Keep it Simple, Sort of

I have some further thoughts regarding the recent article on Ghostwriting.

When faced with any topic wherein one may find a healthy (or unhealthy) amount of debate or controversy, I always prefer to start with proposing a small principle regarding the problem at the core of things, allow that to define my stance on any concern related to the issue, and finally use some creative interpretation to decide how to deal with the aftermath of following that principle. As applied to ghostwriting, my first principle shall be, "Whosoever is responsible for the actual writing of the book ought to receive the credit for it as the author." Simple to understand and difficult to entirely disagree with.

Now, however, is where the various concerns related to ghostwriting pop up and must be answered. For example, suppose that the actual author merely recorded interviews with the "credited" author and composed a narrative from the recordings. Was that work really sufficient enough to garner credit for the ghostwriter? I'm inclined to think so, especially given the precedent of journalistic awards going to the journalists, and not to those interviewed and quoted for their articles. As another example, who would become responsible for possible negative consequences regarding the work? The short answer is the (now fully-credited) ghostwriter, with the explanation being that the same person ought to assume both the positive and negative effects of the work.

Finally, we deal with questions regarding the actual implementation of such a thing. "People aren't going to want to read books about a celebrity instead of by that celebrity," moan the publishers. If people are only interested in what the celebrity is thinking, perhaps the marketing should reflect that the book contains their thoughts and opinions, rather than outright lying and claiming that they wrote the book themselves? Another problem is that ghostwriting is already both prevalent and often even accepted. There is unfortunately no easy answer for that problem, as the law often finds itself with its hands tied in such situations. It is always hard to make illegal something that many are already doing, and then hope to prosecute each offense. If you don't believe me, I suggest reading up on something called "Prohibition."

White Noise

I've been thinking about a novel or movie to use for the upcoming paper, and I think I would greatly prefer to use one of the novels I have lying around. There are a few reasons why I generally prefer to analyze writing as opposed to movies, and for sake of argument I'd like to discuss white noise, or interference via detail..
Part of the problem is that movies often have little choice but to convey the entire scene to the viewers at once, while a novel-writer may choose to leave out details that they do not feel they need to specify. For example, suppose a scene takes between two people speaking to each other in a city park late in the night. The novel will likely describe the dialogue, some emotions, and perhaps a bit of the scenery for the sake of comprehending the atmosphere. If it is unimportant whether or not the moon shines brightly upon the two or not at all, whether the nearby park bench is made of wood or metal, or even what type of coats the characters are wearing, the novel can leave it out. A movie scene, however, cannot help but show you that the moon is illuminating the cheap wood-plastic bench upon which the two characters are sitting in their gray, 3-piece suits. The level of unnecessary detail provided can occasionally detract from the integrity of the scene.
This also tends to confine a movie to a specific interpretation, and while this can be remedied by occasionally doing a "remake" of a movie, often producers will prefer to work with more original material. This, I think, is one of the reasons that people so often are unsatisfied with a cinema rendition of their favorite novel. The view of the novel offered by the movie simply may not conform to the imagined version of the reader/viewer. In essence, it is a conversion of the novel as a text to the novel as a work.

Exclusion?

Upon finishing reading two short works of Roland Barthes earlier this week (linked here and here), and after hearing the complaints of others who, like myself, were continuously balked by the difficulty of reading the passages, I have decided that these two works offer a wonderful example of the principle of exclusion via language.

One recent example of this principle are the complaints that the SAT and ACT college preparatory examinations were biased and that the choice of language (well-articulated American English that you might find in a dictionary or published work) unfairly favored comprehension by (and therefore the scores of) white, middle or upper-class children, who had grown up speaking it, over the comprehension of others who, for one reason or another, had not.

Ignoring the loaded issues present in that debate, we awaken to the possibility that a work or writing could be written, either deliberately or accidentally, in such a way that only a select audience could hope to understand the passages very easily at all. This idea comes back to us with all the subtlety of a concrete barrier upon re-reading the works of Barthes.

The major complaints that I heard from the other students were that the language used was both extremely vague and very copious in amount, that the literary references were obscure and without notation, and that the good Mr. Barthes could have used a good tap or two of the spellcheck key, if not the full-on interference of an outside editor.

The feeling one gets is that the author of these works intended for the audience of readers to have an astonishing background in literature and language, as well as a deep familiarity and agreement with the topic of his discussion. There are not many other possible reasons for the extreme amount of vague words with even more vague and wordy explanations accompanying them. It is most puzzling, considering that being paid by the pound for one's writing has generally gone out of fashion.

The other concern is whether or not this style of writing was done purposefully, or with what intent. Did the author seek to exclude from his meditiations those readers not sufficiently advanced for his taste? Was this accidental, merely the author's natural tone, and if so, what horror must a typical spoken conversation with this man be? In the end, given the title of that first work of his, I must find it ironic that his writing style has contributed to so much discussion of an author that, supposedly, has entered "into his own death."

And Here We Are

Welcome to the new blog. Current population? Me. The emptiness is currently stretching for miles, but that will be remedied as posts are added and topics are explored.

The purpose for this particular weblog is to Provide For the Common Knowledge, Broaden the Discussion on Authorship and its Current Meaning, and more importantly, Provide the Mandatory Input. I'm not doing this for my health, you know?

So come on in, grab a chair (those will be added sometime later), and keep away from the humorist over in the corner, he bites.