As expected, the "general" board is always the fastest. Man, is having an active anime textboard too much to ask?
What you need to do is start posting more. When I say that, I don't mean to spam this place, I actually mean you should write posts that contribute something. For the case of anime, you could start your very own blog thread about the anime you're watching where you post your expectations, spoilers and opinions about the anime.
>Are you ignoring DQN on purpose?
Well, I haven't checked it out because I don't know what it stands for
You make negative amounts of posts my friend. Cease immediately so we may recover.
Yes, that's literally too much to ask. Especially for a visual media topic like anime it would be strange for the 4-ch textboard to be active considering all the imageboards about it.
Concepts and examples of literary history can be found in the works of critics from Aristotle on. Yet the discipline of literary history, as it was practiced in the nineteenth century, could not narrate its own history without locating an origin. Hence, it was and is usually said that literary history began in antiquarian works of the eighteenth century. Assimilating ideas of Herder and the Schlegels, the discipline became intellectually profound. Its major modes have been Hegelian, naturalist, positivist, geistesgeschichtlich, Marxist, formalist, sociological and, paradoxically, postmodern. In variants, the theories of Darwin, Spengler, Wölfflin, Weber, Adorno, Foucault, Bloom, Geertz, and many others have been pressed into service. The genre includes works on the literature of nations, periods, traditions, schools, regions, social classes, political movements, ethnic groups, women, and gays, and these studies may foreground their effect on society or on the subsequent literature, their reception, or all these moments synthetically.
For approximately the first seventy-five years of the nineteenth century, literary history enjoyed popularity and unquestioned prestige. It was characterized, at this time, by three fundamental assumptions: that literary works are formed by their historical context; that change in literature takes place developmentally; and that this change is the unfolding of an idea, principle, or supraspersonal entity. Viewing literary works in relation to their historical context, we can, it was argued, achieve a juster interpretation and a more complete appreciation than is otherwise possible. We can explain features of texts as products and expressions of the social structures, ways of life, beliefs, literary institutions, and so on, of the communities in which they were created. As a synthesis of history and criticism, literary history seemed more powerful, for some purposes, than either discipline separately.
The premise of a developmental history is that an event goes "through a series of changes" as Dilthey puts it, "of which each is possible only on the basis of the previous one." Transitions of this kind has continuity. The next phase preserves much of the former. There are no jumps, reversals, returns, clean slates, or beginnings. Developmental history explains a work by what it immediately evolves from. The contexts in which it places a work exist simultaneously with or just prior to the work. The view of developmental history is limited in this respect, since literary works may be directly modeled on ones produced centuries earlier in alien societies.
All of the most important literary histories in the nineteenth century were narratives, and they traced the phases or sometimes the birth and/or death of a suprapersonal entity. This entity might be a genre, such as poetry; the "spirit" of an age, such as classicism or romanticism; or the character or "mind" of a race, region, people, or nation as reflected in its literature. Despite their large differences on other points, all schools of literary history shared this way of conceiving their subject. It was common to the comparative literary history of Friedrich an August Wilhelm Schlegel, to literary histories influenced by Hegel an by his supplementer and critic in the philosophy of history, Wilhelm Dilthey, to the naturalistic approach of Taine, and to the great, popular histories, such as those of Scherer, Brandes, and De Sanctis. What is still the most widely read of all literary histories, Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy, was, for its time, idiosyncratic in its uses of speculative psychology, but it sought to disclose the mind of the ancient Greeks. The alternative would be a literary history that attributed less unity to its subject. Extreme examples are the "postmodern" Columbia Literary History of the United States (1987) and the New History of French Literature (1989), both of which are a collection of separate essays and deliberately avoid consecutiveness and coherence.
These supapersonal entities were analogous, in some ways, to what Dilthey, with references to historiography in general, calls "ideal unities" or "logical subjects," such as nations, religions, and classes. These exist through individuals but extend beyond them and, "by the content, value, purpose that realizes itself in them, possess an independent existence and their own development. Thus they are subjects of an ideal sort. A certain knowledge of reality is in them; purposes are realized in them; in the interconnected realm of the spiritual world they have a significance and assert it". Historians predicated concerning them as though they were individuals, asserting that they rose, battled, flourished, exerted influence, and so forth, and Paul Ricoeur justifies this practice, though with qualifications, by comparing such logical subjects to characters in a novel: "The role of character can be held by whomever or whatever is designated in the narrative as the grammatical subject of an actions predicate in the basic narrative sentence 'X does R.' "
Most literary historians now conceive such terms as Restoration drama, gothic novel, and Imagist movement as generalizations or as designations of types, rather than as names of principles, ideas, or ideal beings, but such terms are still essential to the discipline. They express a "synthesis of works" by different writers, in Roland Barthes's phrase, and, unless one perceives such syntheses, one cannot write literary history. The assumption that various genres, periods, schools, traditions, discourses, and epistemes are not baseless and arbitrary groupings, that such classifications can have objective and valid grounds in the literature of the past, is still the fundamental assumption of the discipline, the premise that empowers it. Whether literary histories are justified in this assumption, whether either their particular classifications of literary works or processes by which they classify can be adequately defended, are questions to which I return in chapter 4.