Where do we go from here?

This semester of Critical Theory and the Academy has taught me one of the most important lessons I have learned in my entire study of English thus far. By having a chance to discover and explore a multiplicity of theories, I have now had the chance to recognize that I truly appreciate the one theory that started it all—Liberal Humanism. I would refrain from calling Liberal Humanism a theory, per se, but rather categorize it as the key component to interpreting literature, poetry, and other forms of aesthetic expression. It enables an individual to truly value a text without critical theory infringing on it or demeaning it in any way. Theory tends to do just the opposite of Liberal Humanism by acting as an intrusive influence against the context, and ultimately overpowering the reader’s viewpoint. A Marxist critic will perpetually think of the levels of class society and the unjust power of the hegemonic state in whichever text they come in contact with. Others, like Feminists, will think of the oppression of women and how or if they will conquer the phallocentric society in which they live. Post-structuralists, as always, are determined to dissect the center of the text and look beneath the surface to investigate what the “true” latent meaning is. All of these theorists, no matter what their school or their methodology, are practicing eisegesis—reading into texts. This can help us ask a lot of questions, but, in the end, does not enable us to understand or appreciate the essence of a work. The Association of Literary Scholars and Critics were founded by senior scholars Roger Shattuck, Robert Alter, and Christopher Ricks. My friend Richie who has personally studied with Christopher Ricks has introduced to the mission of ALSC: The Association of Literary Scholars and Critics promotes excellence in literary criticism and scholarship, and works to ensure that literature thrives in both scholarly and creative environments. We encourage the reading and writing of literature, criticism, and scholarship, as well as wide-ranging discussions among those committed to the reading and study of literary works.
I feel like there will be a counter-movement back to Liberal Humanism that insists on the word in literature and invites all students, not just those with a sophisticated critical vocabulary to a dialogue with authors that have contributed to our worldviews for centuries. A new New Criticism has the potential to breathe new life into a field that has, in many ways, alienated itself from many readers of literature.

Wrong Track

I must first thank Dr. Krouse for an interesting post on Feminism and Post-Feminism. After having read the post, I remembered a particular incident that happened this summer. My friend Jennie, an undergrad studying at Barnard College in NYC, and I were going home on the train from Boston back to the ‘berbs. We came across a young woman of her twenties who was clearly inebriated. She wore a mask of make-up, white patent-leather four-inch heels, form-fitting clothing, and to top it all off, big, hair-sprayed hair resembling a Texas beauty pageant queen. We were stunned. Suddenly, she sits on the side of the tracks and, nervously, Jennie and I go to her and tell her not to sit there. Explaining to us in utter incoherence, she says that she missed her train. We were going on the last mid-night train so there were no more trains until the following morning. With pity, Jennie and I tell the conductor of her situation and hope that he will take it from there. No. The conductor leaves it up to us and tells us to “figure it out.” At this point, we are upset—especially with the incompetence of the male conductor—and decide to bring her on the train with us. We soon learn that this is a big mistake. “So, are you going to vote in the year’s election,” Jennie asks girl. With a laugh, the girl responds, “Oh no. I will not be doing such a thing… I’d have my husband handle that one, that’s for sure. Hahaha!” Jennie grimaces. I cringe. Somehow we get into a discussion about shoes. “I think all women should wear heels. It’s very important for a woman to look like a woman.” Jennie and I both stare at our worn moccasins, cut-off shorts and over-sized t-shirts, “Is this a figment of our imaginations or is the really happening,” says Jennie. I respond, “This is real; haha, I guess we’re not women.” Jennie sardonically agrees with my statement. Luckily, the girl gets in touch with her boyfriend and she gets off at the next stop. Phew!

This little train adventure certainly has a big message to convey. It can be compared to the notion of “masculinist discourse” that Krouse discusses. She poses the question, “how are women gendered in our culture?” Well, for one thing, women are gendered and conditioned to believe that, in order to be feminine, a woman must wear clothing just like the girl we met on the train. Take for instance the high heeled shoe. It looks nice; however, it is not so easy to walk in. This shoe is designed by a man for the purpose of aesthetic value as opposed to practicality or comfort. Personally, I would much rather feel the ground on which I walk than hobble above it. Looking at literary texts, women are not part of the infamous Western canon. Virginia Woolf suggests that a female writer must have a room and an income of her own to efficiently create a work of literature. I think my anecdote of the train, though not a literary work by any means, can still pose powerful questions about the way we gender ourselves in contemporary American society. Does the girl on the train constructing herself through the oppressive sightline of the male gaze? Will the girl I met on the midnight train return home to a room of her own or a lifetime of domination masculine?

