The problem with "theory" in the recent academic past is that it has tended to swallow all things into itself. When literature becomes mere grist for the theoretical mill, all sense of quality is lost, a comic book is as good as Shakespeare. Grist for the mill. The good news about "theory is dead" would therefore be: literature is no longer grist for the mill. It has an intrinsic value again.
Obviously, this does not deny the value of theory. It denies the imperial aspirations of theory. Theory is great, but when it starts to take itself too seriously, when it starts to think it's more important than the thing it's theorizing about, it has outgrown its usefulness.
Epigone: Frye, Auerbach, & Abrams (I haven't read Booth) are, above all, extraordinary appreciators of literature. Their theory is rooted in their appreciation. Postmodernist theory seems to untether itself from appreciation -- an intellectual adventure which, initially, informed by the remarkable intelligence of its initiators, is interesting & maybe even revealing, but which rapidly degenerates into a formula for outrageous pretentiousness. A blind alley.
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