Where's the Canon? (Part Two) -- Fans, Subversion, Snape & the DEs

[ssk7882]

No: HPFGUIDX 34811

Now, where were we?  Ah, yes.  Subversive reading.

Subversive reading tends to proliferate wherever there is reader 
anxiety, or wherever there exists a strong conflict between reader 
approval and reader discontent.  Works which simply offend do not 
inspire such readings; works which both offend and appeal do.  
Subversion is a symptom of deep reader ambivalence about the work as 
a whole; it represents a conflict between the reader's desire to 
engage fully in the text and his reluctance to do so, a reluctance 
often based in the feeling that certain aspects of the work are (or 
may prove to be) unsatisfying, disturbing, exclusionary, or even 
morally reprehensible.  Subversive readings are the visible 
manifestations of that conflict Rebecca referred to earlier between 
authorial intent ("what is actually suggested by the text") and 
reader desire ("the way a reader imagines things ought to be").

Now, to some extent _all_ reader speculation is subversive.  Like 
fanfic, speculation represents a reader's attempt to assume, if only 
temporarily, the mantle of authorial power; it is therefore an 
intrinsically subversive act -- as, for that matter, is immersive 
reader engagement itself.  In order to engage with the text on an 
emotional level, we _must_ insert ourselves into that space which 
lies between Absolute Canonical Fact and That Which Canon Does Not 
Prohibit; by doing so, we cannot help but impose our own desires upon 
the text.  Some degree of subversion is inevitable whenever we engage 
deeply with a work of fiction.

When a work of fiction is presented in serialized form, as the HP 
books are, it even further encourages this subversive aspect of 
reading.  The incomplete nature of the serial offers the reader an 
additional level of indeterminacy in which to imagine and to 
speculate -- more room to "play," if you will -- and also invites 
readers to trespass on grounds that are normally off-limits.  Readers 
of Shakespeare, for example, may feel free to speculate about Iago's 
motivations, but they cannot debate the actions he takes within the 
scope of the play itself: these are already canonically set.  Readers 
of serialized fiction, on the other hand, both can and do speculate 
about even those things which _will_ eventually become canonical 
certainty; they are permitted to exercise their imagination over even 
those aspects of the text which normally fall firmly under the 
authorial aegis.

This is one of the reasons, I think, that serialized fiction 
(television shows, comic books, novels presented as parts of longer 
on-going series, and so forth) tends to attract 'fans,' while 
completed works are more likely to garner 'appreciators.'  The 
difference between the two lies not only in degree of obsession, but 
also in style of engagement.  'Fans' read differently than, say, 
academics do.  They immerse themselves into their chosen texts more 
deeply, more imaginatively, more personally -- and far more 
subversively.  Fan readings are often characterized by ambivalence 
and anxiety.  

The serialized format encourages this because it invites readers to 
don the authorial mantle by entering into a highly active speculative 
relationship with the text, while simultaneously acknowledging that 
the mantle's 'rightful owner' may reclaim it at any time and (come 
the next installment) render the reader's participation in the 
construction of the text utterly invalid.  This is practically a 
recipe for subversive reading, and fandoms -- both of HP and of other 
works -- are characterized by the strange blend of enthusiasm and 
anxiety that this dynamic inspires.  Fan readings and speculations 
always tend toward the subversive end of the spectrum of canonical 
plausibility: this is one of the primary characteristics of 'fandom.'

Wherever there is reader anxiety, that is where subversive reading 
will be most evident.  Because there are specific types of things 
that tend to cause readers unrest (internal contradiction, moral 
absolutism, rigid stereotyping, seeming exclusion of certain segments 
of the population, and anything religious or political are some of 
the Biggies), it is usually not too difficult to anticipate where 
the "fault lines" of a work might lie.

Some fault lines are common to all fandoms.  Sexual preference and 
activity is one such line: both slash readings and speculation about 
the "hidden" lives of adult characters are popular across the board, 
in part because readers are made uneasy by the suspicion that in 
fiction, as in real life, certain aspects of the characters' lives 
are being glossed over, hidden from view, or possibly even lied about 
by the authorial voice.  Sympathy For The Devil readings are also 
universally popular fan responses.  Again, this reflects the fan's 
tendency to view the fictional world as possessing a reality outside 
of the text itself, combined with the suspicion that the Author May 
Be Not Quite Truthful, that the "real truth" is likely far more 
morally complex than the authorial voice is willing to acknowledge.

