Vertigo makes me dizzy.

December 4, 2007 8:14 PM

Hitchcock's Vertigo. Two things I don't get. Massive spoiler within.

The very beginning: How does he get back up on the roof -- or does he fall and somehow just get hurt, rather than die? That looked like a rather hopeless situation he was in, hanging onto a flimsy gutter off the edge of a stucco roof.

The very ending: Why does she freak out because of a nun and jump off the tower? or did she startle and blunder off? Either way, this felt like a vague ending to me.

posted by Camofrog to media & arts (38 comments total)

The beginning: it's never explained, but presumably he fell and just got hurt, which is why he has the cane and stuff in the early scene with Midge.

The very end: I've always assumed she freaked out when she saw the nun (who looks all dark and ghostly) and just falls off. Also, it's supposed to be all poetic justice. (Because he thought he'd lost her, and then by the end he really did.)
posted by SoftRain at 8:27 PM on December 4, 2007

I haven't seen this in forever, so I can't remember the beginning, but I do remember the ending. She thought the nun was the ghost of the woman she was emulating, especially since that woman had died in the same place.
posted by katillathehun at 8:28 PM on December 4, 2007

As for the end, it seems that she got scared and slipped off. The beginning and end work as bookend-like emotional jolts.
posted by cmgonzalez at 8:29 PM on December 4, 2007

Big Hitchcock fan here. I've seen the movie at least a half dozen times and here's my take:

1. I've always assumed he fell onto a higher ledge, hence the cane in later scenes. Or it's possible a cop helped him get up and the injury was sustained in the initial slip.

2. I've always taken this as her being startled by a nun coming out of nowhere, which causes her to lose her bearings and fall.
posted by dhammond at 8:30 PM on December 4, 2007

I have no idea how he got back on the roof. The movie simply doesn't explain it. I could come up with scenarios, but that would just be me making things up. Unlike you (I guess), I don't feel this "omission" was bad storytelling. A scene showing how he got off -- or an explanation -- would have been gratuitous (in terms of not being connected to the emotional story).

I don't find the ending odd at all (in which, I think, she gets startled and falls). She was in a highly emotional state, standing vary near a precipice, and a shadowy form suddenly appeared.

I think the ending -- like most of the film -- is beautiful. But the power of that film is emotional (and not at all rational). It's dreamlike. It either connects to you or it doesn't. I've met people who see it and feel like "so what?" I don't think they're wrong or deficient. They're just emotionally different from me.

That entire movie could be one of my dreams.
posted by grumblebee at 8:31 PM on December 4, 2007 [2 favorites]

I've never thought of it the way that katillathehun does, but that explanation is quite good and makes sense. Who knows?
posted by dhammond at 8:32 PM on December 4, 2007

She thought the nun was the ghost of the woman she was emulating

This is an okay interpretation, but it's not explicit in the film (that she thought it was a ghost) and it's not necessary to explain her fall.
posted by grumblebee at 8:32 PM on December 4, 2007

I just pulled Donald Spoto's "The Art of Alfred Hitchcock" off the shelf and here's what he says about the ending:

Judy then sees a black-shrouded figure rise up -- is there a "bringing back" of Madeleine Elster? "Oh no!" Judy gasps, stepping back as the figure steps foward, saying quietly, "I heard voices." And then with a piercing scream Judy falls to her death. The voice, now clearly identifiable as that of a nun, says, "God have mercy!" -- the film's last words, significantly -- and she tolls the mission bell.

Given Spoto's superb knowledge of Hitchcock, I'd say this definitely supports the theory that Judy thought it was the ghost of Madeleine Elster. Great book, by the way...one I obviously have not read in some time.
posted by dhammond at 8:38 PM on December 4, 2007

This is an okay interpretation, but it's not explicit in the film (that she thought it was a ghost) and it's not necessary to explain her fall.

Er... but it does explain that she might have been startled into jumping.

