After completing the article about Genre by Writing Commons, I was left with the feeling that I should disregard what I read after the author said it could hinder you if you already typically have strong inner voice throughout your compositions, and that concerning yourself too much with how others have approached similar tasks historically could lead to writer’s block. Even though I believe that asking questions about genre before composing something would more than likely lead me to overthink the task, I can still comprehend how genre theory and its place within discourse communities is valuable and can help you to write and communicate more effectively.
As I’ve read the recommended material about the meaning and importance of genre, I’ve tried to bring my focus back to how these ideas relate back to my personal interests and desired career field. Within the context of the media design work that I hope to be doing in my professional career, it seems as if genre considerations would be most applicable to the research and planning stages of a design process. Good design attempts to strike a balance between following genre conventions so as to be easily recognizable while also being surprising in some way, perhaps by subverting expectations. Like Picasso said, you must “Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.” At the same time, while we may want to make designs that seem original and innovative, there is no need to reinvent the wheel. A lot of the research stage of the design process involves finding solutions that have been proven effective in the past so that we can implement a similar approach to a similar situation. The Dirk article makes note of this evidence of the utility of genre theory when it quotes Amy Devitt stating, “once we recognize a recurring situation, a situation that we or others have responded to in the past, our response to that situation can be guided by past responses,” (Dirk, 252). All that to say that many of the constraints I will put in place to guide my design decisions will be informed by what has been done traditionally and by better understanding genre conventions in the design field.
A great example of genres in media design is aspect ratios/page dimensions. While you could break these rules, there really isn’t a need to and it probably does more service to your design to adhere these formatting standards. For example, if I’m designing an invitation (like the Writing Commons article mentioned figuratively!), it’s probably going to be mailed off to the recipients. This is likely the motivation behind the standard that an invitation be about 4×6” (although there are a couple other sizes that become acceptable) because the product needs to easily fit into an appropriately sized envelope and be processed by the postal service. Thus I understand that, even in the field of media design, typifying communicative tasks into genres is something that shapes how discourse communities evolve and how practitioners relate to their work and their audiences .
I also think it is interest to evaluate the role of typography and text layout in genre theory, as these elements are sometimes used to heighten the meaning of messages. What stands out most to me are instances in which text and designs departure from genre conventions regarding typography. In doing some research, I found an article that addresses this cross-section in much more depth than I’m capable of doing.
This article, called “Disturbing the Text: Typographic devices in literary fiction” by Zoe Sadokierski, investigates the role of typography and other “paratextual” elements in the meaning of literary works. In particular, she achieves this by exemplifying the impact of novels that blur the boundary between paratext and primary text. In the article’s introduction, it is explained that primary text refers to the actual literary content composed by the author and that paratext includes elements that serve to present the material and “bring it to the threshold of interpretation,” (Genette, as quoted by Sadokierski). In other words, paratext are the decisions made by the publisher and process implemented to package the material into a final product accessible to the reader. This involves decisions such as what to title the work, which direction to take the cover design to best convey the work’s content, what kind of paper to print it on, etc. But what came to my mind when considering genre theory’s application to the field of publishing design and graphic design is exactly what this article emphasizes, and that is typographical elements. The novels that Sadokierski analyzes are ones that managed to position typographical devices so that they are essential to the narrative, so that they themselves take on the role of a “storytelling device” rather that a framing/presentation device (Sadokierski). Sadokierski discusses a novel called House of Leaves which accomplishes this subvertive melding of paratext and primary text. I thought it was interesting that the author of this novel, Mark Z. Danielewski, responded to feedback from readers who were surprised to find the narrative was more like a love story than the horror story it had been branded as, to which he said “in some ways, genre is a marketing tool”.
It’s clear that there are typographical conventions involved in the definition of many different genres. Almost every large paper that I’ve submitted during my formal education has been formatted to fit the genre convention of 12pt Times New Roman font. And I’d argue that this is an important consideration in our understanding of genre theory because choosing whether or not to follow typographical expectations does have an impact on how the reader interprets the meaning of the work. Graphic designers know that style and tone are conveyed through typography, although not all viewers will be conscious of this effect.
Lastly, I want to leave you with a question. What role does technology play in the creation and evolution of a genre? All this talk about typography led me to consider a historical perspective. How did technologies like the printing press, typewriters, and now digital text editing applications alter the relationship that writers have with their respective genres. It seems obvious that these technologies changed the way a composer approaches a writing task, which Dirk addresses as a significant component for a genre when she quotes Carolyn Miller: “a rhetorically sound definition of genre must be centered . . . on the action it is used to accomplish,” (Dirk, 252).
For example, today, while writing, we may chose the degree of formality that would best serve the communication purpose. We would then implement this decision in our choice of language. However, I can imagine that, in the time of handwritten artifacts and calligraphic practices, before easy access to printing technology, you could convey a sense of formality through your penmanship choices as well.
This material was very intimidating but it really sparked my curiosity, especially considering that it’s application to my interest in visual media is not readily apparent. Thanks for reading!
Sources:
Dirk, Kerry. “Navigating Genres.” Writing Spaces: Readings on Writing, vol 1. Writing Spaces. 2010. Edited by Charles Lowe and Pavel Zemliansky.
Moxley, Joseph M. “Genre.” Writing Commons, https://writingcommons.org/section/genre/.
Sadokierski, Zoë. “Disturbing the Text: Typographic Devices in Literary Fiction.” Zoë Sadokierski, 26 Feb. 2018, https://zoesadokierski.com/disturbing-the-text-typographic-devices-in-literary-fiction.