安東尼·歐曼：評(píng)論的價(jià)值
評(píng)論的價(jià)值
在寫作和寫文學(xué)評(píng)論的時(shí)候，我們會(huì)同時(shí)遇到兩個(gè)的問題：從何起筆？為何起筆？這兩個(gè)問題息息相關(guān)。今天我想談一談理解、解讀、教授和價(jià)值。
這幾點(diǎn)和含義這個(gè)概念相關(guān)。所以總的來(lái)說我想談?wù)勎妩c(diǎn)，其中理解我會(huì)分兩次講，都和“含義”相關(guān)。
1．理解（直覺）
從何起筆？為何起筆？從理解處起筆，但這種理解不能無(wú)憑無(wú)據(jù)，必須有出處證明你的理解確有其義。
在古希臘哲學(xué)家柏拉圖的對(duì)話錄《伊安篇》中，蘇格拉底解釋了為什么藝術(shù)家通常自己都不知道自己是如何，以及為何獲得真理的，連荷馬，就連最偉大的藝術(shù)家們都不例外?！兑涟财芬砸涟矠槔仁且晃粚I(yè)吟誦荷馬史詩(shī)的誦詩(shī)人，也是荷馬史詩(shī)的評(píng)論家。但似乎評(píng)論家伊安和誦詩(shī)人伊安一樣，并不完全了解真理，更沒有意識(shí)去獲得建構(gòu)真理的基礎(chǔ)知識(shí)。
美國(guó)當(dāng)代哲學(xué)家尼古拉斯·帕帕斯提出，要解釋這個(gè)問題，只有兩種可能。第一種就是，藝術(shù)家是騙子，那評(píng)論家就是傻瓜，比如當(dāng)一位作家善用修辭的時(shí)候，藝術(shù)家技巧高超，哪怕自己并不了解真相，也能說服別人相信事物的真實(shí)性。如此，他們便可以讓人相信不實(shí)的真實(shí)。
第二種可能的答案，是真正的藝術(shù)家獲得了“靈感”。也就是說，藝術(shù)家受到了神明的啟發(fā)，所以才能在自己不了解真理的情況下傳遞真理，，接著又通過作品將這種“靈感”傳遞給讀者和評(píng)論家。
盡管“靈感”這一理念已經(jīng)過時(shí)，淪為藝術(shù)創(chuàng)作理想化的注腳，但是西方哲學(xué)中“直覺”的概念卻一脈相承了“靈感”的概念，即受神明靈感啟迪的“理解”。不論是“靈感”還是“直覺”，都包含一種自發(fā)的“理解”，“理解”我們所了解的、感知的真相。
柏拉圖之后，他的學(xué)生古希臘哲學(xué)家亞里士多德是真正討論“直覺”的第一人。亞里士多德的“直覺”和“靈感”一樣，都需要對(duì)事物的即時(shí)理解，對(duì)基礎(chǔ)真理的瞬時(shí)掌握。可能有人會(huì)問了，為什么需要這些？為什么我們需要基礎(chǔ)性概念？人是如何開始帶著確定性思考的這一問題困擾了亞里士多德和后世的很多哲學(xué)家。亞里士多德認(rèn)為，人們從預(yù)設(shè)正確的“前提”開始構(gòu)建自己的思考，通過邏輯的手段達(dá)到真理。這像是數(shù)學(xué)、幾何學(xué)的常見方法。但是，人究竟是怎樣開始這樣的思考的？
亞里士多德給出了答案，從“即時(shí)理解”、某種對(duì)真理的感知開始。正是在即時(shí)理解之后我們才得以由此推論、判斷，從而發(fā)現(xiàn)更深刻的真理。
許多個(gè)世紀(jì)以后，法國(guó)近代哲學(xué)家笛卡爾繼承了亞里士多德的思想，也認(rèn)為知識(shí)的基礎(chǔ)始于“直覺”，并用“我思”的概念例證了“直覺”的作用。他的名言：“我思故我在”就強(qiáng)調(diào)我們最先感知物之絕對(duì)性。這個(gè)首要前提，即笛卡爾所認(rèn)為的“直覺”，就是建構(gòu)準(zhǔn)確世界的基石。
十七世紀(jì)，笛卡爾之后的荷蘭哲學(xué)家斯賓諾莎則認(rèn)為，我們最先感知的真理，是存在本身的存在，是所有事物的存在。我們首先確認(rèn)存在的絕對(duì)性，然后由此推論，構(gòu)建對(duì)世界的理解。
但是這些和（文學(xué)）批評(píng)又有什么關(guān)系呢？
2．理解（在長(zhǎng)時(shí)間學(xué)習(xí)之后獲得）
當(dāng)我們讀書時(shí)，至少是那種讓我們?cè)u(píng)論家愿意提筆一評(píng)的書，我們讀到這樣一本好書才愿意動(dòng)筆寫書評(píng)，因?yàn)槲覀兪艿搅藛l(fā)。，，我們覺得這種啟發(fā)是正確的，想把它講給別人聽，教給學(xué)生，感染這本書潛在的讀者、或是其他因個(gè)人原因有興趣理解的人。
但是“理解”的過程，其實(shí)早就開始了，它和我們的閱讀語(yǔ)言和所受的教育緊密相連。
“理解”是需要長(zhǎng)時(shí)間學(xué)習(xí)才能獲得的，雖然這一點(diǎn)經(jīng)常被人忽視。
我在西悉尼大學(xué)的一位同事，邁克·阿默德最近辦了一場(chǎng)關(guān)于非裔美國(guó)思想家馬爾克姆·X的講座。馬爾克姆·X年紀(jì)輕輕就入獄了，然后決定靠讀書改變命運(yùn)。但是他完全讀不懂，只能加倍刻苦，學(xué)著去“理解”，通過字典學(xué)習(xí)詞句的意思。這個(gè)過程也很不可思議。人到底是如何做到“理解”的？誠(chéng)然，這需要長(zhǎng)時(shí)間的學(xué)習(xí)，熟悉每個(gè)詞本身的意思以及與上下文的關(guān)系，但一旦這些都完成后，有另外一種東西早就存在，一種自始至終都存在的東西，讓我們?cè)谧铋_始聽到詞語(yǔ)的解釋時(shí)就能立刻明白它的含義。如此的理解更像是一種瞬時(shí)的直覺。
3. 解讀