The fault lines specific to HP fandom fall in rather predictable 
places.  Blood Will Tell vs. Choice Over Blood is one such fault 
line: internal thematic contradiction always inspires reader unrest.  
House Slytherin and its role registers consistently high on the 
Richter Scale as well, partly because it partakes of the Sympathy For 
the Devil dynamic, but also largely because of the inconsistency 
factor: adult readers tend to find Slytherin=Evil jarringly 
inconsistent with the books' generally high level of humanism and 
moral complexity.  Snape and Draco are popular characters for both 
fan speculation and fanfic in part because they serve to personify 
reader unease with these aspects of the work (and, in the case of 
Snape, reader approval at signs of the series' growing movement away 
from the original source of anxiety and discontent).

<deep breath>

So.  To get back to the original topic under discussion, I suppose 
that my real question regarding Snape's relationship with his 'old 
Slytherin gang' was this:

Given that canon is silent on this subject; and given that a case can 
be made for a supposition that Snape actually got on quite well with 
his old DE accomplices (it is not ruled out by the text, and there 
are a few places that would seem to support this reading); and given 
that this is, after all, a fan forum which specializes in borderline-
subversive readings; and given that Sympathy For the Devil readings 
are a popular fan hobby in general; and given that Slytherin=Evil is 
one of the fault lines along which we tend to see reader speculation 
venturing into subversive territory in HP fandom in particular; and 
given that one of the major reasons that Snape is so popular in 
general is because in many ways he is himself a rather subversive 
character...

<*very* deep breath>

Given all of that, then WHY should "Snape really loathed those guys, 
always did" seem so overwhelmingly prevalent an assumption, while "He 
kinda liked them, actually" seemed so strikingly underepresented?

Or, to put it another way: "Given that Snape's popularity as a 
character is itself in some ways subversive -- we like him largely 
because he stands in _opposition_ to those aspects of JKR's work 
which strike us as annoyingly morally simplistic -- why then would we 
prefer to fall back on those very aspects of the work which we found 
so unsettling in the first place when we try to imagine Snape's 
relationship with his old DE colleagues?"

That, at any rate, was what I meant by my original question.  Since 
then, though, a number of people have crawled out from under their 
rocks to express their support for "Snape liked them," and I've been 
directed to a number of fanfics based on this hypothesis as well.  So 
it would seem that "Snape liked them" was not, in fact, nearly as 
neglected a position as I had initially believed.

This discussion now seems to have become focussed on issues of 
canonical _plausibility._  That's fine.  I'm perfectly happy to 
discuss that.  Just to clarify, though, my original query was really 
more a question of popularity than plausibility -- it was not so 
much "why do people think that canon suggests that Snape detested his 
old classmates" as it was "why do people seem to _want_ to believe 
that Snape must have detested his old classmates" -- which is not 
really at all the same thing.

So.  A few Snape issues, looked at both from the point of view of
plausibility _and_ popularity.

Rebecca and I were speculating on the degree to which Snape was a 
loner in his younger days.  

I cited as evidence for the notion that he was not always a loner 
Sirius' comment that he was "part of a gang of Slytherins," adding 
that: "You don't get identified as 'part of a gang' unless you hang 
out with the gang's other members on a fairly regular basis."  I 
would also add to this Sirius' use of the word "famous" (rather than, 
say, "notorious") when he describes young Snape's reputation for 
curse-work: to my mind this suggests that Snape's facility with 
curses did indeed make him popular with at least certain segments of 
the student body -- his fellow Slytherins, for example.

I also, in previous posts, suggested that both Snape's evident 
nervousness around Moody (who, it is strongly implied, killed his old 
classmate Rosier) and the very depths of his bitterness could support 
the notion that the ill-fatedness of his old gang came as a real 
emotional blow -- that he had, in other words, continued to hold some 
affection for them as individuals even after abandoning their once-
shared cause.

Rebecca countered by pointing out that Snape's obsession with the 
Marauders would seem to have been a solitary endeavor.  Sirius' prank 
was directed at Snape personally, not at his entire gang, and no 
mention is ever made of the rest of the group snooping about after 
the Marauders or trying to get them expelled.

She also offered alternative, and perfectly reasonable, explanations 
for his reaction to Moody: Moody is an *Auror,* after all, and a hard-
nosed and erratic paranoid to boot, so no particular personal history 
is really necessary to explain Snape's reaction to him.

As for the "gang" issue, she wrote:

> OTOH hanging out with a gang doesn't necessitate really feeling a
> part of them, really feeling like a virtual family. It just seems 
> to me that not only does the Snape of the books appear to be an 
> irritable loner, but given the degree to which he seems to act 
> alone and insist on handling things himself, it strikes me that it 
> would be reasonable, based on canon, for someone to imagine that he 
> never *felt* a part of any group as a youth. I'm just defending the 
> people who would imagine it that way -- it seems like one of many 
> possible ways someone would take the canon and extrapolate.