Response to Lacan Lecture

Firstly, I would like to thank Ashley for a very interesting lecture on Lacan and his theories. I especially like the visual display of signifier and signified (as first done by Saussure) with Lacan’s revision—signifier and signifier. Lacan depicts language as being a metonymy, a word-to-word connectivity that, in time, produces meaning. Through this word-to-word connectivity, we are in search of a meaning, a destination; however, this destination will never be reached. One will undergo this perpetual searching for meaning, only to reach another signifier. And so the cycle goes on. Lacan reaches the conclusion that there is no signified, but simply signifiers—words. He claims that each and every one of us is constituted through these words, as if we are made up of a myriad of codes (like The Matrix). This structure is known as “The Symbolic.” There is neither an exit from nor an entry to from the symbolic. If this symbolic structure were eliminated, humans would be unable to exist. In Mantissa, for example, Miles Green is at first unaware of his symbolic structure. He first comes to the realization that he is human and, in fact, a man when he sees the face of a woman peering down at him as he lay on the bed. This moment in the text is quite similar to Lacan’s view of the symbolic. We learn that Miles Green possesses the traits of a man, the senses of a man, and the body of a man at a split second, thus relating to Lacan’s notion of “the symbolic.”
Moving on in the lecture, Ashley goes on to describe Lacan’s idea that language and desire are one and the same—synonymous. “If you are talking about language, you are also talking about the activity of desire. And if you are talking about desire, you are always already talking about the linguistic structure of metonymy, which is the structure of language as such.” One may come to reach the object of his or her desire and find out that that endpoint is not what he or she had in mind. The object was not what was initially thought it to been, now he or she must move on to the next, again reciprocating in the metonymic moving towards desire. This continuous movement towards the so-called object of desire is, again, the filling of a void—a void that can never actually be filled. Lacan says that no person has a fixed, stable identity. It is constantly changing. He goes on to discuss the idea of the Mirror Stage, the stage where the infant first discovers his/her image in the reflection of the mirror. At this moment, the infant figures out his/her identity and realizes that he/she is whole. Lacan continues by saying that identity is made up of three key parts: identity is fictional, identity can never really be reached, and identity creates anxiety. Despite the incredible joy, jouissance, the infant receives when first discovering his/her identity, anxiety permeates throughout the infant’s being. The infant comes to understand that his/her identity is merely an illusion. This mirror stage idea could also be related to Mantissa. In the scene where Dr. Delfie shows Miles his own reflection in the mirror, it is as if he experiences the jouissance that the infant experiences when discovering the illusory identity. A wonderful Lacanian moment in the text, I must say.
Thank you once again for your insights and for deepening and complicating our understanding of Lacan.

