Wikipedia wrote:Close reading describes, in literary criticism, the careful, sustained interpretation of a brief passage of text. Such a reading places great emphasis on the particular over the general, paying close attention to individual words, syntax, and the order in which sentences and ideas unfold as they are read.
In Humanities I had to read stuff by Willa Cather and write essays where I say things I don't believe and/or I thought were stupid. I find the implication that individual words matter more than the text as a whole to be appalling—a spectacular example of missing the forest for the trees. Same with the whole "Death of the Author" malarkey, which says the author doesn't know anything about what he wrote. His opinions and intent don't matter. Again, that's ridiculous.
Apparently, Jacques Derrida—one of my least favorite philosophers—decided to spend 80 pages analyzing the word "yes" as used in James Joyce's Ulysses. Of course, Derrida always had a tendency to vomit nonsense, but close reading seems severely flawed to me.
(The particular instance of close reading that drove me to this post is the book Sherlock Holmes Was Wrong, in which author Pierre Bayard contends that in The Hound of the Baskervilles, Sherlock Holmes was, well, wrong. Oy.)
