Friday, February 27, 2009
Intertectuality
Intertextuality seems to an interesting topic for me. When talking about text, I will be expanding it to the greater level which would include anything that has a meaning. Examining how I have treated text (or any other media), I found myself buying into this concept. As Barthes asserts, a particular text is not isolatable from the chain of texts that came before. In my point of view, the chain of texts existed before the current one take a vital part in bringing a specific and unique meaning to the present text. However, I do not think that this concept does not have to be limited to “chronology”. While chronological relations of texts can be described “vertical “, the relationship of a particular text with other texts present at the same time frame can be referred “horizontal”. In the horizontal relationship, one would have a meaning partly because its relationship (opposition, reaction, interaction…) with other existence around it. Writing his blog has evoked me a question: then would there be anything that can be read without any regard to other existence or have a meaning by itself? is it always that one is granted a specific meaning? Can't there be one that can give meaning to itself?
In response to Barthes
Barthes spends the majority of his essay about textuality highlighting the binary oppositions that differentiate work from text. While this is undoubtedly a valuable distinction to create, I feel that he does not address the issues of direct physicality involved with both work and text. In what ways does the boundary between work and text dissolve, and to what degree, and under which circumstances? There are multitudinous situational schemata that could be instantiated to produce an empirical rhetoric of textuality, which may be more personally involved than Barthes binary oppositions.
In Tuesday’s lecture, Professor Doane explained Derrida’s idea that proper nouns can never do what it purports to do. I thought this concept was very intriguing, yet difficult for me to fully grasp. There is a desire expressed in a proper name, according to the inherent meaning the name possesses. A proper name aims to classify an individual as a unique being, but put in a system of differences, it loses that uniqueness it first aimed to convey. Does this mean a proper name cannot fulfill its purpose because it can never fully define the individual, although its purpose is to classify and differentiate one individual from another. Am I getting this at all? I wish to further comprehend this idea on proper names.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The new criticism paid attention to the way form shaped meaning yet I am unsure what "form" constitued. According to Prof. Doane, Barthes opposed the new criticism because of the fact that he believed there existed a difference between text and work. I assume then that the new criticism's idea of form=Barthes' idea of work. It would seem that with the presence of a tangible object, the new criticism believed an analysis would follow. On the other hand, Barthes disputed such a notion, believing that set objects have set, yet general and public definitions. Barthes therefore argued for the importance of the "text" as everything it encompassed had meaning up for readers' interpretations. If a text is not tangible, however, how does a reader access it? Through what sense does a reader understand such a text? And, if a text is always up for analysis, is any one text available to multiple readers?
In my philosophy class, we've been spending a lot of time talking about substace; specifically, Aristotle's conception of substance versus Hume's Bundle Theory. This came to my mind in today's lecture while Professor Doane talked about the semic code. She said that the semic code involves characterization: attaching attributes and qualities to characters, places, objects, etc. But the implication here is that a character in a text is not a person, it's simply a proper name with associated qualities and properties. This represents the crux of the debate over the existence of substance. For Hume, every person, every object, every being is basically just a character when considered through the semic code. His Bundle Theory states that substance does not exist; that everything is an amalgamation of individual properties, which do not inhere in anything at all. However, Aristotle's opinion opposes Hume's: he believes that there is in fact something for each individual property to inhere in, and that beings and objects are more than just the sum of their parts; they have an intangible nature, or, substance. This leads me to realize that real people, physical objects, and living beings are all substantial, or representative of Aristotle's views, while characters represented in a text, or even in film, are all examples of Hume's Bundle Theory.
Starring a text: a few questions
I'm not exactly sure what is gained from picking apart a text by enumerating the seemingly infinite codes and connotations within it. Barthes assures us at length,
It seems to me that starring the text contradictorily both de-structures and restructures the text, excessively on both fronts. Is it really necessary to take up a project of explicating absolutely all of what can be inferred from the text (like, say, definitions of actions, symbols, culturally-specific facts)? (Also, why have most but not all the instances of "signifier" been changed to "signified" on pages 16-19 in our copy of the reading?)
My bigger curiosity is what better or more efficient means of knowledge apprehension there may be apart from a hermeneutic approach to a text, such as the one Barthes so skillfully displays. For instance, only convention requires us to read an English text from left to right and top to bottom. Were I to read (or even "write") random words from any place in the text and move on non-linearly, Barthes' starred codes would hardly apply. Another instance of ambiguous signification is shown plainly by Barthes: how is meaning transformed by the act of direct quotation? He gives a "tauromachian" explanation of citation (22-23) which I can't exactly make sense of.
...to study this text down to the last detail is to take up the structural analysis of narrative where it has been left till now: at the major structures; it is to assume the power...of working back along the threads of meanings, of abandoning no site of the signifier without endeavoring to ascertain the code or codes of which this site is perhaps the starting point (or the goal); it is...to substitute for the simple representative model another model, whose very gradualness would guarantee what may be productive in the classic text; for the step-by-step method, through its very slowness and dispersion, avoids penetrating, reversing the tutor text, giving an internal imag of it" it is never anything but the decomposition (in the cinematographic sense) of the work of reading: a slow motion, so to speak, neither wholly image nor wholly analysis; it is, finally, in the very writing of the commentary, a systematic use of digression (a form ill-accommodated by the discourse of knowledge) and thereby a way of observing the reversibility of the structures from which the text is woven; of course, the classic text is incompletely reversible (it is modestly plural): the reading of this text occurs within a necessary order, which the gradual analysis will make precisely its order in writing; but the step-by-step commentary is of necessity a renewal of the entrances to the text, it avoids structuring the text excessively, avoids giving it that additional structure which would come from a dissertation and would close it: it stars the text, instead of assembling it. (12-13)
It seems to me that starring the text contradictorily both de-structures and restructures the text, excessively on both fronts. Is it really necessary to take up a project of explicating absolutely all of what can be inferred from the text (like, say, definitions of actions, symbols, culturally-specific facts)? (Also, why have most but not all the instances of "signifier" been changed to "signified" on pages 16-19 in our copy of the reading?)
My bigger curiosity is what better or more efficient means of knowledge apprehension there may be apart from a hermeneutic approach to a text, such as the one Barthes so skillfully displays. For instance, only convention requires us to read an English text from left to right and top to bottom. Were I to read (or even "write") random words from any place in the text and move on non-linearly, Barthes' starred codes would hardly apply. Another instance of ambiguous signification is shown plainly by Barthes: how is meaning transformed by the act of direct quotation? He gives a "tauromachian" explanation of citation (22-23) which I can't exactly make sense of.
derrida, levi-strauss, and reassemblage
In The Violence of the Letter, Derrida critiques the ethnocentrism present in The Writing Lesson of Levi-Strauss. Derrida writes, "On the other hand- it is the other side of the same gesture-if Levi-Strauss constantly recognizes the pertinence of the division between peoples with and peoples without writing, this division is effaced by him from the moment that one might ethnocentrically wish to make it play a role in the reflection on history and on the respective values of cultures" (121). By saying that the Nambikwara could not write, only "draw lines" is critiqued when Derrida states "Is not ethnocentrism always betrayed by the haste with which it is satisfied by certain translations or certain domestic equivalents?" (123). It is not that the Nambikwara cannot "write," it is just that their form of "writing" is devalued based on an ethnocentric viewpoint brought by an anthropologist.
This tied into Trinh T. Minh-ha's film Reassemblage in the fact that Minh-ha's goal was not to "speak about" the Senegalese women, but rather to "speak nearby." It turns the tradition of ethnography and ethnocentrism on its head by not privilging one culture over another, even unintentionally. Minh-ha attempts to show the "facts" as they are, and not place value judgements on them. This "speaking nearby" is something that Levi-Strauss does not do, and something that Derrida calls him out on.
