In Jeanett DeCelles-Zwerneman’s instructive treatise, A Lively Kind of Learning: Mastering the Seminar Method, she makes an important claim about learning to read a work on its own merits, rather than with the prejudices that frequently arise out of one’s intimate knowledge of the author. She writes,
Ray Carver was an alcoholic and Rousseau abandoned his children…If students knew the details of Dickens’ cruelty to his wife, many would never be able to read and embrace his masterpiece, Our Mutual Friend. As Ben Jonson wrote in reference to Shakespeare, “Reader looke / not on his Picture, but his Booke.” Seminar leaders need to train their students away from their ad hominem impulses toward a sober reading of the work itself. All men are iniquitous. Nonetheless, some transcend their frailty to create beautiful works of arts and compelling philosophical arguments.
This is a remarkably insightful point, one in which I believe she is absolutely right; so, I’m not taking issue with her point as it stands in the context of her argument.
However, I do wonder, after we have mastered The Piety of Learning, if there is any sense in which we should consider how the author’s life affects the credibility of his work or argument. For example, returning to the example of Rousseau, after judging the arguments of Emile on their own merits, should we allow his abandonment of his five children to weigh on the strengths of his arguments for how to educate children?
I’d be interested to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Daniel says
I believe we need to let the writing speak for itself because if we look at the back ground of somebody’s past we would never know or sing amazing grace or read all of Paul’s letters in the bible .