Metamorphoses of Erato

The beginning of Matissa by John Fowles is highly provocative and exhibits evidence of several concepts and theories. Several times in the text, Fowles uses both the notion of the death of the author and the notion of post-structuralism as well as psychoanalytical theory. Miles Green is a patient in an unfamiliar institution, or asylum, or hospital where the reader is uncertain as to where Greene actually is. This, in a way, is the idea of decentred universe, since Green does not know where he is; he is deconstructed from his reality, what he is familiar with. All we know from the text is that the patient is undergoing a series of treatment by Dr. A. Delfie, whom asks Green several routine questions and sees if he is able to answer them. A question Green asks is how long he has been where he is, Dr. Delfie answers “just a few pages.” Green questions the use of ‘pages’ and corrects her by saying ‘days.’ Dr. Delfie states that “You’ve mislaid your identity, Mr. Green. What I have to work on is your basic sense of reality. And that seems in good shape.”(14). Judging from this dialogue, it is as if Fowles is using post-structuralism conception. If I am, in fact, interpreting this passage correctly, the word ‘pages’ is put in place of ‘days,’ ‘days’ conceivably being the center of the two characters’ discourse. It is evident that the word ‘days’ should have been used in the sentence as opposed to ‘pages.’ In addition to this, another linguistic dialogue between Dr. Delfie and Green develops during the sexual treatment session. Instructing him to be “a little more erotic,” Green replies “I can’t. I don’t know you from Adam.” (Green should have said Eve.) Dr. Delfie says “Mr. Green, the person I want you not to know me from is Eve. Or are you trying to tell me you’d rather have this treatment from a male nurse and doctor?”(19). This raises a question of his sexuality—of course one could interpret this slip of the tongue as a Freudian slip, psychoanalytically speaking—whether he has a repressed homosexual desire. In a post-structuralist view, this, again, is a linguistic idiosyncrasy.
The character of Dr. Delfie is, in itself, deconstructed as we read part two of the text. At this point in the story, it is unclear whether the reader should refer to the character of Dr. Delfie as Dr. Delfie or Erato—since they are theoretically the same character but portrayed in two different contexts—however, it is interesting that Fowles purposely provokes this sentiment within the reader. Another means of deconstruction by deconstructing Erato’s character. She undergoes a metamorphosis, transforming into a punk rocker, who is a kind of representation of the anti-misogynist female in a most extreme form: a punk in the sense of dark make-up and garment, a heavy-metal musician carrying an electric guitar, and a shaved, bleached head. Then she metamorphoses into Erato, the goddess of lyrical, ardent poetry, crowned with a wreath of Ophelia roses, in a light, long tunic, and carries a lyre across her body. Green considers it a far more feminine appearance, whereas Erato considers her appearance to be a simpler way to exploit her. Alright, I will try not venture into Feminist criticism land (not just yet, anyway.) In their discourse, Erato expresses her opinion of the novel. “Death of the novel, that’s a laugh. I wish to all my famous relations it was. And good riddance…It’s what I loathe about this rotten country. And America, that’s the worse. At least the French are doing their best to kill the whole stupid thing off for good.”(66). Comical yet intriguing are Erato’s words of deconstruction and the idea of the death of the author, or in her discourse, ‘death of the novel.’ Surely she is referring the work of Jacques Derrida, Roland Barthes, among the several post-structuralists/deconstructionists. That’s it for now.
I hope this close-reading is, at least, a bit understandable and valid.

Simulacra & Simulation

Particularly, I thought the section discussed on Simulacra and Simulation quite intriguing. Baudrillard looks at the idea of simulation in a deeper level. Simulacrum, first termed by Plato himself, essentially is defined as a duplicate without having had an original form in the first place. I especially like how Ken relates simulacrum with that of the ET ride at Universal Studios or Epcot in Disney World. Both of these attractions appear to be simulations, but, in reality, they are merely false depictions of reality. These simulations of reality blur the authentic version of reality, thus, creating the hyperreal. If one reaches the point of discovering the real, the real will perpetually be a result of the simulation. In The Matrix, Neo chooses to find out the truth of what reality really is. To his dismay, he discovers that it is a computer-generated world where humanity in a dream world. Yet, another example of simulacra.
Going beyond the hyperreal, Baudrillard grapples with the notion of “integral reality.” Money, for instance, can be used in credit form. Purposely putting off payment of a certain item is made possible by the process of purchasing an item, swiping a piece of plastic between another plastic mechanism, and never actually having a chance to view the money. This is a false reality of consumption—going back to Baudrillard’s theory that consumption makes the capitalist world go round.

