{"id":508,"date":"2024-03-16T21:48:35","date_gmt":"2024-03-16T21:48:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/?p=508"},"modified":"2024-03-20T22:03:11","modified_gmt":"2024-03-20T22:03:11","slug":"gulliver-and-his-authors-intention","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/?p=508","title":{"rendered":"Gulliver and his Author’s Intention"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n

I assume most of us are certain — prejudicially, adamantly, incorruptibly certain — that Gulliver\u2019s Travels<\/em> is not a romance<\/em>. By romance I mean our modern sense of the term: a narrative that deals with romantic love, its attendant difficulties, and, well, you know the sorts of things I mean. The text falls pretty far short of our expectations in this regard: there are not enough scenes of love-making, the mechanism for keeping the lovers separated (Gulliver\u2019s wild adventures in sundry foreign lands) is unduly prominent in the narrative, the female love interest (Lemuel\u2019s missus) is hardly even mentioned and their courtship is pretty well glossed over, etc. In other words, the text fails to satisfy some very basic expectations we have about romances, which we might call the set of necessary \u201cromantic\u201d criteria.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thus a romance it is not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But wait. . . . What if it\u2019s just a very poor romance?<\/em> A text of indeterminate genre might fail as a romance in the same way that a determined romance might fail to be a good <\/em>romance. That is, by not including a sufficient number of the juicy bits. This is a crux. Do we have an ontological criteria (to answer what sort of thing is it<\/em>) or an aesthetic criteria (to answer is it pretty good as far as that sort of thing goes<\/em>)?1<\/a><\/sup> Is Gulliver\u2019s Travels<\/em>, because it doesn\u2019t contain enough of these juicy bits, not a romance or is it — just a very bad<\/em> romance?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That a romance deficient in, even barren of, romantic features does not strike our minds with the same sense of absurdity as the square circle or the married bachelor seems to me strong reason to assume the existence of some alternative method of designation. So what is that alternative method?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Well, one thing many literary critics and their congregations caution us not to do <\/em>is to defer to the author\u2019s intention.2<\/a><\/sup> That Jonathan Swift intended or did not intend Gulliver\u2019s Travels<\/em> as a romance<\/em>, or even as a satire<\/em>, is not so important as, well, something or some things else. What exactly is that something or some things else? Before investigating the subject, I want to ask a much more general question about the text and its type:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

How do we know that Gulliver\u2019s Travels is a work of <\/em>fiction?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

A PROBLEM<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I assume most of us are certain — prejudicially, adamantly, incorruptibly certain — that Gulliver\u2019s Travels<\/em> is a work of fiction<\/em>. But how do we know <\/em>it\u2019s a work of fiction?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We read a work of fiction differently than we read a work of nonfiction. (\u201cYes, I was able to program my television remote but there just weren\u2019t enough strong women characters.\u201d) So it\u2019s a worthwhile question to ask of any text: are you fiction <\/em>or nonfiction<\/em>? Some shout the answer from their spines and covers. The Seraph’s Mistake: A Novel<\/em>. A Well Too Many: A History of Water Management in the Adirondacks<\/em>. Here we readers know that \u201cnovel\u201d equates to \u201cfiction\u201d and \u201chistory\u201d equates to \u201cnonfiction.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

