The introduction of the digital landscape has drastically changed traditional methods of discovering, reading, annotating, and interpreting literature. The scholarly capabilities of this particular concentration are much broader with this new approach—essentially, researchers can now take readings and quantify their contents into concrete data, which was formerly regarded as generally abstract information. This allows for patterns, trends, and effects to emerge and be examined in an academic context, giving literary interpretation an entirely new depth and dimension. The increasing popularity of these tools has created an interesting paradox: that although we study works of literature more closely, we actually distance ourselves from the texts by no longer viewing them as whole entities but merely collections of various quantifiable elements, a concept introduced by Franco Moretti in Graphs, Maps, Trees (2007). While it can be argued that this detachment is too far removed from the original intent of the author, in fact, a certain objectivity is useful in literary interpretation; it prevents preconceived notions or personal interests from coloring perception, and provides inherently impartial insight of the text itself. This kind of study has the potential for endless applications outside of the curriculum—as we reside in a digital world that continues to evolve into a more analytical and data-driven environment, refreshed methods of evaluation allow classical literature to remain pertinent to today’s readers.
Although digital texts may seem slightly unconventional, they are gradually becoming an integrated part of the field of literary study, as asserted by Yin Liu in “Ways of Reading, Models for Text, and the Usefulness of Dead People” (2014). Liu states that regarding early literature, we cannot expect that people in other historical and cultural contexts used texts in the ways modern scholars do today For example, the “strangeness” of the verbiage in medieval texts allows us to view and analyze them without immersion in the content, thus fostering ease of recognition of periodical idiosyncrasies and acknowledgement of expressions of data. While distance between reader and text seems counterintuitive in literary interpretation, it provides a more comprehensive context within which to view and process existing information. It offers a sharper sense of interconnection and patterns; as new generations of readers develop, classical literature often loses its appeal, seen as irrelevant or outdated (Moretti, 5). Similarly, Liu argues that it discourages assumptions about the universality and necessity of text, when in fact it might be attributed to “our own historical position and cultural prejudices” (2014). The concept of the “usefulness of dead people” is rooted in Liu’s belief that contemporary analysis has rendered literature somewhat immortal—the use of new methods of investigation creates a fresh perspective that maintains its usefulness over time, so that the contributions of historical figures may always remain applicable, even to the digital age. It is important to note that the significance of literature is not necessarily its ability to stay current, but to present a cohesive depiction of thoughts and ideas, from which readers can derive personal meaning that transcends time. Much of the inquiry into basic text analysis includes word frequency, which can actually serve as valuable insight into important aspects of text. My analysis of “The Importance of Being
Earnest” by Oscar Wilde was the first exercise in which I saw a direct connection between the data I was extracting and the meaning of the text itself. The unique format of plays differs from that of novels allows an almost precise correlation between the number of times a character’s name is mentioned and the amount of dialogue attributed to said character. For example, while Gwendolen is arguably a more important character than the young, naïve Cecily, “Gwendolen” appears only 157 times in contrast to “Cecily,” which appears 254 times. This ostensibly trivial piece of information reveals a surprising amount about the two women’s characters. While Gwendolen is portrayed as vain, shallow, and rather vapid, with little to contribute to conversation, Cecily is sharp-tongued and largely self-important, which can be attributed to her desire to be heard and taken seriously. After using the scrubbing tool in Lexos, the most frequently-used word was “am,” which is always used in conjunction with “I,” used 110 times, which accurately reflects the nature of the characters of the play: self-centered and concerned only with their own social status and public image. The absurdity of the characters, along with the title of the play itself (“A Trivial Comedy for Serious People”), is true to Wilde’s tongue-in cheek style of mockery and acknowledgement of the hypocrisy and arrogance of the aristocracy. The fact that we can infer these things from a piece of literature written over a century ago is truly amazing and exciting—not only is a sense of connection created between past and present, but these developments in modern literary interpretation allow for the collection of concrete data to support research questions and assumptions, something that wasn’t possible a mere decade ago. Prior to the use of digital analytics, much of literary study was theoretical guesswork, which is tremendously subjective and has the potential to be wildly imprecise; however, these new methods have revolutionized and transformed into a science this formerly abstract practice, which is undoubtedly beneficial for both the longevity of the text and the research interests of scholars.
As consumer culture and academic pursuits become increasingly digital territory, and the demand for print materials is in decline, it is easy to question the nature of literature and its place in modern society. However, digital text analysis and data mining from something as subjective as literature is invaluable: this transition is proof that literature, like any other important art form, has adapted and involved in a significant and relevant way—to fit into a world that is progressively more methodical and dependent upon quantitative data. Literary interpretation has acquired a multifaceted and multidisciplinary complexion, and the ability for readers to remove themselves from the text and dissect its components for subtleties or idiosyncrasies is nothing short of radical. Michael Witmore writes in his blog post “Text: A Massively Addressable
Object,” that the ability to quantify literature creates endless possibilities of inquiry: different levels of scale and objects of addressability allow us to address it on numerous different levels that would not be possible. The fact that literature has so many new real-world applications due to technology is evidence of its usefulness, whether written five or five hundred years ago, and a testament to the permanence of literature itself.