Author - text = Reader

An author is commonly referred to as the main focal point of a particular text. If a person were asked the question what is an author, they would presumably reply with the description of one who is autonomous, one who is the center of attention, a transmitter of cultural values or ideas who constructs these value in a literal way, etcetera. An author takes a reality and regurgitates it onto a page, so to speak. This would be considered a more liberal humanist approach to this question. Foucault, however, asks for a different answer to whom an author really is. In his essay “What is an Author?” Foucault questions who an author is by taking a given and deconstructing the center ultimately creating a problem. Elaborating on the idea given to us by Roland Barthes in “Death of an Author” that the death of the author brings about the birth of the reader, Foucault asks what the author did in the first place to initiate his/her demise.
Throughout history, Foucault explains that the author was not always autonomous and central within a text. He discusses “author-function,” where an author is “a function of discourse.” In ancient times, Foucault states that “(stories, folk tales, epics, and tragedies) were accepted, circulated, and valorized without any question about the identity of their authenticity.”(1264Foucault). Later on around the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the opposite idea was taken within literary discourse. A text of fiction, poetry, drama, and others were required to label with the name author and the date and place in which a text was produced. In order for a text to be valued and accredited, authorship information had to be presented. In the realm of mathematics and science, for example, it was not necessary to label mathematical/scientific discoveries with an author during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In fact, these texts were “accepted on their own merits ad positioned within an anonymous and coherent conceptual system of established truths and methods of verification,” (1264Foucault). Only a theorem, an equation, a law, etcetera were labeled to acknowledge the inventor. Conversely in the Middle Ages, the name of the author was thought to have been the source of truthfulness with the indication of an author.
I would like, if I may, to take a bold leap into the depths of the Panopticon theory of Foucault. Panoptic essentially means “all-seeing.” Foucault discusses the idea of the panoptical prison where the guards centered in the middle of the room and the prisoners surrounding them in a circular formation. One could argue that it is quite similar to the idea of authorship. The author could very well be located within the center, like that of the guards. The author is in a space where he or she has the ability to see all of the prisoners from the middle. The prisoners very well may be the readers looking towards the center at the author (or guard). If these prisoners overthrow the guards, engage in a sort of revolt against the center, they then will be liberated. The same goes for authorship. If the author is removed from the center, then the readers will have the freedom to interpret a text, without any influence or control over their views. With the multiplicity of readers, the multiplicity of texts will come to light. The readers come “I” instead the author. Perhaps this is the message Foucault is trying to proclaim in his essay.
While reading Foucault Blog, (http://foucaultblog.wordpress.com/2007/08/07/facebook-is-the-new-panopticon/) Jeremy argues that Facebook is the new panopticon of the millennia. Zuckerman, creator of this online friendship networking site, says that he created it to promote pleasure for the common good. Foucault, in the 1970s, said that the panopitcon is ‘to induce in the inmate a state of conscious and permanent visibility that assures the automatic functioning of power.’ The prison mate ‘is seen, but he does not see; he is the object of information, never a subject in communication.’ Jeremy goes on to say that members of Facebook are both guards and prisoners: guards in which they have access to the viewing of peoples’ profiles and prisoners for imprisoning themselves into Facebook, a possible metaphor for a prison cell. Jeremy says, “We relinquish ourselves to others, but have the luxury of indulging in everyone else’s surrender of secrecy.” Whether this is the case or not, it is an interesting concept and certainly relates to the idea of the author and the reader.

"I Think Where I am Not"

In the Derrida film, Derrida says “And there where there is improvisation I am not able to see myself.” He relates this idea of improvisation to pure forgiveness and reconciliation. He states that to achieve pure forgiveness is impossible. One would reach this level of forgiveness by being able to forgive what may seem to be the unforgivable. Reconciliation is not to forgive, per se, but to do so for a purpose of diplomacy, of therapeutic means, and so on and so forth. Improvisation is to “reproduce stereotypical discourse.” The notion of improvisation is almost like a mask being worn by a person, concealing one’s true self. He goes on to say that improvisation inhibits a person from being able to fully visualize the self.
Lacan reverses Descartes recognized philosophy “I think therefore I am,” by saying “I think where I am not, therefore I am where I do not think.” Descartes’ view is that the self is the conscious mind which is the very center of selfhood. Lacan states the opposite. He says that the center of selfhood is the unconscious mind. This is where the true self dwells. Very much like Derrida’s concept of the self and the Other, Lacan poses the question ‘who is this other to whom I am more attached than myself, since at the heart of my assent to my own identity it is still he who wags me?(113Barry). As Derrida uses deconstruction to interpret a particular subject matter, Lacan deconstructs the self to reveal it as a linguistic result and not a fundamental being. He relates the unconscious to language. Like Derrida’s concepts, Lacan interprets language to live as a structure even prior to the admission of the person.