Fair 'nuff.

Viewed from the perspective of canonical "plausibility," I think that 
they are both reasonably plausible interpretations, myself.  I agree 
that "Snape was always a loner" is a perfectly reasonable 
extrapolation from canon, and probably a somewhat *more* plausible 
one than "Snape was once a social creature."

As to why it should be the more *popular* interpretation, even among 
die-hard subversives, however...well, I can think of two 
possibilities.

The first (which Rebecca herself suggested to me in e-mail) is that 
those who identify on a personal level with Snape -- and who are 
therefore those most likely to speculate at length about his teenage 
years -- identify with him _as he appears in canon._  In other words, 
they identify with him as a loner.  Imagining him as always having 
been a solitary creature thus allows readers to project their 
identification onto him in his younger days as well.

The second is tied to the next point, the general unpleasantness of 
Slytherins in general -- and the DEs in particular -- and the 
problems this can cause in imagining what Snape could have found to 
like about them.

Rebecca wrote:

> See, if we are to imagine Snape really liking these people, then
> we have to have some reason to imagine them as likeable.

And later:

> And I stick to my original point that if one imagines Snape to be 
> contemptuous and dismissive of his old friends, then I suggest that 
> JKR gave them the idea. *She* is contemptuous and dismissive of 
> most of her DE characters. Even if they have charismatic (Lucius) 
> or intriguing characteristics (Mrs. Lestrange, for sure) they still 
> seem like villain archetypes. . . . So all we have to go on is Mrs.
> Lestrange, who, however defiant and loyal, still seems like a 
> standard villains, evil-witch type, and Avery who seems to be a 
> groveling toady. My argument is that JKR has portrayed them this 
> way so far, with few or no humanizing, 3D qualities, so it's not 
> out of whack for a fanfic writer or anyone else to imagine that 
> Snape might have found them that way too. Again, it's one of 
> several convincing ways to extrapolate from canon; diverging ways 
> can be convincing too, but I'm defending this one.

That the weight of canonical suggestion rests overwhelmingly on the 
notion that Snape's old DE colleagues were indeed most unpleasant 
characters I do not deny for a moment.  I would point out, though, 
that Snape himself, much as we might enjoy him, is really no charmer 
himself.  He's a sadist, for starters: he actively enjoys others' 
pain and discomfiture.  When he can get away with it, he is cruel and 
abusive to those over whom he holds power, and he really can be the 
most odious toady as well -- his exchange with Fudge at the end of 
PoA is positively *oily.*  (Until the poor guy snaps, that is, at 
which point he merely appears deranged.)  And this is Redeemed 
Snape!  How much more unpleasant might young DE Snape have been, and 
what might that say about the qualities that he appreciated or 
admired in others?

For that matter, with what characters does Snape seem to get along 
best in canon?  Aside from Dumbledore, who is obviously a special 
case, the character he seems to me to have the most casual and easy 
relationship with is *Filch* -- not a person I imagine most readers 
would find particularly likeable.  But (snappish comments and that 
one sadistic smirk over Filch's grief for his petrified cat aside) 
Snape seems to get along with him all right, actually.  Better than 
he seems to get along with most people, I'd say.

I still maintain that what Snape himself might have found "likeable" 
is not necessarily what we would find at all endearing or appealing.  
I also think that in terms of canonical plausibility, JKR herself 
probably does not imagine Snape to have very pleasant taste in 
companions.  (She seems, overall, to like the character far less than 
many of her readers do.)

I can, however, readily see why those who identify with Snape might
prefer to reject the notion that he could possibly have ever liked 
such people.  They certainly do not, to our way of thinking, seem 
like terribly likeable individuals.  

Although Mrs. Lestrange sure was *sexy,* wasn't she?  I...er...

<blinks nervously around room, then retreats behind coffee mug>

Well...er, yes.  Um...never mind.

<clears throat>

The issue of DE likeability is closely related to the last (and, to 
my mind, most vital) question -- that of the perceived emotional 
inability of Slytherins in general, and DEs in particular, to form 
anything that we might consider real friendships.

I wrote:

> <I asked why people seem to find it impossible to imagine the 
> future Death Eaters ever having formed friendships>

Rebecca suggested:

> Maybe because JKR has yet to portray a sympathetic Slytherin other 
> than Snape....Let's face it -- JKR's Slytherin is the House of Bad 
> Guys. Snape is the only exception so far.

