Saturday, August 9, 2008

Why can't a story just be a story?

The other day in class, I was giving my students an introduction to the Tennessee Williams's play "Streetcar Named Desire." I started talking about how a streetcar is essentially a conveyance that goes in circles, symbolically implying the journey that goes round and round but never gets anywhere. Naturally, I said, this ties in symbolically with the name of the streetcar ("Desire") and how the desire and passion of these people's lives keeps them on this circular journey that goes through "Cemeteries" and ends at "Elysian Fields."

One of my students interrupted and asked, "But how can you say it means all this when he could have just named the streetcar 'Desire' because that was the name of the streetcar in the neighborhood?"

I should be used to questions like this from students, who always want to know why we have to "read so much" into plays, poems, and stories. But I sort of lost my patience, admittedly without losing my smile, and responded, "Because it's never just what it is. Tennessee Williams is a playwright interested in deeper connections. His work, like all literature, is interesting because it works out of these traditions and is rich with metaphor, symbolism, and allusion. Williams isn't writing journalism, after all."

Is that a good enough answer? Maybe not. It is frustrating, when you love literature, to answer these types of questions from people who believe a story should just be enjoyed and quickly forgotten. But good stories, stories with staying power, usually do more than provide simple diversion or voyeuristic thrill.

Tennessee Williams is not known for his subtle symbolism, which is why he's a good choice for young readers just beginning to learn the value of analysis and close reading. If the streetcar isn't supposed to mean something besides just being a streetcar, why does Williams focus on it so much? Why does it keep coming up in the dialogue? ("Haven't you ridden on that streetcar?") Why not just have Blanche arrive in a taxi cab with no name at all?

2 comments:

Charlotte Corday said...

About symbolism: there's a story about Juan Rulfo. It is said that when he finished Pedro Paramo, his work became subject to lots of analysis by critics and writers. Rulfo was invited once to a Symposium, were they asked him to talk about his work, and they praised him for the construction of characters so similar to the greek deities and their issues. Rulfo seemed puzzled at this comment and denied any concient effort to do that. His characters, he said, were just normal people...

(as actors, it is also one technique to read and understand just what the writer wrote, not what he may have wanted to say and specially not to add our own meanings and shadings.. so maybe your students are one step ahead that way. If they are actors.)

((Personally, I was hoping the Streetcar named desire was like the Bald Singer, but no, it did appear in the play more than once and with more significance than just plain absurdity)).

D. Brian Anderson said...

Charlotte, your comment about acting is an interesting one. I've often thought of acting as a kind of writing, because actors essentially "finish" a work of drama by bringing their own interpretations and nuances to bear on the work. The problem with students is that they are obsessed with what the "author may have meant," or at least they put a lot of value on the mystery of "authorial intent." "How can we know the author meant to say that?" they ask. Drama especially presents a strong case for how readers (and actors and directors) complete a work, and how the question of "what the author may have meant" is not as important as "what do you see here?"