Anyway, it just occurred to me that one of my parents probably told me that she thought she saw a ghost when I was a kid, and it just always stuck with me in subsequent viewings.
posted by katillathehun at 8:40 PM on December 4, 2007

Er... but it does explain that she might have been startled into jumping.

Yes, it does explain a POSSIBLE reason.

Given Spoto's superb knowledge of Hitchcock, I'd say this definitely supports the theory that Judy thought it was the ghost of Madeleine Elster.

This is one of the oddest statements I've ever read. Literally what happens in the movie, which you can rent and watch, is that the nun appears Madeleine (who seems to be scared) falls. It doesn't matter how much knowledge Spoto has; he can't read Madeleine's mind. The best he can do is offer an interpretation. His interpretation -- being an interpretation -- is no more right (or wrong) than anyone else's. It may be an one that you like -- that makes the film more meaningful or understandable to you. If so, great.
posted by grumblebee at 8:48 PM on December 4, 2007

I'm not sure why that's so odd to you. All that I mean by "supports the theory" is that it means it's entirely plausible that that's what it was supposed to mean. But you are correct in that there are no real "correct" answers here.

That being said, Spoto seems to have interpreted that way, and it's entirely reasonable. If I had to guess what Hitchcock's intent was? Yeah, probably the ghost thing.
posted by dhammond at 8:52 PM on December 4, 2007

It doesn't matter how much knowledge Spoto has; he can't read Madeleine's mind

The nun shows up as a dark form and isn't revealed as a nun until after Judy's fatal fall. That contributes to the idea that she thought she was seeing a ghost, in my opinion.

But I guess the only accurate answer to Camofrog's question is that she was startled and fell. What exactly startled her about the nun is up for interpretation, which is probably what Hitchcock wanted anyway.
posted by katillathehun at 8:55 PM on December 4, 2007

The best he can do is offer an interpretation. His interpretation -- being an interpretation -- is no more right (or wrong) than anyone else's.

I don't agree with this, though. I don't claim to have the "correct" answer, but someone who has written several acclaimed books about Hitch is more often than not a better authority than your average joe who may have only seen the movie once. Not all opinions should carry equal weight, even if the subject matter being interpreted is vague.
posted by dhammond at 8:56 PM on December 4, 2007

By the way, I don't like that interpretation. Which is not to say it's wrong. It's not wrong. But it's also not my interpretation.

I reject it, because, to me, the film (or that section of it) is about Madeleine's relationship with John. It's not about her relationship with a dead woman. Madeleine dies (in my interpretation) because John terrorizes her to the point of hysteria -- to the point where it takes a tiny chance event to push her over the edge.

And her death completes the "falling story" that John started at the beginning. John has, throughout the movie, confused his identity with hers. There's even a moment where, in a dream, he seems to fall into her grave.

I like the fact that she falls due to an accident, rather than due to something more "neat," such as him getting so upset that he pushes her. It allows me to feel that he kills her but injects a nice amount of ambiguity. Which stops my brain from being able to totally resolve it into something cut-and-dried (which would allow me to shelve it). To me, that's a perfect ending. Haunting.
posted by grumblebee at 8:56 PM on December 4, 2007 [4 favorites]

dhammond: That is an interesting interpretation. I'm going with it for now.

grumblebee: I agree, this movie is very dreamlike. You've made me think that maybe Hitch purposely left this ending open for discussion.
posted by Camofrog at 8:57 PM on December 4, 2007

True, grumbleblee, but also consider this - Judy was done with her job for Mr. Elster. She wanted to leave it behind her, get beyond her guilt, and start a new life with John. She wanted to be loved by John as herself. But through John, she was chased by Madeleine's ghost. Little by little, he tried to turn her into the dead woman. I like your interpretation too, but it's also fitting that her confusing the nun for a ghost and falling to her death was symbolic of the notion that she could never escape Madeleine (or even her own guilt?).
posted by katillathehun at 9:00 PM on December 4, 2007 [1 favorite]