But not all texts offer their designation by decree.3<\/a><\/sup> In the absence of a titular proclamation, how do we go about determining if a text is fiction or nonfiction? If the author\u2019s intentions are off-limits, who can we trust? The text itself seems to be our only resource.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Let\u2019s assume this general rule of thumb: works of fiction contain mostly false statements and works of nonfiction contain mostly true statement. Our first step now is to determine the veracity of the statements that compose Gulliver\u2019s Travels.<\/em>4<\/a><\/sup> For instance, are the various location named in the text real places? Are the people true historic personages? Let\u2019s say, after careful inquiry, geographers, ethnologists, geologists, genealogists, and physicist all concur that the bulk of the narrative is not only untrue but some of it is even impossible<\/em>. It would seem our rule of thumb has been satisfied and we can rest assured that Gulliver\u2019s Travels<\/em> is exactly what we assumed it was all along, a work of fiction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But let\u2019s not be too certain too quickly. Consider the following: in our public libraries there exist books containing high numbers of false statements, books which are nevertheless allowed to pass their perhaps undistinguished careers in the \u201cnonfiction\u201d section rubbing shoulders (or covers) with books far more replete in facts than themselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If the number of false statements in a work like Dr. Luna da Kook\u2019 A History of the Most Ancient Egyptians, Containing A Special Account of their Relations with Interstellar Beings<\/em> — or, for that matter, in Canby and Balderston\u2019s The Evolution of the American Flag<\/em>, Weem\u2019s Life of Washington<\/em>, or The Protocols of the Elders of Zion<\/em> — if the number of falsehoods in these texts does not grant them confraternity with the likes of Anna Karenina<\/em> and David Copperfield<\/em>, then might not Gulliver\u2019s Travels<\/em>, with its high number of falsehoods, also be outcast from the noble shelves of fiction?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is a major epistemic impasse. If the number of falsehoods in a text can\u2019t give us sure knowledge of a text\u2019s status as fiction or nonfiction, and the author\u2019s intention is irrelevant, how can we ever know what that text\u2019s status truly is?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A DEEPER PROBLEM<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

So far we\u2019ve only looked into the possibility of knowing <\/em>what the status of a text is without recourse to the author\u2019s intention. But what if those very statuses themselves are logically dependent upon the author\u2019s intention? What if the very ontology <\/em>— the very existence <\/em>— of fiction <\/em>and nonfiction <\/em>is at stake?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Let me try to make this clear by way of an analogy. (And then I\u2019ll try to make that analogy clear by way of a more confusing analogy.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Imagine we\u2019re linguists and our task is to separate lies from (since there\u2019s no good term for a falsehood that isn\u2019t a lie, let\u2019s call them) merely-mistaken statements, or MMS for short. For instance, Sally makes the false claim that Brazil is a country in Africa. Sally believes that Brazil is a county in Africa. Betty makes the same claim, but Betty doesn\u2019t believe what she says. We say Sally is sincere<\/em>, Betty is insincere<\/em>. It\u2019s precisely this quality of sincerity that allows us to distinguish Betty\u2019s lie from Sally\u2019s MMS.5<\/a><\/sup><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But our tasks as linguists is narrow. According to our theory of language the sincerity of speakers is irrecoverable <\/em>and irrelevant<\/em>. When we make our determination of lie or MMS, we\u2019re to make no reference to the speaker\u2019s sincerity. But how can we possibly accomplish this? If a lie isn\u2019t simply <\/em>a false statement but a false statement delivered without sincerity<\/em>, then we haven\u2019t merely limited our resources for determining lies, we\u2019ve also excluded the very possibility of lies<\/em>. Insincerity is a constituent of a lie, and the constituted thing doesn\u2019t exist without the constituent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Though I\u2019m no mathematician, I\u2019ll attempt a mathematical analogy: try to determine whether an integer is even without using division. It\u2019s impossible.6<\/a><\/sup> Dividing by two isn\u2019t simply a diagnostic technique for determining whether an integer is even, it\u2019s the very thing itself: an even number is, by definition, an integer divisible by two without remainder. If you exclude division from your mathematics you also exclude the possibility of even numbers. So, likewise, if you exclude the concept of sincerity from your linguistics you exclude the notion of lying. And if you exclude the principle of intention from your hermeneutics you exclude the categories of fiction <\/em>and nonfiction<\/em>. Such statuses aren\u2019t simply determined by the author\u2019s intention; they are the author\u2019s intention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s one more subtle point to make here. Notice, in determining lies from MMS, sincerity rather than intention is key. Telling a lie doesn\u2019t necessarily depend upon the speaker\u2019s intention to deceive. Betty can tell you Brazil is in Africa but in doing so she might not have any intention of deceiving you. She knows you won\u2019t believe her. In fact, we should say she intends for you to know she\u2019s lying. In this case, Sally is just telling a story<\/em>. This, in short, is the principle of distinction: does the author intend for you to recognize the statements as false?<\/em>7<\/a><\/sup><\/p>\n\n\n\n

