How to read (part four). Accepting
confusion as the rule and
understanding as the exception
Martin Lenz
Now that we have looked at how to get started, at some malpractices that
might get in the way, and at some effects of reading for writing, I finally want
to begin to get to the heart of the matter, that is, to the text itself. Looking at
the eager faces of my students, I think many of them usually want to do
everything well and present very smart ideas about the text. I was no
different, but the first thing that needs to be done is to establish a rough
understanding of the text. How is that done, though? Let’s get down to
business.
Accepting confusion as the default state of mind. – Reading philosophical
texts, I generally assumed that I would not understand very much. Confusion
was the rule; getting something was a rare exception. The most impressive
experience of that sort I had when I translated my first text from William of
Ockham’s Quodlibeta. The title suggested that it was on the problem of
universals, but I didn’t understand a word of what I had translated. By
contrast, my students commonly want to grasp how things hang together.
So they often ask how this relates to that. I love those questions and the
eagerness to spot the system behind the remarks. But I often have to admit
that I am not sure what the system is or whether there is one. My point is not
to discourage consistent thinking. However, systematic consistency is first of
all an expectation, typical for contemporary readers. There is no guarantee
that a historical text will meet that expectation or meet it in the way we
expect. Lowering expectations of systematicity, then, is what I mean by
accepting confusion as the default. When opening a book, we often simply
don’t know what to expect. So it helps to accept confusion and looking for
islands that (seem to) make sense, rather than to start out wanting to get
everything and see dark passages as outliers. Accept that you will
understand very little. If you want to rush to conclusions, that’s very
understandable, but you’re going to be frustrated much of the time.
What is the text about? The hermeneutic circle. – The first question that you
will need to answer is: What is the text about? Assuming that you don’t
understand much at this point, you will have to make a guess. That guess is
usually prompted by the islands of understanding, i.e. some details that
make sense. Perhaps this is the title of the text, although Platonic dialogues
will be frustrating in this regard. Or it will be some line in the beginning, with
some familiar words and phrases. Or it might be simply that your instructor
has set the text as an instance of a text about a particular topic. The point is
that, at this point, you’ll be hooked by some detail and draw a conclusion
about the general topic. The projection of of such a general topic works like
a hypothesis, to be confirmed or frustrated by the next details you’re going
to look at. In any case, the move from some detail to a general assumption
about a topic and back to further details back to the general topic or a
refined understanding of it is what is called the hermeneutic circle.
Approaching details. – Once you decided that a text is about a particular
topic, you will begin to see the details as relating to that topic. If the genre
allows for it, you should try and see which general conclusion the text argues
for. Typically, a conclusion is introduced by words like “thus” or “therefore”.
But sometimes it’s more hidden than that. Anyway, once you think that a text
is designed to make such a claim, you will begin to see arguments as an
(attempted) support of that claim. In other words, your general
understanding guides how you see details. If something doesn’t make sense
or is not in keeping with your assumed topic or conclusion, you must either
figure out whether this is owing to a deviation like special use of terminology
or you must refine your hypothesis about the claim or topic. When you hit on
something like this, try to analyse exactly where your understanding breaks
down: Is it about an unusual term or the unusual use of a term? Try to search
for such uses online! Is it a whole sentence? Or the connection between
sentences? Try to analyse the sentence or find a paraphrase! Is it a whole
section? Try to figure out the function of the section or paragraph! Is the
author speaking sincerely? There are a number of questions you can ask.
What helps me most of the time is look at related or similar texts. Do they
have the same kind of oddities? – Above all, remember that understanding a
text as whole is the exception, not the rule.
Placing your own steps in the conversation. – Many people think of reading
as receiving what the author says or, perhaps worse, as receiving
information. That is never true. When you read and begin to think or stumble
along silently, you will have (at least) two voices. You’ll hear the voice of the
author and your own voice. Your tacit questions, your despair or impatience,
your paraphrases, or your nodding and occasional disagreement are present
throughout. Take it seriously! Reading is a dialogical act. And your
mumblings are the voice that engages with the text, making it come alive
and vice versa. Keep a record of what you find important or strange in the
text. But also keep a record of what you think and feel. A passage makes you
feel uneasy? Note it and try to figure out what exactly makes you feel this
way. You find yourself nodding agreement all the time? Why? Are there
reasons in the text? Does it speak to your sentiments? You find yourself lost?
Note what it is and start a search. – If you’re supposed to discuss the
reading and you find that this is too difficult, begin by offering your own
responses to the text. They are just as good as the other voices to enter the
conversation.
Here is part five of this series.