Good points, grumblebee. On the other hand, one of the big themes of the story is that Scotty is essentially haunted by a ghost of a woman who was suspected of being haunted by another ghost (Carlotta Valdez). That a "ghost" (the nun) would ultimately prove to be the undoing of the two main characters is very Hitchcockian in its own way.
posted by dhammond at 9:03 PM on December 4, 2007

someone who has written several acclaimed books about Hitch is more often than not a better authority than your average joe

I guess I just don't understand what you mean. An authority on what? He can't be an authority on information that's not in the film. That's like saying an expert on DaVinci is qualified to tell you what's beyond the frame in "The Mona Lisa" or what she's smiling about.

Even if Hitchcock literally told Spoto, "She died because she thought she saw a ghost," so what. That would be interesting. That would be the director's interpretation. (The writer might have a different one; the editor might have yet a different one.) But in the actual story, we don't know.

I agree that all opinions are not necessarily equal -- in some domains. A lawyer's opinion on whether you're likely to win your case is worth more than mine. But all opinions are equally valid about what happens to the character is "Hamlet" after the play is over. I've studied Shakespeare for years, and my opinion is as valid as someone who has just seen the play for the first time. Because there's no info in the play for me -- or the first-timer -- to base my opinion on.
posted by grumblebee at 9:03 PM on December 4, 2007

I've studied Shakespeare for years, and my opinion is as valid as someone who has just seen the play for the first time.

I don't agree with that. I'd certainly trust your opinion more than someone who had just seen Shakespeare for the first time, particularly if it involves subtext or something beyond the literal.

To put it another way, someone who sees Marnie for the first time is going to see a lot of things, but they might not notice something like the fact that the color red appears countless times during the film and is essentially a motif. These are things that can often be greater understood (not necessarily "learned" in the sense that they are inherently "true") based on the canon of someone's work. Someone who was studied the canon intently will often have a more fully formed opinion of what's going on.
posted by dhammond at 9:11 PM on December 4, 2007

Each time I watch the movie, I notice a greater psychological element to the movie, to the point where last time I watched the movie, I felt that there was an element of her jumping in that last scene -- something more than just an accident in reponse to the nun's appearance.
Perhaps I've read too much into it but I felt that there was some not-particularly-positive psychological interdependence going on between them (particularly evident in the penultimate scene in the carriage house before they go up into the tower) from which she was trying to escape.
posted by prettypretty at 9:36 PM on December 4, 2007

At least I know that I'm not an idiot for not "getting" the ending.

I guess we'll never know for sure about the beginning or the ending, so I'm thinking about starting a religion around this.

Thank you for the comments!
posted by Camofrog at 9:38 PM on December 4, 2007 [1 favorite]

At least I know that I'm not an idiot for not "getting" the ending.

There are no correct answers in AskMe, only best answers.

That it's open for interpretation is one of the things that makes it so great. Hitchcock really was a king.
posted by dhammond at 9:40 PM on December 4, 2007

There are no correct answers in AskMe, only best answers.

Yep, even when -- especially when -- they are completely different answers. AskMe FTW!
posted by Camofrog at 9:48 PM on December 4, 2007

someone who has written several acclaimed books about Hitch is more often than not a better authority than your average joe

I don't completely agree with this idea in general, but in this particular case I do agree with Spoto's interpretation, in the sense that I do think there's a little bit more to Judy's reaction than simply being startled. (Although, of course, that's a completely valid interpretation!) I think there's also something to be said for the nun representing...oh...Morality come to drive Judy suicidal with guilt for her part in Elster's real wife's murder, although that interpretation doesn't do much for me.

I reject it, because, to me, the film (or that section of it) is about Madeleine's relationship with John. It's not about her relationship with a dead woman.

