I wondered this summer semester as I taught my students why they struggled to suspend their disbelief when reading works of literature. Have we gotten to such a point that we are capable of this suspension of disbelief only if we see the images flash before our eyes, provided for us by special effects teams rather than by our own imaginations?
How is it that when I read Kafka's "The Metamorphosis" with my students, and attempted to lead a class discussion on uses of disgust as a thematic vehicle, these same students who have likely seen among the goriest of films stared at me blankly and offered only, "well, it wouldn't really happen, so it wasn't that disgusting" as their response? Is it more likely to accept the unbelievable only if it is presented to us on screen?
I'm ashamed by the imagination's laziness and cynicism in later generations.
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2 comments:
I never thought of Metamorphosis as disgusting in a horror film sort of way.
I thought of Metamorphosis as disturbing and sad. I'll never forget the one part about throwing an apple at him and getting lodged in his shell (or something like that).
Dude, when I was reading Metamorphosis, I was picturing the ugliest, most disgusting thing! How could you not be picturing that and imagining that all in your head? Everytime I read a story, I have these crazy pictures going through my head, I'm imagining everything from the way something looks to the sound of their voices to the sounds that are going on around them.
Makes me sad that other people can't experience that.
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