and attention to detail.