This tied into Trinh T. Minh-ha's film Reassemblage in the fact that Minh-ha's goal was not to "speak about" the Senegalese women, but rather to "speak nearby." It turns the tradition of ethnography and ethnocentrism on its head by not privilging one culture over another, even unintentionally. Minh-ha attempts to show the "facts" as they are, and not place value judgements on them. This "speaking nearby" is something that Levi-Strauss does not do, and something that Derrida calls him out on.
cross discipline connection
While trying to understand Barthes' thoughts on "interpretation", 'the broken text" and many other aspects of "From Work to Text" I remembered readings from an art history class. Carl Einstein wrote about his "problem" with Rodin and sculpture in general. Einstein wanted a new way to look at sculpture. He asserted that to understand a piece by Rodin you had to annihilate the materiality of the piece. The nature of Rodin's work -- the "modele" "thumbprintyness" of the piece forces viewers to bring it into present to see "the meaning". a better example of this, if you're not sure of why Rodin's work would need you to annihilate its materiality is pointillism. you have to ignore the fact that it is just little dots "to see" the painting--or do you? the painting is a collection of dots but also a picture created by the structure of those dots. Point and picture are mutually exclusive, but paradoxically contingent upon one and other. as a viewer you have to choose a way to interpret what is in front of you-- I don't really remember the rest of what Einstein said, but I found the same dance around viewer and participation, materiality of the medium and meaning in Barthes work and it was helpful to think about these same questions in a more concrete way.
My short (open) texts….
1) Derrida’s contention that writing is the undervalued category in the writing/speech binary opposition appears to be a counter-intuitive and a(nti)-factual/historical move, in my view. The age-old proverb “Verba Volant, scripta manent” – that so well captures the privileging of writing over speech/the written “text” (not necessarily in the Derridean or Barthesian sense) over the spoken one – was imparted to me in early childhood and constantly repeated in school to me and my fellow classmates.
Beyond my personal experience and constructed “ideology” regarding writing/speech, I would like to refer to the "archive/repertoire" binary opposition that is so prominent in the emerging discipline of Performance Studies (scholar Diana Taylor, for example, wrote a book entitled precisely "The Archive and the Repertoire"). This opposition – connected primarily to an anxiety about the ephemerality and traceless-ness of speech/the “spoken word” (as well as of “incorporated” – as opposed to “inscribed” practices, to use Paul Connerton’s terminology), supports the “superiority” of writing over “speech”. Moreover, specific peoples (in Africa, the Americas) were denied “identity”/”history” in the course of “History” on the grounds that they lacked written records that would have entitled them to these.
The “rise of the public sphere” (Habermas) marked an age in which the emphasis on the writing became even more prominent, I would suggest. The contemporary world – in which everything happens in/through writing – has “inherited” this “obsession for the trace”.
After providing these “facts” in support of my argument, I will now re-consider Derrida’s fundamental claim about the writing/speech binary from a different perspective. As a purely intellectual construct, opening the category of writing to mean "ecriture" (the play of difference of language), Derrida’s claims become (for me) an intriguing, fascinating, and mysterious thought-experiment. Paradoxically, however, with the proliferation of Derridean theory (at least in the academic environment) and in politics – in a much distilled form, it appears that this “thought-experiment” has the potential of “actually” producing change into a factuality/reality that it (purposefully?) bracketed in/by Derrida.
2.1) The concept of “textuality” employed by Barthes seems to designate the quality of being a text. The question that intrigues me is whether this quality is inherent or extraneous, necessary or contingent. It appears to me that Barthes is particularly ambivalent with regard to this issue.
2.2) On page 156 of the essay ”From Work to Text”, Barthes states: “the combined action of Marxism, Freudianism and structuralism demands, in literature, the relativization of the relations of writer, reader, and observer (critic)”. The preservation of the three categories (“writer”, “reader”, “critic”) is surprising to me given Barthes’ proclamation of “the death of the author” and of the reader as producer. What need can there be for the critic if meaning (some meaning) is available for everyone and there is no such thing as “The Meaning” whom only the privileged critic is supposed to grasp?
The preservation of the critic as a distinct category in the equation of writing-reading appears to me to align Barthes with the New Critics who claimed that “Not everybody can do criticism.” (Ransom, “Criticism, Inc.”, 336), and, implicitly, that the critic can read “deeper” than the reader.
2.3) Can legality/the “Law” still retain its authority if text as a “methodological field” (as Prof. Doane defined it) is legitimated to the extent that it completely substitutes “the work”?
Beyond my personal experience and constructed “ideology” regarding writing/speech, I would like to refer to the "archive/repertoire" binary opposition that is so prominent in the emerging discipline of Performance Studies (scholar Diana Taylor, for example, wrote a book entitled precisely "The Archive and the Repertoire"). This opposition – connected primarily to an anxiety about the ephemerality and traceless-ness of speech/the “spoken word” (as well as of “incorporated” – as opposed to “inscribed” practices, to use Paul Connerton’s terminology), supports the “superiority” of writing over “speech”. Moreover, specific peoples (in Africa, the Americas) were denied “identity”/”history” in the course of “History” on the grounds that they lacked written records that would have entitled them to these.
The “rise of the public sphere” (Habermas) marked an age in which the emphasis on the writing became even more prominent, I would suggest. The contemporary world – in which everything happens in/through writing – has “inherited” this “obsession for the trace”.
After providing these “facts” in support of my argument, I will now re-consider Derrida’s fundamental claim about the writing/speech binary from a different perspective. As a purely intellectual construct, opening the category of writing to mean "ecriture" (the play of difference of language), Derrida’s claims become (for me) an intriguing, fascinating, and mysterious thought-experiment. Paradoxically, however, with the proliferation of Derridean theory (at least in the academic environment) and in politics – in a much distilled form, it appears that this “thought-experiment” has the potential of “actually” producing change into a factuality/reality that it (purposefully?) bracketed in/by Derrida.
2.1) The concept of “textuality” employed by Barthes seems to designate the quality of being a text. The question that intrigues me is whether this quality is inherent or extraneous, necessary or contingent. It appears to me that Barthes is particularly ambivalent with regard to this issue.
2.2) On page 156 of the essay ”From Work to Text”, Barthes states: “the combined action of Marxism, Freudianism and structuralism demands, in literature, the relativization of the relations of writer, reader, and observer (critic)”. The preservation of the three categories (“writer”, “reader”, “critic”) is surprising to me given Barthes’ proclamation of “the death of the author” and of the reader as producer. What need can there be for the critic if meaning (some meaning) is available for everyone and there is no such thing as “The Meaning” whom only the privileged critic is supposed to grasp?
The preservation of the critic as a distinct category in the equation of writing-reading appears to me to align Barthes with the New Critics who claimed that “Not everybody can do criticism.” (Ransom, “Criticism, Inc.”, 336), and, implicitly, that the critic can read “deeper” than the reader.
2.3) Can legality/the “Law” still retain its authority if text as a “methodological field” (as Prof. Doane defined it) is legitimated to the extent that it completely substitutes “the work”?
"Joint Presentation"
In his analysis of Sarrasine, Barthes points out various instances where the symbolic code applies to the short story. Of course, many of these antitheses do coalesce together, in a sense (youthful Marianina can touch the decrepit old man, meanwhile La Zambinella destroys the male/female dichotomy). But Barthes also notes in Sarrasine moments where a boundary between two parts of a binary opposition is not actually broken down, but is instead straddled. For example, Barthes calls to attention the mention of a window recess in the story: "recess, an intermediate place between garden and salon, death and life." (21)
How do these possibilities-- option A, or option B, or neither option, or maybe even both-- work in regards to who or what occupies them? Barthes mentions that the "joint presentation" can be used rhetorically to "introduce and summarize the antithesis" (21), but can that middle ground, that neutral space, be occupied as if it were a clearly defined pole or even perhaps the space which is left when the dichotomy breaks down?