SO WHAT ABOUT GENRES?<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

If \u201cfiction\u201d and \u201cnonfiction\u201d are a logical consequences of (or, logically constituted by) an author\u2019s intention, can we say as much for genre determinations? If a genre isn\u2019t itself an aim but at the very least a means to one, can we so safely dispose of an author\u2019s intentions in regards to it? Let\u2019s ask ourselves why we believe Gulliver\u2019s Travels<\/em> is a satire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The answer, I suspect, is that it just feels <\/em>like how other satires feel, just as Swift\u2019s other <\/em>satires feel like how still other satires feel. The designation has as much to do with the book\u2019s place within Swift\u2019s literary corpus as it does with its place within a millennia-long textual tradition. It seems to check all those \u201csatire\u201d boxes, doesn\u2019t it? And it certainly reads better, if not best, as a satire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n
  1. The point is that the criteria can\u2019t be both an ontological criteria AND an aesthetic criteria. If it\u2019s an ontological criteria we have to exclude the possibility of a genre work failing aesthetically through this same method, because it must already be excluded from the genre. If the criteria is aesthetic it can\u2019t be an ontological criteria, since to apply the criteria aesthetically we must presume the ontological status. In other words, a non-X can\u2019t be also a bad-X, if to be a bad-X is, ipso facto, to be an X. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  2. The classic modern formulation of the position is given by Beardsley and Wimsatt in their 1946 essay \u201cThe Intentional Fallacy,\u201d but the position can be traced at least as far back as Plato\u2019s Republic <\/em>where Socrates pokes fun at the dumb things authors have to say about their own work. Elaborations subsequent to Beardsley by various critical schools have more or less stressed the \u201cirrecoverability\u201d of the author\u2019s intention — which we might call the epistemic approach — and the \u201cirrelevance\u201d of the author\u2019s intention — which we might call the ontological approach. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  3. And, in fact, some of them that do, decree designations which, at least to contemporary ears, ostensibly refute their accepted status. For instance, The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling<\/em> is by general repute a work of fiction. Which makes us wonder, how can we trust even covers and spines? \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  4. To be fair, our resources now become much broader than the text itself. We have to call upon the whole universe to determine the veracity of the statements made, the existences of the entities enumerated. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  5. It\u2019s been a while since I\u2019ve read it, and I don\u2019t have a copy on hand, but I believe I\u2019m pinching the substance of this analysis from John Searle\u2019s essay “On the Ontological Status of Fictional Characters.” Even if this isn\u2019t my direct source, I feel duty-bound to give credit to Searle, whose theory of intentionality, not to mention his general tenor of thought, deserves credit for any thing I say here of merit, while all the blunders and feeble points are solely my own. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  6. A rule of thumb, like asking does it end in 2, 4, 6, 8, or 0, doesn\u2019t work because the rule is derived from the prohibited principle. Possibly you could redefine an even number as \u201cany number which is the product of a successive addition of the integer 2, beginning with itself.\u201d I\u2019m not mathematician enough to know how proper a definition that might be. But I suspect that, even given this definition, we could redirect the argument from division to succession <\/em>and addition <\/em>(or determine if something is an integer without recourse to succession and addition<\/em>). Since my argument is by analogy, the point is made even if the math is bad. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li>
