One of the keywords I continue to gravitate towards is context. Chapter four of Culler: Language, Meaning, and Interpretation, had a lot to say about context and meaning in literature. There were several key concepts that I found thought-provoking throughout the chapter. First, that meaning (and therefore language) is a system of differences. As Culler puts it, “What gives the train its identity is its place in the system of trains: it is this train, as opposed to the others”. This is particularly compelling in the greater context (ha) of literature – what gives literature meaning is “‘to be what others are not’”. This key concept of meaning beginning through difference is expanded on as Culler takes a closer look at language, which brings me to the second concept that I found fascinating in this chapter: that “language is both the concrete manifestation of ideology… and the site of its questioning and undoing”.
Culler consolidates this point by differentiating each practice into poetics and hermeneutics. In short, each practice does what the other does not: poetics “starts with attested meanings or effects and asks how they are achieved”; hermeneutics “starts with texts and asks what they mean, seeking to discover new and better interpretations”. As I was reading this, it occurred to me that many methods of literary criticism seem to combine these practices; beginning with the attested meanings of a text and asking how it has come to mean that, as well as questioning how that meaning can be applied to humanity. Culler goes on to attest to this exact practice.
What Culler concludes, by the end of his chapter, is the third concept that has stuck with me: that “meaning is context-bound, but context is boundless”. Two practices he outlines that deal with this are hermeneutics of recovery and hermeneutics of suspicion. Both practices deal with interpreting the wider context of a text in varied ways. Both practices were compelling to me, giving language to what I have found fascinating about reading any form of literature for a long time. What is context? According to Culler, it’s boundless, the idea of which is both deeply intimidating and liberating as I turn towards contemplating what I want to devote my thesis to. Although this chapter of Culler did not offer me any answers, he did improve both my vocabulary about context and educate me about the specific ways in which I can begin to analyze context in a deeper way. All this to say — oh boy am I thinking a Lot about context (because it’s super interesting) and now I have to think more about what specific form of context I would like to think more about. Thanks, Culler.