How do these possibilities-- option A, or option B, or neither option, or maybe even both-- work in regards to who or what occupies them? Barthes mentions that the "joint presentation" can be used rhetorically to "introduce and summarize the antithesis" (21), but can that middle ground, that neutral space, be occupied as if it were a clearly defined pole or even perhaps the space which is left when the dichotomy breaks down?
Friday, February 20, 2009
02/19 Lecture: Power and Knowledge
It was my first impression that the lecture from today accounted Foucault’s essay seemed different and somewhat departed from my initial understanding when I was reading. However, I also have to admit that I had so much confusion at the first time, but the lecture’s presentation of his ideas from different angle (at least, different for me) had me understand better and help me to absolve some questions.
I was wondering what the relationship between power and knowledge can be defined or even just explicated as Foucault put a great emphasis on their almost interchangeable nature. Is power ubiquitous? How could he have come to a definite conclusion that power is always positive?
First, I begin with knowledge: how is knowledge obtained (or learned)? Although I personally cannot give a precise definition of knowledge, I almost certainly believe that knowledge is exchanged and transferred as a form of semiotics. In other words, in order for one to learn about a fact or even just to recognize the other person’s idea, information or any “knowledge”, it is required for them to communicate with some sort of medium that they both can understand and recognize. In this sense, (possible that I am stretching) power is everywhere because as far as I know there are no people without language. The omnipotent nature of power becomes more evident when considering “discourse”. While people are conversing, one may present an idea or possibly something only existed within oneself. The other person in front of him would learn; now, the knowledge that was only one’s becomes available to another. As this process of building knowledge through medium of language, Foucault’s claim that power is always positive seems to be correct to me. Just logically thinking without employing Foucault’s explanation, I think of power as force that is exerted with an expectation to have some kind of outcome. Outcome can be negative, positive, or even neutral; however, power certainly works only in one direction. First, I thought it is not even logical to say power is positive or negative. But, when considering the nature of power first being ubiquitous and second something exerted, it is always positive.
Even I now understand and mostly agree with Foucault, there is still a question. As I personally believe that things that are not tangible like emotion, characteristics, virtue and etc. are defined by relativity and opposition, I wonder if power can be defined in the same way.
I was wondering what the relationship between power and knowledge can be defined or even just explicated as Foucault put a great emphasis on their almost interchangeable nature. Is power ubiquitous? How could he have come to a definite conclusion that power is always positive?
First, I begin with knowledge: how is knowledge obtained (or learned)? Although I personally cannot give a precise definition of knowledge, I almost certainly believe that knowledge is exchanged and transferred as a form of semiotics. In other words, in order for one to learn about a fact or even just to recognize the other person’s idea, information or any “knowledge”, it is required for them to communicate with some sort of medium that they both can understand and recognize. In this sense, (possible that I am stretching) power is everywhere because as far as I know there are no people without language. The omnipotent nature of power becomes more evident when considering “discourse”. While people are conversing, one may present an idea or possibly something only existed within oneself. The other person in front of him would learn; now, the knowledge that was only one’s becomes available to another. As this process of building knowledge through medium of language, Foucault’s claim that power is always positive seems to be correct to me. Just logically thinking without employing Foucault’s explanation, I think of power as force that is exerted with an expectation to have some kind of outcome. Outcome can be negative, positive, or even neutral; however, power certainly works only in one direction. First, I thought it is not even logical to say power is positive or negative. But, when considering the nature of power first being ubiquitous and second something exerted, it is always positive.
Even I now understand and mostly agree with Foucault, there is still a question. As I personally believe that things that are not tangible like emotion, characteristics, virtue and etc. are defined by relativity and opposition, I wonder if power can be defined in the same way.
Like Caitlin, I also took interest in Foucault’s idea of punishment. The fact that he made the punishment types site specific, however, was misleading. Although Caitlin mentioned that his main focus was on the body, I found that Foucault’s idea of “authority” was the true site source in that all punishments occurred within society. While Foucault uses the term “site” to describe the effect the punishment had on the victim, the ultimate effect of these punishments is on society itself. It seems that society inflicts a certain pain upon itself, perhaps through the individual, yet eventually on the public in the public sphere. In this sense, it seems difficult to claim any sort of progression. While the punishment types may vary, the cycle of society producing punishments and these punishments becoming mainstays in society continues. This phenomenon, while taking place within society, has the ability to affect body, soul, and mind, despite the specific punishment type.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
(Post)modern Discipline
Foucault introduces Bentham's Panopticon in the context of a plague-ridden society:
I wonder whether the U.S. government, in an "exercise of disciplinary power," constructs or attempts to reify imagined "plagues" to keep our society in order. "Panopticism" created an interesting dialogue with "The Body of the Condemned" to show the institutionalized rhetorical control over the way we (can) think of crime and criminals themselves. Two examples that come to mind are the war on drugs and increasing legislation meant to control digital piracy. We are brought up to believe in the power of police/authoritative oversight on illegal transactions. Pervasive supervision incurs the threat of incarceration for the purchase of illegal drugs or peer-to-peer file-sharing, for example. Obviously, this surveillance is imperfect, since drugs are bought, files shared, and even, against Foucault's illustration of "power reduced to its ideal form," exam answers shared in school.
This begs the question of whether--and when--Panoptic power ceases to be useful (say, according to certain institutional limits of size and influence). Certainly power no longer functions at the lowest possible cost, nor does it function at "maximum intensity" (218), as evidenced by relatively easy workarounds (either within institutions, as in drug trades in which providers are complicit, or illegal file/information sharing for ostensibly "allowable" purposes, within educational or governmental structures).
As resistance continues to bubble up from inside and between these complex structures of institutional and discursive power, one must wonder whether a policy of complete visibility at the threat of incarceration or defamation is the best for either party, watching or watched.
The plague-stricken town, traversed throughout with hierarchy, surveillance, observation, writing; the town immobilized by the functioning of an extensive power that bears in a distinct way over all individual bodies--this is the utopia of the perfectly governed city. The plague (envisaged as a possibility at least) is the trial in the course of which one may define ideally the exercise of disciplinary power. (198)
I wonder whether the U.S. government, in an "exercise of disciplinary power," constructs or attempts to reify imagined "plagues" to keep our society in order. "Panopticism" created an interesting dialogue with "The Body of the Condemned" to show the institutionalized rhetorical control over the way we (can) think of crime and criminals themselves. Two examples that come to mind are the war on drugs and increasing legislation meant to control digital piracy. We are brought up to believe in the power of police/authoritative oversight on illegal transactions. Pervasive supervision incurs the threat of incarceration for the purchase of illegal drugs or peer-to-peer file-sharing, for example. Obviously, this surveillance is imperfect, since drugs are bought, files shared, and even, against Foucault's illustration of "power reduced to its ideal form," exam answers shared in school.
This begs the question of whether--and when--Panoptic power ceases to be useful (say, according to certain institutional limits of size and influence). Certainly power no longer functions at the lowest possible cost, nor does it function at "maximum intensity" (218), as evidenced by relatively easy workarounds (either within institutions, as in drug trades in which providers are complicit, or illegal file/information sharing for ostensibly "allowable" purposes, within educational or governmental structures).
As resistance continues to bubble up from inside and between these complex structures of institutional and discursive power, one must wonder whether a policy of complete visibility at the threat of incarceration or defamation is the best for either party, watching or watched.