Yes...but Judy is Madeleine. She's always been Madeleine to John, but by this point in the story she's truly become her. Madeleine is dead, and Judy is Madeleine: so Judy is dead too. She's been dead all along, ever since the minute she agreed to be Elster's dead wife: that spectral nun is just coming up to remind her of the deal she made. And by then, it's much too late for anything else to happen except what does.

kattilathehun says that "Little by little, he tried to turn her into the dead woman." That's the horror story in Vertigo: how easy it is for someone in love to turn a living person into a dead person.
posted by lemuria at 9:54 PM on December 4, 2007 [2 favorites]

To put it another way, someone who sees Marnie for the first time is going to see a lot of things, but they might not notice something like the fact that the color red appears countless times during the film and is essentially a motif.

Oh, that's very true. Maybe I misunderstood you. Maybe you're thinking that Spoto actually noticed a hard-to-see detail in the film, one that's very hard to see unless you've seen the film often and studied it. That's possible. Though having seen the film over fifty times (I'm not kidding), I don't think he has, in terms of the ghost thing. I think he's making a personal interpretation -- filling in gaps in a way that's pleasing to him (and maybe to you).

If novelist writes a 100-page novel, he can have all kinds of ideas about it it, but he -- and experts on his work -- can NOT tell you what happened on page 101. Because there IS no page 101.

He can say, "If I had written another page, this is what would have been on it," and you're welcome to take that seriously. But the fact is, there's still this 100 page book, and it is what it is. Maybe YOU define a story as what's contained in it PLUS what the writer and experts say about it. And that's fine. But it's not required that everyone view stories that way.

A bricklayer built my house, but he's not an expert on what the house is "for" (though he's entitled to his opinion, of course, and you're entitled to care about his opinion). He may have intended the house to be for a family with six children. But the house is the house. It's not the house PLUS his intentions. The fact that I live there without children -- and that this works for me -- clashes with his intentions, but it doesn't clash with the house itself (what would that even mean?).

Some people (you?) view a story as a communication between an author and a reader/viewer. Looked at this way, it makes sense to care about other statements the author makes -- statements that are not actually in the story but are about it. And it also makes sense to take very seriously what people-who-know-the-author-well say.

That makes sense IF you view stories as one part of a complex communication, but that's not the ONLY way -- or the only valid way -- to view or enjoy stories.

Similarly, if a girl writes me a love letter, and then, ten years later, says, "When I wrote you that letter, I didn't love you, I was just faking it," it's hard to say what effect that will have on me. It depends on my relationship with the girl and my relationship with the letter.

I MIGHT say, "That changes everything. The letter is now meaningless to me." Or I might say, "Well, I don't care why you wrote it or what you were feeling back then. The letter itself is beautiful to me. It conjures beautiful images. Maybe that wasn't your intent, but that's the effect it has on me."

That's the crux of it. I don't interpret that moment as Judy seeing a ghost. By "I don't interpret," I'm not talking about a conscious, purposeful act. I'm saying that's not how the movie hits me. Spoto can say whatever he wants, but that doesn't change the way the movie hits me. Even if I wanted it to hit me the way he suggests, it won't necessarily do that. I guess I can say, "well, I'm wrong and he's right," but what does that mean? I'm still going to feel what I feel. I'm going to have a response to the movie that's largely out of my control.

Finally, imagine Spotto had interpreted the beginning of the movie instead of the end. Imagine he'd answered this AskMe question by saying, "Oh, I can tell you how John survived almost falling off that building: someone called the fire department and a firetruck came with a ladder. A fireman climbed the latter and helped him down."

I know Spotto didn't say this, but I'm trying to get a the heart of how we relate to an "expert" interpretation.