  7. Firstly, this is admittedly an oversimplified account. Probably \u201cintends for you to recognize her claims refer to an imaginary world,\u201d or something like that, is a little better than \u201cfalse.\u201d And different types of fiction and nonfiction require different intentions, and perhaps mixed intentions. Secondly, the literary hoax, other hybrid positions, I won\u2019t get into here. And finally, since I don\u2019t pretend to too great a degree of originality in this account (see footnote 5), I suspect there exist more detailed explications than what I\u2019ve given in skeleton. My aim isn\u2019t to give a precise definition of \u201cfiction\u201d and \u201cnonfiction\u201d but only to make a plausible case that no such definitions are possible without reference to the intentions of authors. \u21a9\ufe0e<\/a><\/li><\/ol>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"[{\"content\":\"The point is that the criteria can\u2019t be both an ontological criteria AND an aesthetic criteria. If it\u2019s an ontological criteria we have to exclude the possibility of a genre work failing aesthetically through this same method, because it must already be excluded from the genre. If the criteria is aesthetic it can\u2019t be an ontological criteria, since to apply the criteria aesthetically we must presume the ontological status. In other words, a non-X can\u2019t be also a bad-X, if to be a bad-X is, ipso facto, to be an X.\",\"id\":\"97eba464-ca26-4c15-b667-00091dee0fb1\"},{\"content\":\"The classic modern formulation of the position is given by Beardsley and Wimsatt in their 1946 essay \u201cThe Intentional Fallacy,\u201d but the position can be traced at least as far back as Plato\u2019s Republic <\/em>where Socrates pokes fun at the dumb things authors have to say about their own work. Elaborations subsequent to Beardsley by various critical schools have more or less stressed the \u201cirrecoverability\u201d of the author\u2019s intention -- which we might call the epistemic approach -- and the \u201cirrelevance\u201d of the author\u2019s intention -- which we might call the ontological approach.\",\"id\":\"40a81172-ea28-4438-bee5-aee1a35b7079\"},{\"content\":\"And, in fact, some of them that do, decree designations which, at least to contemporary ears, ostensibly refute their accepted status. For instance, The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling<\/em> is by general repute a work of fiction. Which makes us wonder, how can we trust even covers and spines?\",\"id\":\"761bcaf9-725e-444d-a7b5-bc2c3b582468\"},{\"content\":\"To be fair, our resources now become much broader than the text itself. We have to call upon the whole universe to determine the veracity of the statements made, the existences of the entities enumerated.\",\"id\":\"0d319003-82df-40d2-8911-4949514d3a7d\"},{\"content\":\"It\u2019s been a while since I\u2019ve read it, and I don\u2019t have a copy on hand, but I believe I\u2019m pinching the substance of this analysis from John Searle\u2019s essay \\\"On the Ontological Status of Fictional Characters.\\\" Even if this isn\u2019t my direct source, I feel duty-bound to give credit to Searle, whose theory of intentionality, not to mention his general tenor of thought, deserves credit for any thing I say here of merit, while all the blunders and feeble points are solely my own.\",\"id\":\"8d3f113d-98a3-4428-b840-87b79d5f74c5\"},{\"content\":\"A rule of thumb, like asking does it end in 2, 4, 6, 8, or 0, doesn\u2019t work because the rule is derived from the prohibited principle. Possibly you could redefine an even number as \u201cany number which is the product of a successive addition of the integer 2, beginning with itself.\u201d I\u2019m not mathematician enough to know how proper a definition that might be. But I suspect that, even given this definition, we could redirect the argument from division to succession <\/em>and addition <\/em>(or determine if something is an integer without recourse to succession and addition<\/em>). Since my argument is by analogy, the point is made even if the math is bad.\",\"id\":\"93a4fbc5-4fe8-46e4-89c9-75577e5f4cbf\"},{\"content\":\"Firstly, this is admittedly an oversimplified account. Probably \u201cintends for you to recognize her claims refer to an imaginary world,\u201d or something like that, is a little better than \u201cfalse.\u201d And different types of fiction and nonfiction require different intentions, and perhaps mixed intentions. Secondly, the literary hoax, other hybrid positions, I won\u2019t get into here. And finally, since I don\u2019t pretend to too great a degree of originality in this account (see footnote 5), I suspect there exist more detailed explications than what I\u2019ve given in skeleton. My aim isn\u2019t to give a precise definition of \u201cfiction\u201d and \u201cnonfiction\u201d but only to make a plausible case that no such definitions are possible without reference to the intentions of authors.\",\"id\":\"bca72b45-4d97-4496-bcd6-5f98821a36f5\"}]"},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/508"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=508"}],"version-history":[{"count":18,"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/508\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":531,"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/508\/revisions\/531"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=508"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=508"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jasondeadcat.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=508"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}