"Any individual, taken almost at random, can operate the machine: in the absence of the director, his family, his friends, his visitors, even his servants (Bentham, 45). Similarly, it does not matter what motive animates him: the curiosity of the indiscreet, the malice of a child, the thirst for knowledge of a philosopher who wishes to visit this museum of human nature, or the perversity of those who take pleasure in spying and punishing" (Panopticism, 202).
This passage brings up the concept of punishment in the Panopticon; Foucault states that anyone is capable of inflicting punishment. However, this brought to mind the question: are the captives aware of the possibility of punishment and to what extent? Do they know what punishment is waiting for them if they were to step out of line, and furthermore, what could they do to merit punishment? If each person is in total isolation, what action is he capable of to deserve punishment? If, hypothetically, no punishment were to exist, does the overseer have any power at all? Or is his constant observation punishment enough, or enough to ensure that no punishment is necessary? I do not know the answer to any of these questions, yet all point to the same overarching one: Is there authority without the possibility of inflicting punishment?
Communication
Discourse on sexuality seems to have materialized as a way to combat perversions that run counter to social norms without censoring them. Punishment would then work in the same way; the emphasis is placed on acknowledging perceived problems and the disciplines necessary for reform. It strikes me that these reformations, these acts of molding, all focus on the body (even when we're not talking about torture that explicitly focuses on the tangible body) because these bodies can be used as vessels of communication. Perhaps then discipline is so focused on the body because the soul and mind rely on it to exist;
Foucault also mentions that a person is defined by their actions; a person who commits is a crime is defined primarily as a criminal, making the person "faceless." In what way does that facilitate individualism? Is it because disciplinary procedures then need to be so focused on the individual, establishing subjectivity? At first glance, defining a person by only one facet of their personality (for lack of a better word) and thus defining the individual seems almost paradoxical.
Foucault also mentions that a person is defined by their actions; a person who commits is a crime is defined primarily as a criminal, making the person "faceless." In what way does that facilitate individualism? Is it because disciplinary procedures then need to be so focused on the individual, establishing subjectivity? At first glance, defining a person by only one facet of their personality (for lack of a better word) and thus defining the individual seems almost paradoxical.
Questions
Foucault mentions that "pleasure and power do not cancel or turn back against one another; they seek out, overlap and reinforce one another. They are linked together by complex mechanisms and devices of excitation and incitement." I agree with that statement, and wonder whether the relationship between power and pain is the same? The reading on punishment suggests that modern punitive practices wished to distance the relationship between power and pain--at least superficially. its seems that there was a redefinition of pain, and a more complex understanding of power that, similar to the proliferation of sources in sexuality the distribution of power/pain allowed a discourse that incorporated a self knowledge? This is a stretch I realize, but I think it is interesting to think Foucault's description of knowledge/power relationship and power/pain/pleasure relationship and the possible pain/pleasure/knowledge extrapolation that could follow that line of argument.
Discourses
1 – Morality and Physicality
I find the readings from Foucault particularly interesting as they appear to entail an indissoluble relationship between morality/the moral(1) and physicality: morality seems to “happen” on and to the body. Even though Foucault poses the question “What would a non-corporeal punishment be?” (16) – implying the possibility of a morality not grounded in the body – and proposes disciplinary practices (of modernity) as belonging to this category (of "non-corporeal practices"), I would argue that not even in this case is “the body” in any way bracketed or rendered less important. In the final analysis, disciplinary practices involve/are about a specific positioning of the body in relation to which morality is negotiated and established(2). Such an account places morality – traditionally associated with transcendence, stability, fixity, and a claim to universality – in the domain of the shifting power relations. This is, in my view, a potentially fruitful, though intriguing move, implying that the knowledge and mastery that Foucault calls “the political technology of the body” (26) could be employed as a means of investigation for gaining insights into the formation and functioning of morality within specific societies.
Thus, I would suggest, Foucault’s argument might presuppose a (perhaps unintended) reconsideration of the traditional notion of morality.
Notes
1 Following Ricoeur, I distinguish between ethics – an investigation into the domain of the “good life”, and morality – specific behaviors dictated by specific norms that are supposed to approximate the “good life”
2 I would like to draw attention that I believe – in the same line with Foucault – that morality and disciplinary practices are distinct from one another. In my view, these are also mutually inclusive categories. It is not clear to me, however, if Foucault allows for a connection between the two, or whether he denies it when he asserts: “hence the persistence in regarding them as the humble, but concrete form of every morality, whereas they are a set of physico-political techniques” (223)
2 - Discourse/Sexuality/ Actuality
Foucault’s account of (the mechanism of) sexuality is fascinating because of its (apparently paradoxical, in my view) implications. On the one hand, “the transformation of sex into discourse” (36) (a kind of “virtualization” of sexuality in a sense, perhaps) seems to be a strategy for neutralizing “bad” sexuality in social contexts in which this conflicted with dominant codes of behavior: “in order to gain mastery over it in reality, it had first been forced to subjugate it at the level of language” (17). Ironically, however, the move into discourse appears to have concrete consequences such as “sexual heterogeneities”, “a dispersion of sexualities” (36). More interestingly, the relation between language and the actual phenomenon of “multiplication of sexualities” (37) seems to be causal. A cyclical relationship possibly emerges, in which actuality/reality transforms discourse and discourse, in turn, changes actuality/reality.
This leap from discourse to actuality – however implausible it might seem – is, in my view, an intellectually appealing thought-experiment, attesting, to a certain extent, to the creative potential of language.
I find the readings from Foucault particularly interesting as they appear to entail an indissoluble relationship between morality/the moral(1) and physicality: morality seems to “happen” on and to the body. Even though Foucault poses the question “What would a non-corporeal punishment be?” (16) – implying the possibility of a morality not grounded in the body – and proposes disciplinary practices (of modernity) as belonging to this category (of "non-corporeal practices"), I would argue that not even in this case is “the body” in any way bracketed or rendered less important. In the final analysis, disciplinary practices involve/are about a specific positioning of the body in relation to which morality is negotiated and established(2). Such an account places morality – traditionally associated with transcendence, stability, fixity, and a claim to universality – in the domain of the shifting power relations. This is, in my view, a potentially fruitful, though intriguing move, implying that the knowledge and mastery that Foucault calls “the political technology of the body” (26) could be employed as a means of investigation for gaining insights into the formation and functioning of morality within specific societies.
Thus, I would suggest, Foucault’s argument might presuppose a (perhaps unintended) reconsideration of the traditional notion of morality.
Notes
1 Following Ricoeur, I distinguish between ethics – an investigation into the domain of the “good life”, and morality – specific behaviors dictated by specific norms that are supposed to approximate the “good life”
2 I would like to draw attention that I believe – in the same line with Foucault – that morality and disciplinary practices are distinct from one another. In my view, these are also mutually inclusive categories. It is not clear to me, however, if Foucault allows for a connection between the two, or whether he denies it when he asserts: “hence the persistence in regarding them as the humble, but concrete form of every morality, whereas they are a set of physico-political techniques” (223)
2 - Discourse/Sexuality/ Actuality
Foucault’s account of (the mechanism of) sexuality is fascinating because of its (apparently paradoxical, in my view) implications. On the one hand, “the transformation of sex into discourse” (36) (a kind of “virtualization” of sexuality in a sense, perhaps) seems to be a strategy for neutralizing “bad” sexuality in social contexts in which this conflicted with dominant codes of behavior: “in order to gain mastery over it in reality, it had first been forced to subjugate it at the level of language” (17). Ironically, however, the move into discourse appears to have concrete consequences such as “sexual heterogeneities”, “a dispersion of sexualities” (36). More interestingly, the relation between language and the actual phenomenon of “multiplication of sexualities” (37) seems to be causal. A cyclical relationship possibly emerges, in which actuality/reality transforms discourse and discourse, in turn, changes actuality/reality.