在長(zhǎng)時(shí)間學(xué)習(xí)后，評(píng)論家理解了作品的含義，受到了啟發(fā)，這促使評(píng)論家對(duì)其進(jìn)行解讀，產(chǎn)生向別人闡釋自己感受的愿望。這時(shí)，評(píng)論家需要用力所能及的方法，將自己的理解表達(dá)出來(lái)。
在西方，這通常意味著寫一篇給大眾看的隨筆，或者一篇給內(nèi)行人的評(píng)論。批評(píng)家會(huì)將自己看過的這本書和其他東西聯(lián)系起來(lái)，以助于闡釋其閱讀過程中的感受。
解讀方法多種多樣，但鑒于時(shí)間限制，在此也就不一一贅述，而是引述一二，以得出結(jié)論。
4. 教授（慢讀）
在某些方面評(píng)論家跟他們所評(píng)論的作家很像，但在其他方面又有所不同。一項(xiàng)基本的不同點(diǎn)就在于作家無(wú)需解釋自己創(chuàng)造的“含義”，但評(píng)論家嘗試解釋“含義”。作者引導(dǎo)讀者思考，但評(píng)論家要研究人們的所思所想，拒絕“被引導(dǎo)”。所以評(píng)論家會(huì)嘗試某種特殊的教學(xué)法，但我們不清楚作家是否需要教學(xué)”，或者可能希望教授什么。。
但有一點(diǎn)，人們認(rèn)為作家和評(píng)論家都會(huì)傳授的，那就是“慢讀”。
19世紀(jì)末德國(guó)哲學(xué)家尼采，在成為哲學(xué)家之前是一名語(yǔ)言學(xué)者，專門研究詞語(yǔ)的含義。他寫道，“人們不是無(wú)端成為語(yǔ)言學(xué)者的，，語(yǔ)言學(xué)者同時(shí)也是一個(gè)教授‘慢讀’的老師?！?/p>
我認(rèn)為所有和我一樣從理解出發(fā)的評(píng)論家，都在教“慢讀”。他們用心研讀書籍，并且希望所教之人也能同樣用心研讀。
如今，這一觀點(diǎn)在西方爭(zhēng)議頗大，同時(shí)其它解讀方法盛行，比如“遙讀”則是將文學(xué)作品看作是任意文化中整體趨勢(shì)的表現(xiàn)。
但是我以為，“遙讀”不關(guān)心文學(xué)本身，而是關(guān)心文學(xué)的社會(huì)功能。這是一種評(píng)論，毋庸置疑，但卻不一定完全是文學(xué)評(píng)論而更像是社會(huì)評(píng)論。當(dāng)然，我無(wú)意貶低社會(huì)評(píng)論，僅想論證文學(xué)評(píng)論的價(jià)值而已。
5. 價(jià)值
關(guān)心文學(xué)的社會(huì)功能的評(píng)論家有某些基于社會(huì)形態(tài)和同代人的價(jià)值評(píng)判模式，他們會(huì)就文學(xué)在社會(huì)形態(tài)框架內(nèi)所能扮演的角色對(duì)文學(xué)做出評(píng)價(jià)。
教“慢讀”的老師們呢，對(duì)價(jià)值有著不同理解。這種對(duì)“價(jià)值”的理解，很不幸和開始時(shí)我提到（且一直會(huì)首先提到的）的“直覺”的概念一樣引人深思。
價(jià)值即指含義本身的價(jià)值。細(xì)心研讀文學(xué)作品的評(píng)論家們所關(guān)心的“價(jià)值”，正是評(píng)論家研讀的作品給他們帶來(lái)的意義。
評(píng)論就是對(duì)一本好書的“含義”（且必定和許多其他書籍相關(guān)）進(jìn)行充實(shí)、強(qiáng)調(diào)或例證，評(píng)論的價(jià)值高低取決于評(píng)論家能將充實(shí)、強(qiáng)調(diào)或例證做到什么高度。相應(yīng)的，這也給了其他人學(xué)習(xí)如何“理解”的材料，從而幫助他們理解得更深刻。（就像馬爾克姆·X把字典從頭翻到尾，這本字典就是他學(xué)習(xí)如何“理解”的材料。）
The Value of Criticism
Anthony Uhlmann
In writing and writing criticism there are two related questions that come up at the same time. Where do you start and why do you start? I want to say something about understanding, interpretation, teaching and value.
All of these things are tied to an idea of meaning. So on the whole I want to say five things (because I will talk about understanding twice) that relate to that one thing, meaning.
1. Understanding (intuition)
Where do you start and why do you start? You start with understanding, but something needs to ground or underwrite that understanding. Something needs to tell you that what you have understood has meaning.
