Showing posts with label Postmodernism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Postmodernism. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The Trouble With Theory

Jameson says “interpretation is not an isolated act, but takes place within a Homeric battlefield, on which a host of interpretive options are either openly or implicitly in conflict” (1826). He is calling for a pluralistic theoretical approach; this is not unlike Gates’s claims that theorists must “learn to read a black text within a black formal cultural matrix, as well as its ‘white’ matrix. This is necessary because the existence of a black canon is a historically contingent phenomenon; it is not inherent in the nature of ‘blackness’ nor vouchsafed by the metaphysics of some racial essence” (2435). How would historical influences alter readings of black texts and black authors? Meanwhile, Adrienne Rich insists “feminist theory can no longer afford merely to voice a toleration of ‘lesbianism’ as an ‘alternative life style’ “ (1593). Rich’s essay is a call to arms for vocal and antagonistic feminist and lesbian theory. How is this different from Gates’s interest in crafting parallel canons, parallel interpretations? How is she different from Jameson’s open ended interpretations and claims that there are no wrong answers?

While the classical theorists seemed set on a single consideration, aesthetics or rather how aesthetics define and distinguish literature, the postmodern era is about dualities and pluralistic approaches. Contemporary to this is an interest in the alternative voices and an interest in minority literature—racial, gender, sexuality, non-western, non institutionally dominant culture. Postmodern theory too considers not canonical literature, but pop culture, pop art, mainstream, mass production, advertising, disposable media—it is an era that casts aside the classical hang ups with absolute definitions, aesthetic distinctions, and clear segregation between Literature and literature. It is an all inclusive, all accepting, welcome to the world attitude. In many ways this serves as an attack on the dominant culture—the institutional culture of the academy.

In Against Theory, Knapp and Benn attack the very idea of academic theoretical criticism:

“Some theorists have sought to ground the reading of literary texts in methods designed to guarantee the objectivity and validity of interpretations. Others, impressed by the inability of such procedures to produce agreement among interpreters, have translated that failure into an alternative mode of theory that denies the possibility of correct interpretation. Our aim here is not to choose between these two alternatives but rather to show that both rest on a single mistake that is central to the notion of theory per se. The object of our critique is not a particular way of doing theory but the idea of doing theory at all” (2492)

However, by making theory a subject of criticism, are they not simply furthering the theoretical approach, further expanding the hierarchies of literature, criticism, and theory? Are they not simply creating a new cultural matrix that includes theory?

Frankenstein can be read as a metaphor for Shelley’s ‘birthing’ a novel, that the act of creating a monster is in effect similar to writing a book. In reading the text as a metaphor for writing, Shelley is serving as a theorist constructing a critique of the mode of production of literature. She creates a monster after all, which should say something about literature. But if her literary creation results in this monster, is she suggesting a corruption of the process similar to Knapp and Benn’s insistence that the fault of theory is theory?

Monday, November 22, 2010

Victor, Victor Victor!!

"The development of techno-sciences has become a means of increasing disease, not fighting it."

I've always wondered why Victor chose to use his scientific knowledge to create a new being. After discovering how to animate a previously lifeless being, why didn't he wake up his mother? Why didn't he reinstate her life? Why didn't he realize that a relationship between a man and a woman is also a means of creating and animating a[n always new] life? Why did he take bits and pieces of different beings to create an entirely new one? Why didn't his conscious step in earlier? Why didn't he question himself and his motives? "Certainly I should have thought such a creature unfit to remain in the society of men!" is said by- of all people- Elizabeth in response to Justine Moritz (61). Why did Victor not recognize the same? Why did he increase the disease and not fight it?

Victor is a slave to himself and his ego. The proof is seen everywhere- after reading a letter sent to him from another, he never commiserates or empathizes. The man can't sympathize with anyone- especially the monster. After creating the monster, Victor runs away into nature... and his thoughts of the monster are that of fear and loathing. He takes no personal responsibility whatsoever: "When I thought of him, I gnashed my teeth, my eyes became inflamed, and I ardently wished to extinguish that life which I had so thoughtlessly bestowed. When I reflected on his crimes and malice, my hatred and revenge burst all bounds of moderation" (60). "I felt as if I had committed some great crime, the consciousness of which haunted me. I was guiltless, but I had indeed drawn down a horrible curse upon my head..." (112). What makes Victor feel "guiltless"? Yes, he admits often that he was the "true murderer," but he does not seem to believe it (57, 59, 61). Instead, he seems to say it for dramatic effect. What makes him think that he is truly guiltless? His unwavering ego.
When he and the monster are face to face, Victor asks, "why do you call to my remembrance circumstances off which I shudder to reflect, that I have been the miserable origin and author?" (67). The obvious answer is "because you're responsible for these circumstances," but it's ridiculous to respond at this point. Either way, it's all about him. Although he cannot five sympathy, he fully expects sympathy... Of the monster, "you have made me wretched...you have left me no power..." (67). Marsha, Marsha Marsha!!

An interesting moment of sanity occurs during Victor's imprisonment, during supposed bouts of "madness." He shouts, "I am the cause of this- I murdered her. William, Justine, Henry- they all died by my hands" (128). Why does it need to be "madness" in order for Victor to admit his guilt? Why is he absolved of it when sane? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Or maybe, in this situation, his ego is removed, leaving him able to admit- in all honesty- his guilt.

Mostly, I ask why Victor can't empathize with the monster. The easy answer would be that the monster is the "other," and Victor is acting as the more dominant party. It is his lack of empathy and sympathy that starts his entire journey- if he had though ahead to the consequences of his actions, things would have turned out differently. If he had been able to put himself in the monster's place, things would have turned out differently. It is obvious now that he could not, and I feel it is his ego to blame. In that way, I find that the development of the techno-sciences has become a means of increasing disease because of the human ego. Not enough empathy and sympathy- thinking outside of and beyond oneself. Shelley seems to be saying this, exploring with, "Victor couldn't do it and look what happened to him."

Victor, Victor, Victor.
V is not for Victory.