I don't think that interpretation is outlandish. It DOES explain how he could have survived. But none of that stuff is actually in the film -- nor is it implied by the film. I can imagine you saying -- if you like that interpretation -- "I'm going to run with that. I like thinking that's what happened. That adds to the the story for me." But it doesn't make any sense to me for you to say, "Ah, yes! An expert said that, so that MUST be what happened." No. What happened is what happened IN THE FILM.
posted by grumblebee at 10:07 PM on December 4, 2007

Yes...but Judy is Madeleine. She's always been Madeleine to John

Again, I'm not saying this is wrong. But it's not my interpretation. I think you're looking at it entirely from John's point-of-view (and, from his point-of-view, I agree with you). But the movie has a really odd structure. The first two-thirds are told mostly from John's point-of-view, with him as the protagonist. The last third is told largely from Judy's.

There's actually a pivotal moment when this narrative switch happens: when John leaves her apartment (and the scene!) and Judy has a voice-over, dictating a confessional letter that she later destroys.

(It's fascinating that Hitchcock makes this choice. From a pure plot point of view, it's unnecessary. The audience could discover Judy's deceit at the same time John discovers it: when he sees Madeleine's necklace on Judy's neck. But Hitchock makes a bold, eccentric decision to switch protagonists.)

My point is that JOHN is obsessed by Madeleine. John makes Judy over in Madeleine's image. Judy seems (to me) to still think of herself as Judy, and what makes her story -- once it switches to BEING her story -- so horrifying (to me) is that she can't break through to John. She wants him to love her for herself, but she realizes he only loves her for Madeleine. To me, that's much more terrifying than the fact that he's making her over.

I think it makes sense for the story to switch this way. We sort of have to leave John when we do, because at that point, he's slipped so far into madness that there's no turning back. He becomes more of a force than a person. The person -- the humanity -- left over at that point is Judy, so it becomes her story.

Sure, in real life, a person who did what she did might very well be wracked with guilt about the her part in the real Madeleine's death. But to me, that muddies what I find so haunting about the end. Which has to do with her love for John and his impenetrability.

And the ironic thing is that it's her fault that he's impenetrable. She did this to him. She made him what he is by playing a terrible trick on him. Just had he made her what she is by dressing her in Madeleine's clothing.

But it's great that you don't all share my interpretation. And maybe I won't share my own interpretation in ten years. One of the marks of a masterpiece is that it can be many things to many people at many times in their lives.
posted by grumblebee at 10:24 PM on December 4, 2007

This shit is Shakespeare.
posted by dhammond at 10:32 PM on December 4, 2007

The first two-thirds are told mostly from John's point-of-view, with him as the protagonist. The last third is told largely from Judy's. There's actually a pivotal moment when this narrative switch happens: when John leaves her apartment (and the scene!) and Judy has a voice-over, dictating a confessional letter that she later destroys.

I totally agree with what you've said here.

I think you're looking at it entirely from John's point-of-view...Judy seems (to me) to still think of herself as Judy, and what makes her story -- once it switches to BEING her story -- so horrifying (to me) is that she can't break through to John.

Clearly, for a while, Judy does believe that John is imposing Madeleine's identity on her, forcing her to be Madeleine. She believes at that point that she's still Judy and that she's never been Madeleine. I think in her final moment, she realizes that she set all of these events in motion, and that it's her agreement to be this dead woman that sealed her fate. That's why she falls/jumps the same way that Madeleine did: she's truly become her.

Not that I think Judy is actually correct to believe that everything's her fault, since John is basically the creepiest creep in cinematic history.
posted by lemuria at 10:46 PM on December 4, 2007

Here's something (maybe obvious) that I didn't notice until a recent viewing. Scottie is standing in a very awkward pose in the final scene. It's nearly the same as the tumbling silhouette in his nightmare sequence.
posted by painquale at 10:58 PM on December 4, 2007

Here's the end of the movie (she falls just after 8:00). She turns and takes about two or three steps before she falls. I think her saying "No" implies she thinks it's a ghost.

