Philosophy of Theory, or Theory on Philosophy

Theory. I’ve never taken a class devoted solely to theory, and in the past I believe only two of my classes really discussed theory at all, and sporadically.

But here’s how I know I love theory already. Two things.

There is a book called Art & Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland. Both photographers, they decided to write a book for artists, artists in any medium. The book discusses what they have found to be true for them as working artists over the years: the anxieties attached to making art and how to overcome them, the ways artists work and grow, all types of things artists might encounter when they create. It was, essentially, their theory of art making.

The way I termed this book after reading it, before really understanding what the word “theory” meant, was a book on the philosophy of art. Looking in the dictionary, the two words appear to be synonymous. But while we tend to stick to using the word theory, philosophy, in my opinion, better represents the way I feel about it.

(And the extra nice thing is, it doesn't way ten tons like our theory anthology.)

This book made me realize something I probably already knew, but hadn’t yet stated for myself: I find this stuff fascinating. In retrospect, it was probably a major thing that brought me to love the study of literature in the first place. In high school, I started to love writing essays for the first time in my life, and it was solely because of my English classes. It was the first time I’d probably ever loved writing period, because suddenly we were allowed to explore texts in any way we wanted. We weren’t writing book reports, dry summaries. We were analyzing.

I found Art & Fear not only fascinating, but more importantly inspiring. Which leads me to my second great encounter with theory: last semester. I took a special topics creative writing class, Hybridity and Narrative with Prof. Haake. This class focused, alongside writing and literature, on theory. I immediately began to hear echoes of Art & Fear in our discussions of theory, and I felt myself drawn right back into that same state of wonder. I was surprised to find, although in retrospect I shouldn’t have been, that this class helped inspire me to write much more than creative writing classes in the past had – ones which hadn’t focused on theory at all.

And so I’ve discovered that, as both a writer and a reader, theory is overwhelmingly important to me. And trust me, I’m not just saying this because that’s what an English major is “supposed” to say. Looking back on my love of art, I see that it’s theory that makes me love it. I don’t read, watch movies and TV, even play RPG video games just to be entertained by them in the immediate way. I love and am entertained by them by looking at them critically, analyzing them backwards and forwards, and squeezing every last drop of meaning out of them.

That’s what theory is to me. The study of meaning.

I like to call it philosophy.