This leap from discourse to actuality – however implausible it might seem – is, in my view, an intellectually appealing thought-experiment, attesting, to a certain extent, to the creative potential of language.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
response to Ioana
Ioana,
I think your first question is fascinating because it demands that we contextualize Levi Strauss through a greater examination of what might constitute the modern condition of intellectual thought. it seems that there was a shift from the search for reason and meaning in the world or at least ways to understand culture and society, to other objectives or ideals, and structuralism was certainly one of those. In light of modernity's disorienting power the literal structure with which to view the world must have seemed to Levi-Strauss completely necessary even if just on a rudimentary level.
As to the relationship between reason and structure, to say that they both serve to find or create meaning or "sense", is to overlook the shift in intellectual thought that began this discussion. if you abandon the notion that there is reason, or a rational process that governs culture you are in a sense abandoning the need and desire to make sense but not the desire to understand. the difference between these two principles is maybe (this could be entirely wrong) the same dialectic that lies behind the Freudian concept of the uncanny-- the push and pull between the world your know and one that is entirely unfamiliar--the unfamiliarity produced by a world where humans cannot be the source of reason.
I think your first question is fascinating because it demands that we contextualize Levi Strauss through a greater examination of what might constitute the modern condition of intellectual thought. it seems that there was a shift from the search for reason and meaning in the world or at least ways to understand culture and society, to other objectives or ideals, and structuralism was certainly one of those. In light of modernity's disorienting power the literal structure with which to view the world must have seemed to Levi-Strauss completely necessary even if just on a rudimentary level.
As to the relationship between reason and structure, to say that they both serve to find or create meaning or "sense", is to overlook the shift in intellectual thought that began this discussion. if you abandon the notion that there is reason, or a rational process that governs culture you are in a sense abandoning the need and desire to make sense but not the desire to understand. the difference between these two principles is maybe (this could be entirely wrong) the same dialectic that lies behind the Freudian concept of the uncanny-- the push and pull between the world your know and one that is entirely unfamiliar--the unfamiliarity produced by a world where humans cannot be the source of reason.
Screening: Reassemblage
Although I should have paid more attention to underlying meanings to this film, as I go over my notes from the screening section, it seems that I was more attracted by the techniques and some of the details intentionally inserted by the director. First, the film starts with somewhat exotic and at the same time chaotic sound without any visual presentation except total darkness. This seems to disorient viewers from their usual surrounding and take them to a new world. In fact, when some visual presentation takes a part, the setting is in Senegal, Africa; however, this time, there is no background sound (once again, this is not usual for the viewers). There is a narration in English with a voice of a woman. When she narrates, there is still visual presentation, but no sound. The subject of this film becomes more apparent as the film processes. The camera lens seems to have focused on the activities of women in Senegal, possibly including the social and matrimonial expectations. Thereby, the film accounts the social status of Women in Senegal. Repetition and use of jump-cuts visually translates the boredom and mundane life.
ruminations
Upon first viewing "Reassemblage" I have to admit that I left List feeling very confused about what I had just watched. While trying to place the film in the ethnographic genre, in watching the film, I found myself slightly troubled by how I should interpret the multiple focuses on the Senegalese women (in particular their breasts) in the film. Should I interpret it as a male gaze in the spirit of Mulvey? But then again, the film is made by a woman manufacturing the film through a feminist film studio (Women Make Movies), so maybe it's more of an empowering statement. However, Minh-ha's point started to come across with her voice over stating, roughly, that a couple go to see an anthropological film and afterwards the husband shamefully turns to his wife and says that he is not sure if he witnessed an ethnography or a pornography. Here Minh-ha does a great critique of the traditional ethnographic images of naked tribal women, and brings into question what is "art" and what is "pornography." In fact, in that light, her whole film becomes a critique of how ethnography is presented and her film does a great job in highlighting stereotypes, discrepancies and generalizations that are present in many ethnographic films.
Does Levi-Strauss directly equate mythology with exogamy at all? If women represent signs for communication that are to be exchanged outside of a group, then they're used as links to a social world. Myth appears to work similarly in that it is constructed to meet a communication goal, in this case rationalization. Both are further equated with language (though perhaps speech or discourse would be a better term) in that they contain elements that on their own are insignificant but gain meaning when all elements are viewed as a whole.
However, Levi-Strauss rejected the notion that myths serve primarily social functions and were instead logical, while exogamy and the incest taboo do seem social (though perhaps not in construct--can a social function originate from a universal construct?) Do mythology and exogamy serve similar purposes despite their apparently different (to me) goals?
On another note, where do other rationalizations against the incest taboo fit into Levi-Strauss' proposal, even if they are not universal as he claims the exogamy rationalization is?
However, Levi-Strauss rejected the notion that myths serve primarily social functions and were instead logical, while exogamy and the incest taboo do seem social (though perhaps not in construct--can a social function originate from a universal construct?) Do mythology and exogamy serve similar purposes despite their apparently different (to me) goals?
On another note, where do other rationalizations against the incest taboo fit into Levi-Strauss' proposal, even if they are not universal as he claims the exogamy rationalization is?
Comments on "Structure"
I found that there were many points in Benveniste's discussion of "structure" in linguistics that deserve further investigation. In his summary of Saussure's view of the systematic nature of language, he points out that any sign in isolation, that is without the context of a system, is characterized only by its lack of significance. This parallels the structuralist view in neuropsychology of "top-down" vs. "bottom-up" analyses; using the brain as an example, it is clear that each tiny segment of neuronal fiber is completely without function when isolated from its concomitants. The paralleled shift in linguistics from historical analysis to intrinsic structuralism shows that while each sign is always arbitrary, there is no diachronic basis for their incorporation into the system. They come together and function because that is all they have been known to do. Benveniste goes on to say that "certain combinations are frequent, others fairly rare, and still others, while theoretically possible, are never realized." It is important understand to what degree we are able to hypothesize about what is "theoretically possible" in language, and what elements of the structural approach are indeed intrinsic in our conception of discourse.
When discussing Levi-Strauss’ idea of myths in class, it was brought up that there exist many differences between Levi Strauss’ work and that of Barthes. For Levi-Strauss, a myth is a universal structure of mind. For Barthes, however, there exist no universal bonds as he believes every individual attempts to create his or her own meaning and no meaning is thus “fixed”. While the focuses of Levi-Strauss and Barthes’ theories center on universality and individuality respectively, similarities are present. For instance, I found that Levi-Strauss’ rejection of an “original” myth was reminiscent of Barthes’ “The Death of the Author”. Both theories disregard initial creation in favor of reaction. Similarly, the myth according to Levi-Strauss acts as an unconscious structure and product of the mind, much alike Barthes’ concept of writing in that readers supply the meaning for a piece of writing. My question then is, to what extent do readers, albeit creating different meanings, fall under a universal group? Each reader undergoes the same process of interpretation so does the process of individuality become evidence for a greater universality? Also, does Levi-Strauss’ incorporate individualistic undertones in the sense that he defines myth as an unconscious product of the mind? Or does he consider all unconscious thoughts in all minds to be alike?
On Structure without structure
My contribution to the blog this week is in the form of a string of notes, observations, and puzzlements:
1) In Levi-Stauss’s The Science of the Concrete, “classify(ing)”, “order”, “organization”, and, of course, “relation(s)” and “system(s)” are recurring terms. On page 15, Levi-Strauss even asserts (appears to assert) that “Any classification is superior to chaos and even a classification at the level of sensible properties is a step towards rational ordering”. In a sense, therefore, structuralism (understood here as the method that Levi-Strauss is proposing for knowledge acquisition) appears to be an undertaking whose goal is to make sense of the world by putting order into the “things out there”. These observations represent the grounds for the hypothesis that there is a connection between structuralism and rationalism, or, perhaps, even that structuralism is an “updated” and equally abstract version of rationalism that refocuses attention from the human being/subject as possessor of reason to an abstract entity (“structure”). (To what extent )Can “structure” be viewed as a substitution and re-consideration of the (once upon a time) all powerful “reason”?
