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?

Yearning is the word.

"Yearning is the word," says bell hooks in "Postmodern Blackness." "Specifically, in relation to the post-modernist deconstruction of "master" narratives, the yearning that wells in the hearts and minds of those whom such narratives have silenced is the longing for critical voice" (2513). There is no question that hooks is right; those who have been silenced yearn for a critical voice. Does that not cut to the core of the monster as we know him to be? The creature in Frankenstein wants a father, a creator, to belong. Does not a father and creator act as a critical voice? Is that not the most important critical voice in development from immaturity? Society- no, life- is nothing but rules of what can/cannot, should/should not be done. The patriarchical role is that of laying down rules. As the monster is rejected by his creator/father, his only parenting is done through societal experience. The monster is literally raised by the society with which he surrounds himself.
This 'longing for a critical voice' may be a reaction to postmodernism in "that many groups now share with black folks a sense of deep alienation, despair, uncertainty, loss of a sense of grounding even if it is not informed by shared circumstance" (2513). Working under the basic assumption that the monster is an "other," albeit lacking the racial ties to 'black' or white,' he most definitely shares this sense of alienation and uncertainty, a "loss of a sense of grounding" (2513). Maybe the feelings bell hooks touches on are reactionary to more than merely "postmodernism." Yes, postmodernism critiques identity, but I don't think it threatens or closes down the discourse and practice of those who suffer (2513). Being suspicious of postmodern techniques arriving at the same time that many "subjugated people feel themselves coming to voice" is a little paranoid, at least to me. I find the reading to be incredible, but working under the chip-on-the-shoulder attitude that gets in the way of her analysis, more often than not- more often than in any other reading I can immediately recall.

Fighting Against the Death of the Subject

Jameson writes in Postmodernism and Consumer Society that "there is another sense in which the writers and artists of the present day will no longer be able to invent new styles and worlds--they've already been invented" (1851). To apply this postmodern text to Shelley's Frankenstein, one cannot help but notice that two of the novel's prominent characters have forged a rather "pastiche" existence: Walton, the ship captain who is searching for a passage through the arctic some 200 years after earlier explorers found that no such passage exists, and Victor, who is pursuing the "elixir of life" long after science deemed it to be nothing more than myth.

I don't wish to argue however that these characters have conceded the death of the subject, and are thus undertaking there own pastiche projects just as Jameson writes Roman Polanski turned to the past to create Chinatown. Instead, I believe Walton and Victor are natural 'partners' because of their shared belief in the subject: they are unwilling to abandon their faith in the "unique individual."

Walton and Victor share the same "lack of keeping" that drives them deeper into their endeavors with an undeniable passion. It is a distinctly pre-corporate "ardour" that these two men suffer from; an ailment, perhaps, not suited for the world of "bureaucracies" that Jameson speaks of. Their quest to save the subject drives them literally, as we've said in several different weeks now, to the margins of humanity.

This thought project has left me with several questions:
1) By picking up texts from the past--In Walton's case, old books of voyages, and Victor's antiquated alchemy books--are the characters pursuing pastiche projects that actually confirm the death of the subject? In other words, they seek novel innovations, a passage through the arctic and the secret to human animation, but by picking up an abandoned past are they really doing anything 'new' to validate the subject? (Seems like a question Greenblatt would enjoy)

2) Are these characters reacting to a world that fell out of love with the subject long before Jameson proclaimed its death? This week's readings have made our relation to the author and his or her intent more ambivalent than in previous weeks when it was completely forbidden, so I'll ask another question: did Mary Shelley foresee the death of the subject in the increasingly corporate environment of industrial age? If so, what do the pursuits of Walton and Victor ultimately say about the subject?

The Female Writer as Representation of the Other

Bell Hooks, in her work entitled “Postmodern Blackness” discusses the notion that there is a failure to recognize the presence of the black female writer in the realm of postmodernism. She questions that if in a world that is discussing the topic of “othering” the black woman is still not included, then where will there ever be a space for her writing? This notion proves interesting to me in that, for my final paper, I am focusing on the representation of the other in society, something which is also on Hooks’ mind. Similarly, Mary Shelley experiences the female “othering” in the realm of writing, in that her work was originally published under her husband’s name. Thus, this lack of inclusion of females in the literary world depicts the struggle between the male dominant class and the female “other” that is attempting to assimilate into it. As with various instances in the discussion of the factions in society, the group that is othered must exist on the outskirts of society, slowly trying to permeate into the accepted faction. This is often not something that is easily achieved, being that the presence of the other forces into question the foundation upon which the dominant class was built. However, in the case of female writers, it is obvious that they were able to achieve inclusion, and through doing so, prove that their work and ideas were, and are just as valid as those of their male peers.

Tampering with the evidence

"I am fascinated by the signs of alteration, tampering, even destructiveness which many museums try to simply efface" (Greenblatt, 2159).

"How were they originally used? What cultural and material conditions made possible their production? What were the feelings of those who originally held these objects, cherished them, collected them, and possessed them? What is the meaning of my relationship to these same objects now that they are displayed to me here, in this museum, on this day?" (Greenblatt, 2161).

I find Greenblatt's sentiments compelling, and wonder if we can apply them Shelley. How has the text of Frankenstein itself been tampered with by Percy, the publishers, and Mary by herself (during the novel's original drafting and of course it's reissue in 1831). Also, how has our culture's treatment of the story of Frankenstein since the time of its publishing affected its overall meaning?

That's all for now. I connected our readings regarding postmodernism to Frankenstein in my seminar paper, which I will post on blackboard shortly.

Dan

Monday, November 29, 2010

New-Historicism Seminar Paper

Hello!

I've posted this week's paper on Blackboard as a .pdf.

See you all on Wednesday.

ezt

Monday, November 22, 2010

Hybridity

Anzuldua states that “all identities are hybrid, formed over time through the interaction of multiple cultures.” Thus, calling for a united and isolated culture can “only do harm” in a world of hybridity (2096). It seems to me that Anzuldua is in favor of a “hybrid progeny, a mutable, more malleable species with a rich gene pool” (2099). Although I agree with Anzuldua in her attempt to emasculate the hegemony of race, I cannot help but think of all the people who would think that a hybrid, mixed race is monstrous and hideous. This brings to mind Frankenstein’s Creature who is an embodiment of a hybrid race, as he is made from the concoction of deceased bodies. Being a mix of many people, the Creature is deemed hideous and terrifying, and by being rejected by the white hegemonic society, seeks to harm the world of his maker. The fact that the Creature carries many gene pools in his body makes him strong and powerful, able to endure physical hardships. The discrepancy in Frankenstein’s attitude toward the Creature before the latter is alive and after; by first seeing as beautiful and then considering him hideous; and overall his contradictory feelings about the Creature, echoes what Anzaldua says about the reaction hybridity evokes : “the ambivalence from the clash of voices results in insecurity and indecisiveness” (2099). The Creature like the “mestiza” “[has] no country as [his] homeland cast [him] out; yet all countries are [his]” (2101). Similar to the struggle within the different Latino races and between the Latino’s and the Whites in which “the struggles has always been inner, and is played in the outer terrain” (2106), there is a struggle both within Frankenstein and the Creature as well as between themselves. It seems that the lack of awareness towards the Creature is the source of most his troubles; almost everyone he encounters misunderstands him because they are repulsed by his looks which they judge to be evil. Anzuldua believes that awareness must come before inner changes: “nothing changes in the real world unless it happens first in the images of our heads” (2106).