She wrote not from the elevated perch of the New Yorker critic, but from the seat next to yours. Her reviews are almost always written in first person plural, with frequent references to “us” and “we,” in lines like “we suck in our breath; we do not dare to laugh” and the aforementioned “Our experience as we watch it has some connection with the way we reacted to movies in childhood.” She addressed us as she saw us, as fellow moviegoers, compatriots in the dark, presumably looking for the same things she was: craftsmanship, humanity, truth, or (failing all that, or perhaps in addition to it) a good time. Her reviews always seem to operate under the assumption that her readership is at least as smart as she is. We usually weren’t, but if you read enough of her work, you might get closer.
Finally, Frye proposes an anagogic phase wherein a symbol is treated as a monad. The anagogic level of medieval allegory treated a text as expressing the highest spiritual meaning. For example, Dante's Beatrice in the Divine Comedy would represent the bride of Christ. Frye makes the argument that not only is there a lateral connection of archetypes through intertextuality, but that there is a transcendent almost spiritual unity within the body of literature. Frye describes the anagogic in literature as "the imitation of infinite social action and infinite human thought, the mind of a man who is all men, the universal creative word which is all words."