What is a "Good Reader"?

What is the difference between interpreting a book as a common reader and interpreting it like a professional? Is it originality, contemporary relevance, or the rigor with which a comment is developed? In one of the most famous books of the last century, Romantic Ecology, Jonathan Bate addresses this distinction. He argues that the common reader is interested in what literature is about, whereas the professional reader is interested in the ways in which literature is not about the things it appears to address (5). In other words, the originality of an observation seems, according to him, to equate to a better reading.

Take, for example, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Following Bate's distinction, a common reader might focus on the creation of a monster, while a professional reader might explore how Victor Frankenstein himself becomes a monster through his decision to create a body out of dead matter and his subsequent neglect of the being he has brought to life.

My problem with this distinction, however, is that it establishes a hierarchy between direct observation. Yet, whereas it is true that some literary comments are more original than others, what makes them compelling is not so much the originality of an observation. There is nothing unprofessional or intellectually inferior about recognising that Frankenstein is, primarily, a novel about the creation of another being. This reading is particularly relevant today, when we consider the development of artificial intelligence and the possibility that human beings may one day create forms of intelligence that challenge our understanding of what it means to be a living being. Although this interpretation of the novel is “obvious”, it still raises important ethical and philosophical questions. At the same time, it is equally valuable to explore how Victor Frankenstein himself becomes the real by neglecting his moral responsibilities, towards the being he has created and towards his relatives.

Evidently, both interpretations are equally legitimate and capable of generating meaningful discussions, provided that they are supported by textual evidence. My point is that the distinction between a good and a bad reader should not depend on how original or unexpected an observation is. What matters is what readers do with their observations: how they transform them into meaningful discussions (or debates), and how they contribute to ongoing dialogues. Literary theory should not be gatekept as an obscure science. Bate’s notion of a “professional reader” is, in my opinion, a symptom of the “bureacratisation” of literary theory (Coste 17). As the French critic Florent Coste discusses in his L’ordinaire de la Littérature, academics experience a certain pressure to be evermore innovative, to find hidden meanings behind a text. This can lead to a form of obscurantism and a bidding war of originality.

Where I agree with Bate, however, is that professional readers see what other do not in that they can use literary theory (frameworks) to renegotiate a text. In that sense, literary criticism can be subversive and find an unexpected relevance for a text in a particular context, thereby giving it a new life in some cases. For example, the ecological importance that Bate himself ascribes to Wordsworth’ poetry is, in a way, subversive. Indeed, it is probably not what the Romantic thought of when he wrote The Exclusion, although he knew that nature was an important aspect of his poetry.

 Nevertheless, being able to address a reality is also a task that so called “professional readers” must be able to fulfil. Actually, “professional readers” (critics), working in environmental humanities must be able to address the obvious. If literature, and art in general, is meaningful in that in can bring awareness, it must face the obvious. For example, discussing climate anxiety in Byron’s Darkness or patriarchy in Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl is perhaps obvious, but remains nevertheless both productive and necessary. Otherwise, we risk losing one of literature’s function: to confront reality. After all, literature is nothing but reality disguised by imaginary circumstances.

Moreover, if Bate admits that “the critic [Bate himself]’s purpose are also the writer’s” when it comes to his discussion of Wordsworth, is he then not describing himself as a common reader? (Bate Romantic 5)

Although Bate’s distinction between professional and common readers is meaningful in that it points towards the importance of a text’s ability to be subversive, it proves to be a rather reductive form of literary criticism. A professional reader should rely neither on the obvious nor the inconspicuous only, but should be comfortable with both. In any case, the true art of literary criticism is to turn textual observations, whether they be obvious or not, into valuable insights rather than trying to be avant-gardist at all costs.

Works Cited:

Bate, Jonathan. Romantic Ecology. 1991. Routledge.

Coste, Florent. L'Ordinaire de la Litérature. Que peut (encore) la théorie littéraire ?. La Fabrique Editions. 2024.