Theoretical Frameworks
Why is an aesthetic reading stance important? To answer this question, one must first look at the difference between an aesthetic stance and an efferent stance. Stance refers to one’s expectations for reading, and is key to understanding Rosenblatt’s transactional, or reader-response theory. According to Rosenblatt (1982), reading is “a transaction, a two-way process involving a reader and a text” (p. 268). A text in and of itself does not carry meaning, but rather it is through the way in which the reader views the text through a personal lens comprised of lived experience and past knowledge that the written word becomes significant. In other words, a text without a reader is nothing more than paper and ink (or letters displayed on a computer screen).
Rosenblatt (1982) identifies within the transactional process a series of “selections from the multiple possibilities offered by the text and their synthesis into an organized meaning” (p. 268). The first selection the reader must make, even before beginning to read, is what the purpose of a given reading event will be. There are two approaches, or stances, to reading a text. The first is to read for information, with the focus being on what knowledge will be taken away from the reading. She dubs this stance “efferent,” a word appropriated from the Latin for “to carry away.” In the classroom, an efferent stance will result in students who are encouraged to uncover a pre-approved, public meaning of a text, and with certain types of documents, this makes sense. For example, someone might read excerpts from the U.S. Constitution in order to glean information about how the government operates. Combing the instruction manual to figure out how to put together an IKEA desk similarly requires an efferent reading stance.
But enjoying a poem is not the same as learning how to vote or construct furniture. Accordingly, an efferent stance is not always appropriate, and a reader seeking a literary experience rather than an instructive one will instead take an “aesthetic” stance. This term is taken from the Greek word for “to sense” or “to perceive” and is applied to a reading event in which the focus is on the personal emotions, thoughts, or beliefs that the reader experiences in response to the text (Rosenblatt, 1982). Whereas an efferent stance involves the interpretation and organization of information, an aesthetic stance has been linked to the visceral experience of getting “lost” in a book that avid readers consistently mention when describing their motivations for reading fiction.
Reading comprehension literature suggests that “comprehension instruction is most effective when it helps readers learn to process texts as good readers do,” that is, by “making connections between their own experience and what they read by being engaged in the story world” (Galda & Liang, 2003, p. 270). When these personal connections are not made, learning is superficial and unlikely to last. I have been troubled by instances in my own classroom (discussed in Artifact 1) in which students have expressed that the only thing motivating them to complete reading assignments is the promise of a good grade (or the threat of a bad one). While it is understandable (and, arguably, desirable) that grades matter to students, successfully turning struggling or reluctant students into lifelong readers may require getting them to redefine the meaning of reading fiction. If they start to encounter fiction in a way that is personally relevant, they may come to see reading as an enjoyable experience worth continuing to pursue.
It is not my intention to suggest that the skills associated with an efferent stance are unimportant, but rather to reevaluate the curricular contexts in which it is appropriate to encourage them, as well as to acknowledge the widely underestimated benefits of taking an aesthetic stance in the ELA classroom. To an extent, it seems that reading for facts is a skill that ought not be taught exclusively within the ELA classroom, especially when a substantial portion of the reading done within the ELA classroom is fiction. Though reading strategies are often overlooked in content areas like math and science, when considering the implications for my inquiry, I asked myself, “What would an English class be like if I could assume that students were learning how to read and write about science, math, and social studies in their science, math, and social studies classes?” I discuss this here:
Rosenblatt (1982) identifies within the transactional process a series of “selections from the multiple possibilities offered by the text and their synthesis into an organized meaning” (p. 268). The first selection the reader must make, even before beginning to read, is what the purpose of a given reading event will be. There are two approaches, or stances, to reading a text. The first is to read for information, with the focus being on what knowledge will be taken away from the reading. She dubs this stance “efferent,” a word appropriated from the Latin for “to carry away.” In the classroom, an efferent stance will result in students who are encouraged to uncover a pre-approved, public meaning of a text, and with certain types of documents, this makes sense. For example, someone might read excerpts from the U.S. Constitution in order to glean information about how the government operates. Combing the instruction manual to figure out how to put together an IKEA desk similarly requires an efferent reading stance.
