We worked through Michael Lewis’s "Cross-Buying" in class today.  I hope you now have a better understanding of how to go about annotating a text.  If you are still unsure of where to begin, here’s a quick set of guidelines:

1.   Make sure you have a working knowledge of the devices we have discussed in class so far.  These include:
Diction
Imagery
Detail
Audience
Speaker
Tone
Any other devices with which you are familiar
2.   Skim the piece once to get a general idea of the argument.  If you want to begin marking up your page at this point, go ahead, but the first pass should simply give you perspective on the work.
3.   Begin reading the work more closely, looking for words or phrases that stand out (because they are unusual, interesting, or unfamiliar), devices that you recognize, and any counter-arguments presented.  Each time you come across something worth marking, ask yourself "Why has the author included this?  What does it do for the work?  How does it help/hurt the argument?"
4.   Look for the thesis.  This is rarely at the end of the first paragraph in published works, and not always a single sentence.  The thesis should cover the scope of the argument.  For example, in "Cross-Buying," the author states that his "fondness for buying women’s clothing is nothing more than a fondness for—and a curiosity about—women themselves."  It is important to understand what the author is arguing before you begin writing about the work.
5.   Finally, go over the work one more time, focusing on your annotations.  How do they fit with the thesis?  Does your interpretation of each support or contradict the author’s thesis?  (If they contradict it, you may have misunderstood something.  Or the piece is poorly written/argued.  It’s possible.)  Do you see any connections between the various devices?

That’s it.  I like to use several colors to annotate a work (diff colors for vocab/interesting things, things I don’t understand, questions I have, and reactions), but do whatever works for you.  The important thing is that your hands are busy.  It will take longer to read a work at first, but this will eventually become second nature to you.  Pretty soon you won’t be able to read without a pen in your hand.  You’ll be better for it, I promise.

Click below for image from class.

I blacked-out some of the article for copyright purposes (we are using this for our classroom, so it falls under fair use, but I cannot publish a full copy).

[Lame.  I posted the wrong old one before.]

Okay, not really. Connotation and denotation. These are important not only because they are vital to metaphors, metonymy, and such, but because they are fairly simple terms and can make a world of difference in an essay.

The DENOTATION of a word is the literal dictionary definition of a word. (Quick mnemonic: denotation and definition both begin with "de." Add "dictionary" to the mix and they all start with "d." Big D little d what begins with d? Dr Seuss, anyone? No? Moving on…)

Anyway, the CONNOTATION of a word is the meaning implied or suggested by the word and its CONtext (the words that surround it). That’s it. The difficulty comes when we must learn to recognize these terms in their various incarnations. But don’t worry, I have examples!

The name of the rock band Rage Against the Machine plays on the word "machine." In this case, "machine" can mean numerous things, but I’ll take a stab at it: "the Man," "the government," "major corporations," "major industries." . . . Well, I think I hit all of those when I said "the man." This is an example of METONYMY, where something associated with another thing is used to name the first.  It’s easier to imagine a METaphor (another mnemonic) for a piece of something.

Following the previous example, Fiona Apple’s latest (to my knowledge) album, Extraordinary Machine contains the same word (machine), but in this case she uses it proudly to name herself. One could say in an essay, "While it may seem odd that Apple describes herself as a ‘machine,’ within the album the word connotes a sense of power and resilience. She gets knocked down, but as the metaphor implies, she keeps moving forward with ‘extraordinary’ mechanistic ability."

"Zoot Suit Riot" is a famous swing song by the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies. Gesundheit. The title refers to battles between the "Zoot Suiters" and sailors in California during WWII. As with "machine" earlier, while the word’s denotation points to an article of clothing, the connotation and context (clothes can’t riot. At least not when you’re in the room…) refer to the people wearing them. Aww… sneaky metonymy.

Enough of the music examples. Here is one from literature:

Art is the antidote that can call us back from the edge of numbness, restoring the ability to feel for another.

—Barbara Kingsolver, High Tide in Tuscon

Now. Why does she choose the word "antidote"? The denotation of this word elicits medicine—a cure. This is emphasized by her use of "restoring" later in the sentence. I now know that she wants to convey the idea that our "ability to feel for one another" is sick (it is not as it should be), and that art can help that. By drawing out the metaphor of a sick ability to feel, she piles her reader with meaning. Our thoughts go back through experiences with medicine, with connections to the sick, and with art and its palliative power. All by choosing her words carefully.

Take a look at The Decemberists song "The Infanta" from their album Picaresque. The artists use words that may be unfamiliar to the listener, words like "palanquin," "standards" (meaning flags denoting position and duty), and "phalanx." How does this help the "feel" of the piece? Again, we find DICTION and TONE inextricably combined.

Stay tuned for the next part in this series: "The Wizard of ID or, Imagery and Detail in Your Everyday Write."

Today we went over the old TP-CASTT model for poetry/music analysis.  Then we tore it apart.  In doing so, we found the most appropriate method for us to use in analyzing any work, but shorter pieces in particular.  Here is what we came up with:

Awesome.  You all (inadvertently?) created a workable representation of the rhetorical triangle using the common sense you apply to describe the things you enjoy.  This is going to be a good year.

The rhetorical triangle is used to describe the interaction of the reader, the writer, and the message itself.  From what you have given me, it could be constructed this way:  A writer presents some information (imagery, symbolism, or a straightforward statement to the audience.  The reader then takes this structure and applies it to what he or she has read (looking for allusions) or experienced.  This "reader history"  is then applied to the message.  If it fits, then you have a solid interpretation or analysis.  If not, ’round we go again.  (We’ll discuss this "application of reader history" in more detail tomorrow.

We will continue looking at poetry on Friday, so if you have a song that you particularly enjoy, share it!  Together we’ll try to find a new way of interpreting it.  The song’s author does not necessarily have to be British, but that would be nice.  Even better:  Can you find a poem or song similar to Stevie Smith’s "Not Waving but Drowning"?

I came across Bad Idea magazine in Barnes & Noble the other day while looking for the latest printing of The Believer (music issue with CD!).  These things happen, mags are potato chips, etc….

This feature from Bad Idea‘s website illustrates the editing process undertaken before an article is printed.  Check out the deletions from first and fourth paragraphs: It is a very short piece, but strong because the editor removes the initial pathos-laden information, allowing the reader to ease into the story and the rising action. The details of Marko’s life are only hinted at in the beginning, as the author mentions he "fled to Belgrade," "had run out of money," and now "packs as adroitly as a refugee."  These small details pique the reader’s curiosity but do not deliver enough information to satisfy.

The climax ("’For me, I felt happy about 9/11’") and the surrounding buildup is left mostly intact, with one important exception: the editor’s command of "Show, don’t tell." If there is only one mantra you remember in your studies as a creative writer, make it this one. These asides and clarifications have the effect of pulling the reader from actively imagining and engaging with the scene to passively accepting information. In this case, it’s as if the author is presenting a good movie, but pausing every so often to talk about what is going on.

All writing is about communication; creative writing (even creative nonfiction) is about communicating an experience.  If your reader feels what you feel, sees what you see, then you’ve done your job as a writer.  If your reader senses your presence in the experience, you have "broken the fourth wall" (to borrow a phrase from theatre) and the connection is lost. As soon as you speak to your reader instead of about the story, you have taken away his or her chance to actively reflect (which is the very thing that makes reading fun and engaging).  This is the challenge for all you creative writers: tell your story, let the audience make of it what they will.