Despite the differences, it appears to me that both “reason” and “structure” do a similar kind of work: they offer a tool (as well as a vocabulary) for making "sense" (however vague this notion might be) of a world of variables and unknowns.
2) I find Levi-Strauss’s discussion of the concept of the “sign” as an operative principle in relation to the “two parallel modes of acquiring knowledge” (the engineer and the bricoleur) (13) he posits particularly worthy of consideration in the context of an investigation of “Structuralism” and “Structure” (as the one Benveniste is undertaking in the reading for this week). Levi-Strauss’s “splitting” of the sign, his separation of (the inseparable, for Saussure) “concept” and “image” from the “sign” indicates, in my view, that “the sign” and “structure” are constructs, rather than some sort of necessary “essences”. Even though I am aware that Levi-Strauss does not explicitly make such a move, I believe that acknowledging that “structure” and the “sign” are human/cultural constructs (therefore, not necessary) would be an act of honesty and, perhaps, bravery that would make structuralism all the more fascinating for me.
3) Although I admire Levi-Strauss’ attempt to denounce the validity of the denomination “primitive(s)” as applied to certain groups (which also seems to be consonant with his rejection of “origins”), I believe that he does not altogether succeed in undoing the inferior/superior scale commonly in operation in some discourses about diverse human societies/groups (most of the discourses before him, I would suggest). In his discussion on the “engineer” and the “bricoleur” it appears (to me, at least) that the “engineer” is placed on a higher rung on an abstract hierarchical ladder than the “bricoleur” is. In support of this idea, I would like to mention Levi-Strauss’s explicit appreciation for science and the scientific method (he refutes Freud’s argument in Totem and Taboo precisely for not being “scientific” enough and aims to (re)establish psychoanalysis as a “social science”).
4) Finally, I would like to point to – what I believe to be – a similarity/correspondence between the event-to structure progression in myth and the structure-to-event progression in science, on the one hand, and the inductive (necessarily fallible) method and the deductive (truth-preserving) method identified in traditional philosophy. Interestingly, in traditional philosophy, the inductive method – not the deductive one, which the proposed parallelism would imply, is associated with science.
1) In Levi-Stauss’s The Science of the Concrete, “classify(ing)”, “order”, “organization”, and, of course, “relation(s)” and “system(s)” are recurring terms. On page 15, Levi-Strauss even asserts (appears to assert) that “Any classification is superior to chaos and even a classification at the level of sensible properties is a step towards rational ordering”. In a sense, therefore, structuralism (understood here as the method that Levi-Strauss is proposing for knowledge acquisition) appears to be an undertaking whose goal is to make sense of the world by putting order into the “things out there”. These observations represent the grounds for the hypothesis that there is a connection between structuralism and rationalism, or, perhaps, even that structuralism is an “updated” and equally abstract version of rationalism that refocuses attention from the human being/subject as possessor of reason to an abstract entity (“structure”). (To what extent )Can “structure” be viewed as a substitution and re-consideration of the (once upon a time) all powerful “reason”?
Despite the differences, it appears to me that both “reason” and “structure” do a similar kind of work: they offer a tool (as well as a vocabulary) for making "sense" (however vague this notion might be) of a world of variables and unknowns.
2) I find Levi-Strauss’s discussion of the concept of the “sign” as an operative principle in relation to the “two parallel modes of acquiring knowledge” (the engineer and the bricoleur) (13) he posits particularly worthy of consideration in the context of an investigation of “Structuralism” and “Structure” (as the one Benveniste is undertaking in the reading for this week). Levi-Strauss’s “splitting” of the sign, his separation of (the inseparable, for Saussure) “concept” and “image” from the “sign” indicates, in my view, that “the sign” and “structure” are constructs, rather than some sort of necessary “essences”. Even though I am aware that Levi-Strauss does not explicitly make such a move, I believe that acknowledging that “structure” and the “sign” are human/cultural constructs (therefore, not necessary) would be an act of honesty and, perhaps, bravery that would make structuralism all the more fascinating for me.
3) Although I admire Levi-Strauss’ attempt to denounce the validity of the denomination “primitive(s)” as applied to certain groups (which also seems to be consonant with his rejection of “origins”), I believe that he does not altogether succeed in undoing the inferior/superior scale commonly in operation in some discourses about diverse human societies/groups (most of the discourses before him, I would suggest). In his discussion on the “engineer” and the “bricoleur” it appears (to me, at least) that the “engineer” is placed on a higher rung on an abstract hierarchical ladder than the “bricoleur” is. In support of this idea, I would like to mention Levi-Strauss’s explicit appreciation for science and the scientific method (he refutes Freud’s argument in Totem and Taboo precisely for not being “scientific” enough and aims to (re)establish psychoanalysis as a “social science”).
4) Finally, I would like to point to – what I believe to be – a similarity/correspondence between the event-to structure progression in myth and the structure-to-event progression in science, on the one hand, and the inductive (necessarily fallible) method and the deductive (truth-preserving) method identified in traditional philosophy. Interestingly, in traditional philosophy, the inductive method – not the deductive one, which the proposed parallelism would imply, is associated with science.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
“This is a universe”
In Michael Snow’s film, the author says, “the author would like to have been first (to make films that concentrate on texts), but it’s too late. In some respects this is first. Obviously this is not the first time that this has been used for the first time. This belongs to everybody.” It was definitely a diversion of thinking. I found an interesting point there: a transformational meaning of the word “this.” At the beginning, “this” indicated “films that concentrate on texts.” But its meaning got changed to a just demonstrative pronoun, a word “this,” which means “this” could be or indicate anything. “This” became a representation of universe. As author says, “this belongs to everybody. This means this, you think this, wee see this, they use this.” This is a signifier.
This arbitrariness is shown in paintings as well. Surrealistic artist, Rene Magritte draw a pipe and write like this: “ceci n’est pas une pipe(This is not a pipe)”, right under the pipe. When we see the painting, we immediately and almost automatically think “this” image is a pipe, and “this” is a pipe, that is why we get confused when we see the sentence “ceci n’est pas une pipe.” It is arbitrariness. Since image is a just imitation, and language is a just representation, image and language both are arbitrary.
This arbitrariness is shown in paintings as well. Surrealistic artist, Rene Magritte draw a pipe and write like this: “ceci n’est pas une pipe(This is not a pipe)”, right under the pipe. When we see the painting, we immediately and almost automatically think “this” image is a pipe, and “this” is a pipe, that is why we get confused when we see the sentence “ceci n’est pas une pipe.” It is arbitrariness. Since image is a just imitation, and language is a just representation, image and language both are arbitrary.
This, I, You
Focusing on “So Is This”, I noticed that throughout the film, Snow refers to himself as “the author”, not “I” or “the director”. He makes a choice of not using the pronoun “I” to refer to himself, yet refers to the viewer as “you” and repetitiously emphasizes the word “this”. The usual role-shifting of the words “I” and “you” does not occur between the author and the viewer. It only occurs in the viewer’s mind, as he or she translates the “you” that he/she sees to the concept of self.
On the other hand, Snow overuses the word “this”. “This” is a true shifter; the meaning can be occupied by any referent, and it isn’t always clear in the film what the referent is in that particular context. Snow’s decision to emphasize the shifter “this” and confuse the viewer at times, but refrain from using “I” and simplify the thought process (although at most times unconsciously done) of going back and forth from “you” and “I” raises the question, was Snow’s intention to confuse or not to confuse the viewers? Was it just a personal preference to choose the word “this” for emphasis rather than “you” or “I” or any other pronoun? Or does his intention not even matter because of what Barthe claims about authorial intentions?
