If you kind of look sideways at the etymology of 'analysis', it almost translates as 'ass splitting.' That pretty much sums up how I've felt about literary analysis ever since I've had to start doing it. I'm sure at least one of the authors we've had to dissect doesn't like the idea of his work being torn apart in the hunt for symbolism, theme, and universal truth. In a hundred years, will we be looking at film the same way, though contemporarily it's barely more than entertainment?
Come to think of it, most authors are probably thrilled to have so much attention paid to their work. Here are a few of my (forced) tributes.
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