In the Ancient Greek philosopher Plato’s dialogue Ion, the philosopher Socrates explains that artists often do not know how or why they arrive at the truth claims they arrive at. This is true even of the greatest, even of Homer, but is exemplified in the dialogue through Ion, a performer of Homer who is also a commentator on Homer. The critic Ion, like the artist Ion, seems to work without either absolutely knowing the truth, or being conscious of possessing the adequate foundational knowledge on which it must be built.
Writing about this the contemporary American philosopher Nikolas Pappas argues there can only be two possibilities. The first is that the artist is a fraud (and so the critic would be a dupe). This is the case with the one who makes use of rhetoric. That artist has mastered techniques through which they might convince others of the truth of something without themselves knowing the truth. In this way they might convince others that things are true which are not in fact true.
The second possibility, however, is that the true artist might be saved by ‘inspiration’. That is, the artist can convey the truth without knowing it themselves if they are inspired by the gods. In turn this inspiration is passed on to the readers and the critics through the work.
While the idea of inspiration has fallen from fashion and has come to be associated with an idealized notion of artistic process, the idea of an inspired understanding, as that which founds the truth, survives in Western philosophy through the concept of intuition. That is, both intuition and inspiration involve a sense of understanding that seems to occur unbidden, as something that we know and sense to be true.
After Plato, his student, the Ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle is the first to genuinely talk of intuition. Aristotle’s intuition, like inspiration, involves an immediate understanding of things, an immediate grasping of a foundational truth. One might begin by asking why is this necessary? Why do we need some foundational concept? For Aristotle, and for many who came after, the problem of how one begins to think with certainty is troubling. For Aristotle, one begins with premises, which one knows to be true, and builds from these premises, through logical method in order to build certain truths. This is the kind of method one sees in mathematics or geometry. But how does one start?
Aristotle answers: we begin with some immediate understanding, some feeling of truth. It is the moment of immediate understanding that allows us to begin to reason, and thereby discover further truths.
