Biran53 said:
I don't see why 'death of the author' and looking for 'authorial intent' need to work in opposition.
Both are very useful forms of critique. More open ended or abstract works of art benefit greatly from what an audience member personally projects into said piece. It's even possible for more straightforward stories to be enriched by interpretations of characters and potential symbols.
Aliens (1986) is as straightforward as action films come, but it contains themes of motherhood and the loss of a child (Ripley's primary adversary being an Alien Queen makes this seem very deliberate). Does this change how Aliens is, regardless, still one of the greatest sci-fi/action films ever directed? Not really. But it adds greater substance, and emotional attachment to Ripley's character. (This is a pretty obvious example, I know).
I agree. Another good example of this is Lord of the Flies. William Golding said many times that the symbolism people found in it was never his intent, but The Beast, the scene with the sow in the woods, and juxtaposing the boys' societal collapse as a microcosm of the myriad problems in modern politics, all of those add a layer of subtext to it that elevates above the author just telling a story about boys on an island.
That being said, I do believe that the "Word of God" can be an overruling factor in analysis. Once the intent of the artist is laid out officially, it becomes somewhat pointless to try and object to that as the audience.
And yes, it is possible for audience members to cook up strange or obtrusive interpretations that seemingly have nothing to do with the work in question, but it's probably best to deal with this on a case by case basis.
I agree in the sense that it's pointless to tell an author what he or she intended in their work, because even in the somewhat rare case of an author being dishonest (which is entirely possible), they're the only person who knows for sure. We also can't discount that an author may have subconsciously meant one thing, but decided to whitewash it later by convincing themselves they had another intention all along. Humans do this all the time, every day. Artists, Writers, Designers and creators in general are not exempt from this.
But I also think we're conflating "intention" with "meaning." This is understandable because of the way "mean" is sometimes used. We often use the word to describe our intentions. "I didn't mean to do that", "And by that I mean...", etc.
But "meaning" also has the alternate, uh... meaning of significance or definition. These are most commonly assigned or modified well after something has achieved its original intended purpose. We see this all the time in the realm of linguistics. For example, the word "fuck" originally came from an old germanic word (reconstructed as roughly analogous to "frichen") which originally meant to strike or to push. At some point, quite a few people decided it would make a handy euphemism for a different type of striking and pushing if-you-know-what-I-mean-nudge-nudge. Fast forward to the last few centuries and now the word's descendant ("fuck") is considered rude enough to need its own euphemisms.
(side note: This is also the case for other euphemisms that experienced a degradation in perceived politeness as their use became more common. Words such as "retarded", "handicapped", "imbecile", "insane", etc. were all used in a polite sense before the public at large made them rude once again.)
So, we can see that intention and meaning are not entirely synonymous. If we consider art, literature, etc. as the expanded fractal patterns of their core components (words, images, signs and symbols) then we are not "wrong" in interpreting a work beyond its author's intent inasmuch as we can derive a reasonable explanation for *why* it means that from its constituent parts.
Also, let us never forget, narrators are human. We are all unreliable and don't always give accurate explanations for our actions. Our intentions don't always coincide with what is *really* going on in our heads. Like any unreliable human, an author can always give the "final say" on their intentions, but never on what their work *means* for those with whom they have voluntarily shared it.