But enjoying a poem is not the same as learning how to vote or construct furniture. Accordingly, an efferent stance is not always appropriate, and a reader seeking a literary experience rather than an instructive one will instead take an “aesthetic” stance. This term is taken from the Greek word for “to sense” or “to perceive” and is applied to a reading event in which the focus is on the personal emotions, thoughts, or beliefs that the reader experiences in response to the text (Rosenblatt, 1982). Whereas an efferent stance involves the interpretation and organization of information, an aesthetic stance has been linked to the visceral experience of getting “lost” in a book that avid readers consistently mention when describing their motivations for reading fiction.
Reading comprehension literature suggests that “comprehension instruction is most effective when it helps readers learn to process texts as good readers do,” that is, by “making connections between their own experience and what they read by being engaged in the story world” (Galda & Liang, 2003, p. 270). When these personal connections are not made, learning is superficial and unlikely to last. I have been troubled by instances in my own classroom (discussed in Artifact 1) in which students have expressed that the only thing motivating them to complete reading assignments is the promise of a good grade (or the threat of a bad one). While it is understandable (and, arguably, desirable) that grades matter to students, successfully turning struggling or reluctant students into lifelong readers may require getting them to redefine the meaning of reading fiction. If they start to encounter fiction in a way that is personally relevant, they may come to see reading as an enjoyable experience worth continuing to pursue.
It is not my intention to suggest that the skills associated with an efferent stance are unimportant, but rather to reevaluate the curricular contexts in which it is appropriate to encourage them, as well as to acknowledge the widely underestimated benefits of taking an aesthetic stance in the ELA classroom. To an extent, it seems that reading for facts is a skill that ought not be taught exclusively within the ELA classroom, especially when a substantial portion of the reading done within the ELA classroom is fiction. Though reading strategies are often overlooked in content areas like math and science, when considering the implications for my inquiry, I asked myself, “What would an English class be like if I could assume that students were learning how to read and write about science, math, and social studies in their science, math, and social studies classes?” I discuss this here:
While it is true that the ability to decipher challenging texts is an important skill to have, we have to consider our objectives in having students read each of the texts we assign them. What do we wish for them to learn that can be applied to their lives beyond the high school classroom?.... More and more, I am starting to think that reading fiction in the secondary classroom is itself an opportunity for authenticity. If one of our goals for our students is that they become lifelong readers, then reading fiction from an aesthetic stance most closely resembles how they will encounter fiction in the future. (Artifact 2)
While an efferent stance is useful for making sense of nonfiction texts, when fiction is read from an efferent stance - as is encouraged by activities such as plot diagramming and describing characters - the reader is “unable to move beyond detachment into involvement” (Galda and Liang, 2003, p. 270). It is when a reader feels involved in the text that she is able to make connections that are personally relevant and construct meaning that goes beyond the public understanding associated with an efferent stance.
According to Freire (1987), “language and reality are dynamically interconnected” (p. 29), and the ability to read one affects the ability to read the other. The reciprocal act of learning how to read both the word and the world results in literacy. Furthermore, literacy is an ongoing process that continues throughout one’s lifetime. As we interact with the world, we accumulate life experience that helps us make meaning of the literature we encounter. Likewise, as we continue to read and apply what we read to our daily lives, our understanding of both ourselves and the world expands. Thus, though I am certainly interested in helping my students navigate challenging texts, I must also concern myself with the extent to which I am preparing them to choose to continue reading fiction throughout their lives.
According to Freire (1987), “language and reality are dynamically interconnected” (p. 29), and the ability to read one affects the ability to read the other. The reciprocal act of learning how to read both the word and the world results in literacy. Furthermore, literacy is an ongoing process that continues throughout one’s lifetime. As we interact with the world, we accumulate life experience that helps us make meaning of the literature we encounter. Likewise, as we continue to read and apply what we read to our daily lives, our understanding of both ourselves and the world expands. Thus, though I am certainly interested in helping my students navigate challenging texts, I must also concern myself with the extent to which I am preparing them to choose to continue reading fiction throughout their lives.