Many centuries later an early modern French philosopher, René Descartes, continuing the tradition of seeing intuition as the foundation of knowledge, offers an example of how intuition works with the concept of the cogito. He famously states: ‘I think therefore I am’. This realisation, he argues comes to all of us as something that is certain, something we cannot doubt. From this first premise, which comes to Descartes as an intuition, he argues, the world can be built up with precision.
For the Dutch philosopher Spinoza, on the other hand, who came just after Descartes in the 17th century, it is the existence of existence itself, or all being, that, he claims, first strikes us as true. We know existence exists with absolute certainty and this too can allow us to build up through reason, an idea of the world.
What has this got to do with (literary) criticism?
2. Understanding (after long study)
When we read books, at least books that make us, as critics, want to write about them, when we read ‘good’ books, we want to write about them because they make us feel something. Something we think of as true, and we want to convey that to others, to students, for example, or potential readers of the book, or others who might be interested in understanding for reasons of their own.
But this process has already begun long ago, this process of understanding. It is tied to our education, our relationship to the language we read, in which the good book we have read lives.
We tend to forget it, but it takes long study before we can understand.
A colleague of mine at Western Sydney University, Michael Mohammed Ahmad recently gave a lecture about the African American thinker Malcolm X. Malcolm X went to prison as a young man and decided to change his life by reading books. When he tried to read the books, however, he could not understand them. He had to study hard to learn to understand. He studied the dictionary to learn meanings. This process too is mysterious. How does one come to understand? It is clear it requires long study, knowledge of meanings of words and how they relate to contexts, but once that is achieved there is already something else. It is something that was there at the beginning and allowed us to grasp the meanings of the words when they were explained to us. A sense of understanding that seems to be intuitive and immediate.
3. Interpretation
After long study, then, the critic is given by the good book a feeling of understanding and this feeling drives the critic to interpret. That is, this feeling drives the critic to want to explain to others what the critic has felt. Having been driven to this the critic has to find ways to express this understanding, within the forms open to the critic.
In the West this usually means through the essay for a general audience, or the critical essay for a more specialised audience. Here the critic will usually link the work the critic has read with other things which help the critic to explain the kind of meaning the critic has felt while reading the work.
There is not enough time here to talk about the various methods of interpretation, of which there are many. I will just pass on to one more idea which will lead me to one claim.
4. Teaching (slow reading)
In some ways the critic is like the writer they write about, but in other ways different. The writer does not have to explain the meaning they create, whereas the critic attempts to. This is a fundamental difference. The writer leads the reader to think, the critic tries to move from being lead to think to examining what it is that one is thinking about. So the critic attempts a specific kind of pedagogy or teaching. It is not clear that the writer has to teach, however, or what they might wish to teach.
There is one thing, however, both the critic and the writer might be said to teach. They both teach ‘slow reading’.
In the late 19th century the German philosopher Freidrich Nietzsche, who began his career not as a philosopher but as a philologist (that is, someone who studied the meanings of words) wrote “It is not for nothing that one has been a philologist, perhaps one is a philologist still, that is to say, a teacher of slow reading.”
I would claim that all those critics who work from understanding, in the way I have set out, teach slow reading. That is, they attend with care to the books they read and try to make those they teach also attend to those books with care.
This is a controversial claim nowadays in the West, as other methods are used and promoted, such as ‘distant reading’ which considers works of literature to be manifestations of general tendencies in any culture.
To my mind, however, distant reading is not really concerned with literature itself; rather, it is concerned with literature as a social function. This is clearly criticism, but it is not specifically literary criticism, it is social criticism. I do not mean to dismiss social criticism here, on the contrary, I merely wish to argue for the value of literary criticism.
5. Value
Critics who consider the social function of literature will have certain models of value, related to social formations and their generation. They will judge literature, insofar they do, with regard to the role it might be understood to play within these social formations.
The teacher of slow reading, however, will have a different idea of value. This is an idea of value which is, unfortunately, as challenging as the concept of intuition with which we began (and with which we always begin).
The value is the value of meaning itself. The value involved for the critic who reads literature closely is the sense of meaning that the work the critic has read has given to the critic.
The value of criticism, then, is the extent to which it is capable of amplifying, underlining or exemplifying some of the kinds of meaning the good book (no doubt in relation to many other books) has caused that critic to feel. This in turn will allow others to understand. It will give others materials with which to learn to understand (just as Malcolm X read the dictionary from cover to cover to have materials with which to understand).
