I THOUGHT I WOULD OFFER here the following method of analyzing any serious work, which can be used by readers with no particular expertise in the subject matter of the work being read. If used diligently and repeatedly, with practice it will open an entire new world of meaning to you. This method which, as I mentioned in an earlier post, is one I developed for my Humanities students at the University of Southern Indiana, most of whom were not accustomed to dealing with primary works and needed some guidance in developing better reading skills. This method is intended to be used for “non-fiction” works of all sorts, although it can be (and has been) adapted for reading literary (poetic, fictional, or dramatic) works.
I will confess that this approach to reading is one I boiled down from Mortimer Adler’s How to Read a Book. One way in which I’ve improved on Adler’s method (if I may say so) is to put “evaluation” last, i.e., after the other steps which lead to understanding. Opinion must always be predicated on knowledge and understanding of the matter being opined, otherwise what we call “opinion” is little more than prejudice (i.e., literally, judging before having knowledge or understanding).
Anyway, many of my students found it very helpful, not only in the reading done in my class, but also in upper level classes in their majors. I offer it to you as an encouragement to tackle books that might otherwise seem difficult or off-putting. If you use it consistently, over time you’ll find that you can read all sorts of serious works with greater ease and understanding.
Four Question Analysis of Any Work of Non-Fiction
You’ll find as you go through this method that the keynote is “context.” No work is self-interpreting, neither should it be read simply against the background of the reader’s own experience or opinion. To learn from any work, one must be careful to read it by its own lights in order to understand what the author was trying to convey. Once this understanding has honestly been reached, one should see how the work has contributed to, or perhaps even diverted, the historical discussion of its subject matter. When this has been done—and only then—can the reader arrive at an intelligent evaluation of the work.
1. The Rhetorical Context
What is it about as a whole?
What kind of work is it?
What is the central theme—or themes?
How does the author approach this theme?
What kind of audience does the author seem to address?
What purpose is the author trying to achieve?
There is nothing more surely guaranteed to produce misunderstanding than to fail to read a work in its proper context. This is true of everything from the Bible to the instruction manual for an appliance. Consider how disastrous it would be to read the Bible as if it were merely an instruction manual, like the one that comes with your toaster or hairdryer (undeniably, many people have tried to do so) or to fail to notice that Jonathan Swift is being satirical when he suggested in “A Modest Proposal” that English overlords deal with the overpopulation of their Irish subjects by eating their babies as a delicacy.
2. The Argument of the Work
What is said in detail, and how?
What are the key terms and what is meant by them?
What are the author’s leading propositions?
What argument does the author present, and what are its components?
How do the different parts of the argument work together to support the leading propositions?
Does the author solve the problem he addresses? If not, does he recognize or acknowledge that he has not solved it?
Understanding key terms is crucial to comprehending what the author is trying to say. Once again, context is important in understanding terminology correctly. Then again, it is important not simply to understand individual examples or claims, but to understand them in the context of the work as a whole—are they major claims, or do they support some proposition? Are they statements the author makes, or propositions he is refuting?
3. The Significance of the Work
The work in literary, historical, or cultural context
How does it relate, or respond, to other works?
How does it relate or respond to the cultural conditions in which it was produced?
How does this work reflect, change, or advance a particular understanding of human concerns?
No work stands completely on its own, nor does our attempt to understand it occur in a vacuum. Again, context is key to understanding the significance of the work. In this case, this means that we should consider how this work relates to others on the same, or similar, subject, how it changes or adds to what we already knew or what had already been said on the subject, or even how this work has changed the ongoing “discussion” represented by its particular literary tradition.
4. Evaluation of the Work
To what extent does the work express or illuminate Truth?
Would you say that the work is true, in whole or in part?
What specific valuable and true insights does the work provide?
To what extent does the author’s analysis or account seem incomplete?
In what ways does the author seem uninformed, misinformed, or illogical?
Intellectual honesty mitigates against crude dichotomies of right and wrong; a qualified appraisal is often more appropriate than an absolute approval or disapproval. A work which is mistaken or illogical in some regard may nonetheless offer insights worth gleaning. We shouldn’t disdain Aristotle’s ethical insights simply because he erroneously believe that frogs are spontaneously generated out of pond water, or dismiss Nietzsche’s diagnosis of modern problems out of hand simply because his prescription for solving those problems seems so wrongheaded. Anyone who truly desires to grow in wisdom must restrain (and retrain) the impulse to rely on gut reactions or to give thumbs up/thumbs down evaluations of serious works.
Reading with understanding is a skill that anyone can acquire. The method I’ve outlined above is simple and flexible, but may not seem easy when you start putting it into practice. Keep in mind that it takes time and practice to develop skill in reading with attention and understanding, as it does to acquire any skill. If you are a lazy reader, you may need more practice to build up your reading muscles, or you may need a buddy system or reading club to make your accountable and on track, but if you really want to learn to appreciate great works of literature, is that really too much to ask?
There’s really no reason that reading, which puts the world’s wisdom at your disposal, should require less effort, practice, or attention than, say, learning to play musical masterworks on the piano or building a beautiful piece of furniture that you can pass down to your children or grandchildren. All of these are skills that, of all the created order, only human beings are capable of doing, or even desiring to do; when we learn to do them, we become a bit more fully human. That’s why I insist that it’s worth the effort to learn to read well, with understanding, discernment, and reasoned judgment.