Perhaps it was that “this” can refer to a lot more things than “you” or “I” can. If used, “I” would only refer to the author himself in this case, because there is no direct communication between the author and the viewer. It is one-sided. The author can refer to the viewer as “you”, and the meaning of the word “you” would be occupied by anyone present in the room, whereas saying “I” would only refer to Snow himself throughout the whole film. The viewer referring to themselves by saying “I” in their minds, wouldn’t count necessarily because it never gets delivered to the author; it never gets uttered and it just remains as a concept of the self. Referring to himself as “I” would have just been less interesting for Snow because in the context, “I” wouldn’t play its full role as a shifter; it would just remain a word describing the author. Also, since the viewers are “reading” the film, using “I” instead of “author” would just simply confuse them because they are saying to themselves “I” for the author and “you” for themselves, but have to switch them back in their heads.
On the other hand, Snow overuses the word “this”. “This” is a true shifter; the meaning can be occupied by any referent, and it isn’t always clear in the film what the referent is in that particular context. Snow’s decision to emphasize the shifter “this” and confuse the viewer at times, but refrain from using “I” and simplify the thought process (although at most times unconsciously done) of going back and forth from “you” and “I” raises the question, was Snow’s intention to confuse or not to confuse the viewers? Was it just a personal preference to choose the word “this” for emphasis rather than “you” or “I” or any other pronoun? Or does his intention not even matter because of what Barthe claims about authorial intentions?
Perhaps it was that “this” can refer to a lot more things than “you” or “I” can. If used, “I” would only refer to the author himself in this case, because there is no direct communication between the author and the viewer. It is one-sided. The author can refer to the viewer as “you”, and the meaning of the word “you” would be occupied by anyone present in the room, whereas saying “I” would only refer to Snow himself throughout the whole film. The viewer referring to themselves by saying “I” in their minds, wouldn’t count necessarily because it never gets delivered to the author; it never gets uttered and it just remains as a concept of the self. Referring to himself as “I” would have just been less interesting for Snow because in the context, “I” wouldn’t play its full role as a shifter; it would just remain a word describing the author. Also, since the viewers are “reading” the film, using “I” instead of “author” would just simply confuse them because they are saying to themselves “I” for the author and “you” for themselves, but have to switch them back in their heads.
02-03 Lecture (personal reflection)
I truely believe and appreciate about my uniqueness and that of people around me especially as I was cautiously making assumption about the world functioning in a wheel of harmony. Harmony is achieved by the infinite polarities created by the very existance of every single one of us with different and unique personality, talent, character and etc.
Now that it is established each individual is unique in some ways. Let us examine how we refer such self. In order to refer a self that is so unique, different, and thus inportant self, I personally employ this single letter, "I". I would not possibly assert that I know perfertly everything about myself. But, I can humbly tell you that it would be me who knows about myself better more than anyone in the world. With this self-recognition, I have enough knowledge and confidence to refer "my - self" as "I".
However, no matter how hard (although in reality everyone just take the use of "I" for granted) one should try to the level of self-recognition enabling oneself to call his or her self" as "I", I would not be only one using "I" to refer my ego: everyone in fact refers him/herself as "I". In some ways, do you not wonder about the possible hindrance upon your subjectivity and individuality? It is also true that while referring yourself as "I", you are losing the very notion of your "self" that is very critical and priceless. It seems to me I am giving up uniqueness and individuality, what is the result of long time self investigation and investment when using "I".
This type of concern and feeling of frustration do not last long. Instead, they are replaced by the thoughts that once again amaze me about humanity and myself. In fact, did I lose individuality? Or, am I not the person I was before? This is what's so profound--I (this applies to everyone) am still holding on and able to differenciate my "self" from others.
Now that it is established each individual is unique in some ways. Let us examine how we refer such self. In order to refer a self that is so unique, different, and thus inportant self, I personally employ this single letter, "I". I would not possibly assert that I know perfertly everything about myself. But, I can humbly tell you that it would be me who knows about myself better more than anyone in the world. With this self-recognition, I have enough knowledge and confidence to refer "my - self" as "I".
However, no matter how hard (although in reality everyone just take the use of "I" for granted) one should try to the level of self-recognition enabling oneself to call his or her self" as "I", I would not be only one using "I" to refer my ego: everyone in fact refers him/herself as "I". In some ways, do you not wonder about the possible hindrance upon your subjectivity and individuality? It is also true that while referring yourself as "I", you are losing the very notion of your "self" that is very critical and priceless. It seems to me I am giving up uniqueness and individuality, what is the result of long time self investigation and investment when using "I".
This type of concern and feeling of frustration do not last long. Instead, they are replaced by the thoughts that once again amaze me about humanity and myself. In fact, did I lose individuality? Or, am I not the person I was before? This is what's so profound--I (this applies to everyone) am still holding on and able to differenciate my "self" from others.
" no one, no 'person', says it: its source, its voice, is not the true place of the writing, which is reading."
Does So This Is subvert Barthes' statement or reinforce it?
I was shocked while watching So This Is by how often I felt like it was a narrated film. The voice in my head, though obviously my own, felt distinctly different. Doesn't the act of reading resurrect the author to a certain extent? Snow's voice--or my rendition of his voice--was so present in the film despite being silent. So This Is seemed to exhibit the opposite of Barthes' assertion--Snow hijacked my own voice and inner dialogue. By reading I was rendered useless, hypnotized.
Does So This Is subvert Barthes' statement or reinforce it?
I was shocked while watching So This Is by how often I felt like it was a narrated film. The voice in my head, though obviously my own, felt distinctly different. Doesn't the act of reading resurrect the author to a certain extent? Snow's voice--or my rendition of his voice--was so present in the film despite being silent. So This Is seemed to exhibit the opposite of Barthes' assertion--Snow hijacked my own voice and inner dialogue. By reading I was rendered useless, hypnotized.
Las Meninas
Foucault's essay on 'Las Meninas' primarily deals with the representations of the multiple subjects of the painting, and characterizes the hierarchy of figures based on the lines of their gazes and on lines of perspective. He delves into the relationships between the representation of the painter (Velasquez himself), the absent (King and Queen), the Infanta, and the spectators (both the man in the background and us as viewers). While Foucault's observations and arguments are astute, I think he fails to raise an important point in discussing the painting. He really only discusses a story created by the painting itself that is essentially fiction; he fails to discuss the fact that this representation was actually painted in real life, from real models other than the King and the Queen. Foucault speaks extensively on the represented painting (or at least the back of it) but we are left with the question: What about the process of creating the actual painting in front of us by the actual man himself?
Foucault speaks of two intersecting lines coming from the mirror and from the eyes of the Infanta, and that the true subject of the painting is the point where these lines cross, outside of the canvas. He says that this point can be occupied by the King and Queen, reflected in the mirror, and by the absent spectator. However, when creating the real painting, this point would have been occupied by Velasquez. This leads me to believe that the true subject of the painting is the painter and his process.
The Demonstrative Pronoun
I think “So Is This” underlined Benveniste’s assertion that speech is as worthy of study as language. Out of curiosity, I attempted to count the number of times “this” appeared on the screen and came out with a number in the ballpark of 130-140 (though I’m sure I missed some and counted others twice, so this approximation is pretty rough). The film occasionally tripped me up with the constant use of “this,” as I wasn’t always aware of what “this” was referring to in context; “this” of course doesn’t always allude to the same referent, and therefore its meaning is in essence dependent on the words around it. Benveniste ties this into the importance of speech and discourse, saying that demonstrative pronouns and their importance “will be measured by the nature of the problem they serve to solve, which is none other than that of intersubjective communication.” (Benveniste 219)
This is also why I found the choice to display each word of the film one frame at a time interesting. “This” might rely on the surrounding words of the sentence and paragraphs to give it meaning, but it’s simultaneously divided from them by the film’s structure. All words, including “this,” are kept distinct from each other by means of this technique, but “this” must always be referring to some other word or concept that has come before it because it has no fixed meaning. The discourse between the words and the audience members is what imbues “this” with meaning because, despite the fact that it stands alone on each frame, the referent is vital to its meaning.