When I then responded by expressing my doubts about the possibility 
of a full quarter of Britain's wizarding population being composed of 
murderous sadists or cowardly toadies with little or no redeeming 
qualities, Rebecca answered:

> All I'm saying is that JKR has portrayed them like that so far. 
> Yes, it seems unreasonable and I'm not crazy about it either. Here 
> again, I need to make a distinction between canon and real-world 
> reasonability. In canon the decency deck is stacked against the 
> Slytherin grads.

I agree that right now, this does indeed seem to be the case.  Ever 
since my experience with my "subversive" Snape-the-Recanted-Voldie-
Supporter theory, though, I've been decidedly leery about writing off 
JKR's apparent moral simplicity too quickly.  It seems possible to me 
that the series might continue its forward motion into the realms of 
moral ambiguity, in which case this aspect of canonical suggestion 
might well start to shift even further than it already has away from 
Slyth=Evil.  Only time will tell.

For now, though, I certainly agree with you that the text encourages 
us to read Slyth grads -- and particularly Death Eaters -- as people 
who are not capable of true friendship, possibly not even capable of 
any real form of affection.  They're Dark Wizards, they're deeply 
spiritually corrupt, they are selfish people who at heart can care 
for nothing but themselves.  I agree that as things currently stand, 
this is indeed the most canonically plausible interpretation.

I still do find myself troubled, however, by the fact that even 
readers who firmly *reject* this aspect of canonical suggestion when 
it comes to other speculations and conjectures seem to fall right 
back into it when they start speculating about Snape and his old 
Slytherin gang.  This gets back to a question of reader desire, 
rather than of canonical plausibility.  Why do people seem to _want_ 
to imagine things this way?  It strikes me as weirdly inconsistent 
with the reading habits of the fandom in general, and of Snape fans 
in particular.  Where did all of those subversive tendencies suddenly 
disappear to?  What on earth *happened?*

It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul.

I still maintain that the most likely answer to the question is 
simply that people feel the need to paint the other DEs blacker than 
black, so that Snape's grey can seem lighter in comparison.  And 
frankly, I find that a bit disappointing.

For one thing, if Snape really _was_ always a cut above all of the 
other DEs -- morally, ethically, spiritually, intellectually, or what 
have you -- then to my mind that seriously devalues his eventual 
defection to the side of Good.  It makes it a matter of essentialism, 
rather than existentialism: he was _always_ better than all the rest 
of them by his very nature, and so he made a choice that none of the 
rest of them could ever have made.  I find this idea...oh, I don't 
know.  Distasteful, I suppose.  Both distasteful and severely 
disappointing.  

Snape is by far my favorite character in the books, and he is so
largely because he seems to stand in opposition to what otherwise 
comes across as a disturbingly essentialist fictional universe.

Yes, yes, I *know* what Dumbledore says about the importance of 
individual choice and all of that, but when it comes right down to 
it, JKR's universe still seems to be strongly essentialist.  Children 
resemble their parents; bad people are either (a) ugly or (b) 
attractive, but only in a slick, unwholesome, dubious sort of way; 
and by God, if Daddy was a Death Eater, you're stuck in House 
Slytherin and surely headed straight down the road to damnation.

Snape appeals because from an essentialist perspective, everything 
about the man is just completely and utterly *wrong.*  He is 
unattractive and unwholesome-looking, his office is filled with nasty 
dead things that smell bad, and he is temperamentally inclined to 
bitterness and envy and cruelty.  He is not, shall we say, exactly 
one of the Elect.  

And yet, he is permitted to have made correct choices, thus breaking 
out of the mold that the universe otherwise seems to impose on its 
inhabitants.  Snape is really the series' only compelling proof that 
the existentialist ethos Dumbledore proclaims is at all *true.*

So while canonical plausibility may indeed weigh against a reading of 
the Death-Eater-to-be members of Snape's old gang as anything but 
utterly worthless human specimens, I don't really find that enough of 
an explanation.  Fan speculation is subversive by nature, and it does 
seem to me that the fan culture as a whole shares my sense of 
discomfort with the books' essentialist tendencies.  Canonical 
plausibility weighs against Redeemable Draco as well, and yet that is 
an *immensely* popular fan reading.  Fans are not known for their 
tendency to balk at subversion.

So I confess to finding the immense popularity of "Snape never really 
liked his old DE colleagues -- how could he have, after all?  Unlike 
him, those guys were *really* bad!" to be not only profoundly 
unsatisfying, but also just plain puzzling.  I don't deny that it can 
be readily defended in terms of canonical plausibility, but I can't 
help but wonder why on earth so many people who seem otherwise 
perfectly happy to engage in subversion seem to *like* it so very 
much.


--- Elkins, wondering if she's made things any more clear, or merely
muddied the waters with far *far* too much verbiage.