IB Docs (2) Team
Marxism, feminism & Freud
Part of understanding the context of interpretation is realizing that readers come to the table with their own agenda. In other words, people look to literature to prove their theories on how the world works. Three traditions of literary criticism that analyze texts within their own fixed theories include Marxism, feminism and psychoanalysis (inspired by the work of Freud). Naturally some readings of literary texts are more influenced by these theories than others. Like most readings, they come in varying degrees and extremes.
The point of the activity on this page is not so much to enlighten you on a theoretical understanding of Marxism, feminism and psychoanalysis, but to show that one single text can be read in three completely different ways. As we have done before, we will look a text through a lens. In this case we will use three different lenses. The text has been carefully selected on the basis of its versatility. It lends itself well to multiple interpretations. You may find that one of the three approaches below suits your Part 3 works better than another. You may find a combination of theories useful.
3 traditions of literary criticism
For this activity you will want to break up into three 'expert' groups. Each group will become the 'expert' of one tradition of literary criticism. You may want to research each theory more in depth before reading the text. As you read the text below, look for evidence that supports your theories.
Marxist, feminist & Freudian interpretations
| Tradition of literary criticism | Evidence from text to support your theories |
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The Marxist tradition
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 The narrator of this story is part of the working class. He has a simple job as a clerk in a record store, which presumably pays poorly. Then man who walks into his store is from the elite class, as he jangles his BMW keys and wears an expensive suit. The presence of this man in the narrator’s store causes the narrator to doubt his self-worth. We wonder if his knowledge of love and popular music is what keeps him stuck in the working class, or if it is what elevates him above the man and others who represent the ruling class. Although he does not define happiness explicitly, he seems to equate ‘unhappiness’ with his financial position in society.  |
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The Feminist tradition
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The narrator of this story is a clerk in a music store, who, in a typical male way, compares himself to another man and quickly assesses his position in the picking order of male dominance. He wonders if he is superior to the man or if the man is superior to him. In order to gauge the man’s social status, the clerk looks for signs of wealth and confidence. He also considers the man’s marital status. Because the man is married, the clerk feels inferior. In other words this well-dressed man has conquered a woman, giving him higher status in society. But there is doubt. The clerk wonders whether his affinity with pop music is a sign of weakness or strength. Although pop music is an expression of emotion and vulnerability, it may give him an edge over the man. The clerk wonders if the man has not had to give up love for financial success. |
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The psycho-analytical tradition
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In High Fidelity, the author, Nick Hornby, expresses a lot of fears and anxieties through his main character and narrator, the clerk in the record store. In this autobiographical piece, Mr. Hornby shows that he is afraid of rejection. His clerk ponders a very deep question: ‘what does this man of high status think of me?’ He says he is not grown-up and does not have a grown-up job. In the presence of this man he is worried that he is a ‘waster’. He wonders if he has let his Id loose in the music store for too long. The man is his super ego telling him to grow up, control his love for music, make sacrifices and get with the program. The man’s success is seemingly attributed to his ability to fit in, get married and get a proper job. In other words, the man’s super ego has tamed his Id, a feat that Nick Horby would also like to achieve. |
Reading with an agenda
High Fidelity
Nick Hornby
1995
This man comes into the shop to buy the Fireball XL5 theme tune for his wife’s birthday (and I’ve got one, an original, and it’s his for a tenner). And he’s maybe two or three years younger than me, but he’s well-spoken, and he’s wearing a suit, and he’s dangling his car keys and for some reason these three things make me feel maybe two decades younger than him, twenty or so to his fortysomething. And I suddenly have this burning desire to find out what he thinks of me. I don’t give in to it, of course (‘There’s your change, there’s your record, now come on, be honest, you think I’m a waster, don’t you’), but I think about it for ages afterwards, what I must look like to him.
I mean, he’s married, which is a scary thing, and he’s got the sort of car keys that you jangle confidently, so he’s obviously got, like a BMW or a Batmobile or something flash, and he does work which requires a suit, and to my untutored eye it looks like an expensive suit. I’m a bit smarter than usual today – I’ve got my newish black denims on, as opposed to my ancient blue ones, and I’m wearing a long-sleeved polo shirt thing that I actually went to the trouble of ironing – but even so I’m patently not a grown-up man in a grown-up job. Do I want to be like him? Not really, I don’t think. But I find myself worrying away at that stuff about pop music again, whether I like it because I’m unhappy, or whether I’m unhappy because I like it. It would help me to know whether this guy has ever taken it seriously, whether he has ever sat surrounded by thousands and thousands of songs about … about… (say it, man, say it)… well, about love. I would guess that he hasn’t. I would also guess Douglas Hurd hasn’t, and the guy at the Bank of England hasn’t; nor has David Owen or Nicholas Witchell or Kate Adie or loads of other famous people that I should be able to name, probably, but can’t, because they never played for Booker T and the MGs. These people look as though they wouldn’t have had the time to listen to the first side of Al Green’s Greatest Hits, let alone all his other stuff (ten albums on the Hi label alone, although only nine of them were produced by Willie Mitchell); they’re too busy fixing base rates and trying to bring peace to what was formerly Yugoslavia to listen to Sha La La (Make Me Happy).
So they might have the jump on me when it comes to accepted notions of seriousness (although as everyone knows, Al Green Explores Your Mind is as serious as life gets), but I ought to have the edge on them when it comes to matters of the heart. ‘Kate,’ I should be able to say, ‘it’s all very well dashing off to war zones. But what are you going to do about the only thing that really matters? You know what I’m talking about, baby.’ And then I could give her all the emotional advice I gleaned from the College of Musical Knowledge. It hasn’t worked out like that, though. I don’t know anything about Kate Adie’s love life, but it can’t be in a worse state than mine, can it? I’ve spent nearly thirty years listening to people singing about broken hearts and has it helped me any?
So maybe what I said before, about how listening to too many records mess your life up… maybe there’s something in it after all.
Towards assessment
Written task 2 - For HL students, the first of the prescribed questions for written task 2 is very applicable to the work that we have done in this lesson. One could see how this question could be answered in light of a literary work for Part 3 or 4, exploring two of the three traditions of literary criticism: Marxism, feminism and psychoanalysis.
- "How could the text be read and interpreted differently by two different readers?"
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