The Scientific Study of Literature
A theme throughout Anatomy of Criticism is Frye’s insistence that literary criticism be undertaken scientifically. That doesn’t mean Frye wants us to do experiments with books or turn books into numbers. Instead, Frye has in a mind a mode of thinking. To him, scientific thinking means deriving general principles from specific examples. We read a lot of books, and from these books, we understand a larger literary system, with modes, symbols, myths, and genres that repeat across multiple works of literature. This is the kind of criticism Frye advocates. In each chapter, Frye works toward a logical system of literature, drawing from a wide survey of Western culture and history.
Literature vs. Other Domains of Knowledge
At the same time that Frye advocates for thinking of literary criticism as a type of scientific study, he also is invested in keeping literature separate from other domains of knowledge. The key thing, for Frye, is to carve out a space for literary criticism that is distinct from philosophy and history. Literary criticism isn’t just another type of philosophy, nor is it just a history of the books that have been written. Rather, it should develop its own coherent, distinct system, just like philosophy is a system of ideas and history is a system of events. Developing an understanding of a literary system not only helps us better organize individual works of literature, because we have a tool kit for dissecting them. It also helps establish an entire discipline of thinking and study. This is about careers in addition to knowledge. Frye wants there to be a special and separate space in universities for literary criticism, autonomous from other domains of knowledge.
Literary Criticism and the Greeks
Frye’s discussion in the First Essay begins with Aristotle, and at many times, he returns to Aristotle and other Greek philosophers to kick-start his discussion. For instance, in the Fourth Essay, he argues that genre criticism has not progressed since “the ancient Greeks,” and he proceeds to update and expand what the Greeks said about genre. Usually, Frye’s source of reference is Aristotle’s Poetics, an unfinished book that set out the principles of poetry, which in Aristotle refers to the art of what we'd now call "literature" as a whole. Aristotle was particularly interested in tragedy, but Frye draws upon his analysis to understand the parts and functions of poetry beyond just tragedy. Throughout, Frye is both deferential to Aristotle and confident that Aristotle’s thinking is insufficient to understand all the Western literature that came after him. It is this balance of citation and elaboration that Frye aims for.
Induction vs. Deduction
In the “Polemical Introduction,” where Frye advocates for a scientific literary criticism, he explains that what he has in mind is induction. This refers to deriving general principles from specific instances. For example, physicists might derive a gravitational constant from watching specific objects fall in repeated cases. Frye is thus calling for a literary criticism that goes hunting for general principles, such as a larger system of symbols or genres that can explain individual works of literature. At the same time, he explains that Anatomy of Criticism itself is presented deductively. That means he gives the general principles first and then goes on to provide examples. He might name a particular genre, like fiction, and then list some examples of fiction. One theme throughout the book, then, is a balance between inductive thinking and deductive presentation. At times, Frye will write out his thinking as it occurred to him, so it looks inductive. At others, he will write the conclusion of his thinking, so it looks deductive. But however it is presented, the method Frye advocates is inductive thinking.
Search for a Common Principle
Since Frye is interested in inductive thinking—deriving categories from the comparison and synthesis of specific examples—much of Anatomy of Criticism is an exercise in looking for a common principle underlying a set of literary works. In other words, he looks for a single criterion that can organize a given subsystem. In the first chapter, for instance, he looks at modes, and the criterion is the power of action of characters; thus, you can fill in the different modes from least to most powerful. In the second chapter, he looks at symbols, and the criterion is the scale of reference, moving from a symbol that refers internally, to a symbol that refers externally, to larger and larger object—ultimately the entire universe. Having a single principle allows Frye to multiply complexity while still keeping it logically contained.
The Search for New Names
Anatomy of Criticism is primarily interested in developing keywords and concepts for understanding literature. It thus has a difficult balance, because it must define terms we already have while also developing new terms. One theme throughout the book is thus that we can’t take for granted what a word means just because we recognize it. We have to see how the word fits in within the system Frye is describing. When no given word will do, Frye will come up with a new word. For instance, he is unhappy with “epic” as a name for a genre, because it seems too limited, referring only to long poems like the Odyssey or the Iliad when Frye would like to have a name for any work of literature intended to be read aloud. Thus, Frye uses the term “epos” instead of “epics.”
Personal vs. Thematic
One distinction that recurs throughout Anatomy of Criticism is between works of literature focused on people’s stories and works that are focused on ideas. In the First Essay, for instance, Frye divides the five modes of literature into two main kinds of literature: what he calls “fictional” and “thematic” works of literature. Fictions are primarily narrative, which means their essential element is a plot. In contrast, thematic works are primarily about ideas. In the Fourth Essay, Frye makes a similar distinction within printed works of literature. Some printed books have stories that are “personal,” and they focus on human characters. Other books are “intellectual,” and they focus on expressing or exploring an idea. In both essays, there is a similar distinction, and the “personal” or “fictional” stand in contrast to the “thematic” or “intellectual.” This is an important theme, because the distinction is not itself a part of defining any other categories Frye explores: modes, symbols, myths, or genres. Instead, it is a distinction that repeats within each category.