The fall starts at the beginning of this weird deleted scene, which was made for "foreign markets" and has an odd superfluous postscript.
posted by kirkaracha at 7:11 AM on December 5, 2007

I think I remember from my Hitchcock class that that deleted scene was meant to remove any ambiguity about whether Scottie jumps to his death after her.
posted by stopgap at 7:16 AM on December 5, 2007

grumblebee, I entirely agree with you about the power of the movie (one of my all-time favorites) and most of what you've said about it. But sometimes you say things that make me shake my head in disbelief, and your remarks about Spoto are one of them:

I guess I just don't understand what you mean. .... I've studied Shakespeare for years, and my opinion is as valid as someone who has just seen the play for the first time.

So... you think one doesn't gain any insight into an artist by experiencing their work over and over and devoting a great deal of thought and care to it? I guess that's a silly question, because you've already said as much, but it's hard for me to believe an intelligent person can think that. It would seem to imply one gains nothing from such experience and thought and care, except perhaps a momentary "good feeling," and why would someone devote their life to studying art for the sake of a momentary feeling? Why not masturbate instead?

How can you possibly feel that all the time, work, and love you've put into Shakespeare doesn't give you any more insight than someone who wanders into a performance without knowing anything about it?

Do you never get the sense, reading a critic (say, Hugh Kenner on Ezra Pound), that "this guy really knows his stuff" and that if you disagree on the interpretation of something, you'd better have some good backup?
posted by languagehat at 11:17 AM on December 5, 2007

So... you think one doesn't gain any insight into an artist by experiencing their work over and over and devoting a great deal of thought and care to it?

No. We're talking past each other. I'm writing unclearly, you're misinterpreting, or some combination of the two is happening.

I might be able to clarify my point-of-view by removing art from the discussion for a minute.

Let's say that someone punches me in the stomach. I am going to have a sensual reaction to that. Probably, I'll feel pain, surprise, fear and anger.

Now, let's say that you're a distinguished professor of Getting Punched In The Stomach Studies. And you explain to me that having studied the phenomenon for years, you've figured out that a stomach-punch means that the puncher is in love with the person he's punching.

Let's say that you convince me of this, intellectually. I agree that you're right, or at the very least, I respect your authority enough to give your spin on it some thought.

Then someone punches me in the stomach again. And -- despite myself -- I once again feel pain, fear, shock and anger. Your brilliant interpretation -- and in this counterfactual, let's pretend it really is brilliant -- doesn't change my gut response.

What am I to make of this? Is my gut response wrong? I guess you can call it wrong. It depends on your definition of the word wrong and what sorts of things you think "right" and "wrong" apply to. To me, it's odd to say that a gut response to a sensual act is wrong.

To understand where I'm coming from, you have to understand that art only interests me as a sensation inducer. I don't give a fig what a story "means" (in a thematic sense). (I also don't think stories have fixed thematic meanings, but I won't argue that here.) A punch-in-the-stomach or story will affect my senses and emotions as they will.

Now I realize I'm painting a simplified picture of how minds work. Sensuality is not cut off from thought and reason. But neither is it completely controlled by thought and reason.

It's possible that an intellectual take on a story, once I've read it and thought about it, will affect the way I sensually react to that story. Whether or not that happens -- and how strongly it happens -- depends of several things:

-- the quality of the idea
-- how strongly intellect and emotion are linked in me (this differs from person to person)
-- how much I've been raised to respect authority (this is really important, since we're talking about my emotions being swayed by an authority, here)
-- how simpatico the idea is with emotional baggage my mind already contains

I agree with you that, in general, my response to a story is more sophisticated the 10th time I've seen in than the first. (Though, to be honest, sometimes the first viewing is the best.)

I don't agree that my 10th-time interpretation is necessarily of value to you, though I concede that it MAY be so (depending on variables that I've listed, above). You will also have your sophisticated viewing, the 10th time you see it. Your sophisticated interpretation won't necessarily match mine -- or be better/worse than mine. Yours will be better for you; mine will be better for me. I'm not sure how one gives these interpretations a non-subjective rating.

I do think there are things that experts can do for us:

-- they can, based on their greater experience, suggest ways of interacting with (e.g. viewing) a work that will LIKELY have a good payoff for us. Similarly, a wine expert can suggest wines that will PROBABLY taste good to us if we're eating fish. There's no guarantee that he'll be right, in terms of an individual person. And it seems perverse to me to say that the person who doesn't like that wine is wrong. He may be eccentric, but he's not wrong.

But I'll spend more time listening to the wine expert than the layman, because -- having tasted more wine -- the expert is more likely to be able to suggest wines that I'll like.

Similarly, I value book reviews in "The New York Times" more than suggestions from random people I meet at parties. But I only value them because they're statistically more likely to lead me to books that I'll like. If I wind up not liking one of the books, I don't conclude that I or the reviewer was wrong. I conclude that, in this instance, the reviewers suggestion wasn't useful to me.

-- the expert can also give us cultural norms for viewing art. In other words, they can say, "You may privately agree or disagree with this interpretation, but you should know that it IS the standard interpretation." I'm bored by that, but I'm sure it has social utility. Certainly, it can help you out, if you want to be an academic.

-- the expert can create a world of ideas for you, ideas that orbit around the story. These ideas can be really exciting, but to me they're optional. They remind me very much of DVD special commentary and features. In general, I'm not all that interested in that stuff. But I know plenty of people who love it. I even know people who like the special features more than they like the movie itself.

I have no judgment for any of those ways of viewing DVDs. They're personal tastes. Some people like science, some people like history and philosophy of science, some people like both.

Even in me, it's not cut-and-dry. I have no real interest in watching an Ed Wood movie (I'm not into camp), but I find Ed Wood interesting as a person. So I would love to watch a DVD of "Plan 9 From Outer Space" with the commentary turned on. I greatly enjoy "All About Eve," and I also find all the gossip surrounding it fun, so I'm into watching it with and without commentary. I would purposefully avoid commentary on "Fanny and Alexander." I don't want that story to have a meta to it. I want it to be its whole world.
posted by grumblebee at 12:01 PM on December 5, 2007

Grumblebee, stop espousing the party-line New Criticism. Extratextual sources do affect meaning, and scholars ARE more likely to have studied those extratextual sources.
posted by klangklangston at 12:18 PM on December 5, 2007

I'm not espousing a line. I've never read New Criticism and have no interest in doing so. I'm just saying what I believe to be true.

I don't know what you mean by "Extratextual sources do affect meaning" because you haven't included any concrete nouns in that sentences. Extratextual sources affect meaning for whom? For you? I agree. For me? I disagree (in general). For many people? I agree. For all people? I disagree.

For "Meaning" in general -- in some cosmic sense? I don't believe such meaning exists. I believe that meaning is a mental construct. It exists in individual minds of individual people. So I can't parse your sentence without know who you're talking about.
posted by grumblebee at 12:58 PM on December 5, 2007

To understand where I'm coming from, you have to understand that art only interests me as a sensation inducer. I don't give a fig what a story "means" (in a thematic sense).

Ah yes, you've said that before but I keep forgetting it because it's one of those parts of your worldview I have a hard time grasping. But given that, your position here makes perfect sense. Thanks for answering with your usual patience and good humor!

klang, I don't think grumblebee is a party-line anything. He's his own party.
posted by languagehat at 1:49 PM on December 5, 2007

No worried, languagehat. Incidentally, I know my view is eccentric amongst the intelligencia (it didn't make me popular in college lit courses), I think it's the majority world view. (Though not a majority MeFi view.) I suspect most "Average Joes" use stores for primarily for sensation. (I'm not saying that makes this view right or wrong.)
posted by grumblebee at 2:01 PM on December 5, 2007

On the other hand, Joe Average can probably string three words together more coherently than I did in that last comment. Jeez. Am I drunk?
posted by grumblebee at 2:03 PM on December 5, 2007