This is also why I found the choice to display each word of the film one frame at a time interesting. “This” might rely on the surrounding words of the sentence and paragraphs to give it meaning, but it’s simultaneously divided from them by the film’s structure. All words, including “this,” are kept distinct from each other by means of this technique, but “this” must always be referring to some other word or concept that has come before it because it has no fixed meaning. The discourse between the words and the audience members is what imbues “this” with meaning because, despite the fact that it stands alone on each frame, the referent is vital to its meaning.
Double(nesse)s
1/One
“The spectacle he is observing is thus doubly invisible.” (Foucault, 4)
“The mirror (…) allows us to see, in the center of the canvas, what in the painting is of necessity doubly invisible.”
“A reflection [that] (…) restores, as if by magic, what is lacking in every gaze: in the painter’s, the model, which his represented double is duplicating over there in the picture: that is, an ideal point in relation to what is represented, but a perfectly real one too, since it is also the starting-point that makes the representation possible.” (Foucault, 15)
What is the notion of “representation” – or, more accurately, of “representation in its pure form” (Foucault, 16) – that Foucault operates with?
In the lecture today, Prof. Doane suggested that Foucault is engaging with the Classical concept of representation as resemblance, as the negotiation of likeness and difference. Taking into consideration the (frequent) use of the term “double” in “Las Meninas”, however, I would suggest that an account of representation as “the process of double(nesse)s/double(nesse)s in process” is equally valid and perhaps more fruitful in its implications. In his essay about The Uncanny, Freud claimed that the double(ness) is a source of the uncanny. I would argue that, in the case under scrutiny (Foucault’s discussion in “Las Meninas”), (representation as) double(nesse)s is a source of fascinating paradoxes.
Along with the direct presence of the word “double” (and in its adverbial form) in the text, the “double” is also indirectly present in “Las Meninas” through the use and discussion of the mirror. Intriguingly, the painter (he who maneuvers – and supposedly understands – the mechanism of representation, in this case) is not captured in the reflection in the mirror – even though he is interposed between the representation on the canvas and its reflection/representation in the mirror. His double remains an absence. This suggests, in my view, that representation “in its purest form” (in the mirror) presupposes a co-existence in the moment of both the present and the absent, undoing in a sense the logical principle of non-identity which asserts that an X cannot be and not be at the same time. On this account, the represented both is and is not in the system of representation (Foucault posits an exterior point along a sagittal plane to the painting that the painter, the spectator, and the subject matter (the royal figures, in Las Meninas) occupy). These double(nesse)s turn the represented and representation into a great unknown, expanding thus the space of (their) meaning infinitely.
2/Two
What is the relationship between representation and language? Is language representation as double(nesse)s?
I find the idea of language as representation of the world particularly fascinating. A model of language, thought, and the world as isomorphic structures – as proposed by Wittgenstein – seems most compelling to me. Such a model involves a necessary double(ness) that maintains the interdependence of language, thought, and the world that Saussure postulates while allowing for an autonomy of the three which – even if illusory – opens a space of freedom and agency.
3/Three
(How) Does representation as double(nesse)s operate in language?
In my view, language/ the act of engaging in language produces a double subject: the present subject that is being represented in language, and the absent (from the system) one that represents itself in language. These two are inseparable – like two sides of a sheet of paper – just like Saussure’s signifier and signified. (This idea is perhaps somewhat similar to Lacan’s account of the split subject. The difference lies, however, in that in the model I am proposing, the double subjects are co-present, whereas for Lacan the real “self” (for want of a more appropriate word) ceases to exist with the entry into language/the symbolic. I believe that such a model would enable a rescue of the self while maintaining some of the major tenets of the Saussurian theory of language and of those derived from it.
4/Four
Barthes’ s proclamation of the “death of the Author” entails, I would argue, a paradox, a double(ness). On one hand, it acknowledges – in the same line with Saussure – that language is not (merely) a tool: it is relational, active, and inescapable; it “sometimes has a life of its own” (Catherine Belsey). On the other, it opens up the space of signification/meaning, thus empowering the reader-subjects (a move that, I would argue, is not new: in a sense, though in a very different context, Protestantism argued for a similar opening of the space of meaning when it proclaimed that individual readers should/could turn to the Bible themselves and derive meaning from it). This tension is, I believe, irresolvable, yet (or precisely because of this) worthy of inquiry.
“The spectacle he is observing is thus doubly invisible.” (Foucault, 4)
“The mirror (…) allows us to see, in the center of the canvas, what in the painting is of necessity doubly invisible.”
“A reflection [that] (…) restores, as if by magic, what is lacking in every gaze: in the painter’s, the model, which his represented double is duplicating over there in the picture: that is, an ideal point in relation to what is represented, but a perfectly real one too, since it is also the starting-point that makes the representation possible.” (Foucault, 15)
What is the notion of “representation” – or, more accurately, of “representation in its pure form” (Foucault, 16) – that Foucault operates with?
In the lecture today, Prof. Doane suggested that Foucault is engaging with the Classical concept of representation as resemblance, as the negotiation of likeness and difference. Taking into consideration the (frequent) use of the term “double” in “Las Meninas”, however, I would suggest that an account of representation as “the process of double(nesse)s/double(nesse)s in process” is equally valid and perhaps more fruitful in its implications. In his essay about The Uncanny, Freud claimed that the double(ness) is a source of the uncanny. I would argue that, in the case under scrutiny (Foucault’s discussion in “Las Meninas”), (representation as) double(nesse)s is a source of fascinating paradoxes.
Along with the direct presence of the word “double” (and in its adverbial form) in the text, the “double” is also indirectly present in “Las Meninas” through the use and discussion of the mirror. Intriguingly, the painter (he who maneuvers – and supposedly understands – the mechanism of representation, in this case) is not captured in the reflection in the mirror – even though he is interposed between the representation on the canvas and its reflection/representation in the mirror. His double remains an absence. This suggests, in my view, that representation “in its purest form” (in the mirror) presupposes a co-existence in the moment of both the present and the absent, undoing in a sense the logical principle of non-identity which asserts that an X cannot be and not be at the same time. On this account, the represented both is and is not in the system of representation (Foucault posits an exterior point along a sagittal plane to the painting that the painter, the spectator, and the subject matter (the royal figures, in Las Meninas) occupy). These double(nesse)s turn the represented and representation into a great unknown, expanding thus the space of (their) meaning infinitely.
2/Two
What is the relationship between representation and language? Is language representation as double(nesse)s?
I find the idea of language as representation of the world particularly fascinating. A model of language, thought, and the world as isomorphic structures – as proposed by Wittgenstein – seems most compelling to me. Such a model involves a necessary double(ness) that maintains the interdependence of language, thought, and the world that Saussure postulates while allowing for an autonomy of the three which – even if illusory – opens a space of freedom and agency.
3/Three
(How) Does representation as double(nesse)s operate in language?
In my view, language/ the act of engaging in language produces a double subject: the present subject that is being represented in language, and the absent (from the system) one that represents itself in language. These two are inseparable – like two sides of a sheet of paper – just like Saussure’s signifier and signified. (This idea is perhaps somewhat similar to Lacan’s account of the split subject. The difference lies, however, in that in the model I am proposing, the double subjects are co-present, whereas for Lacan the real “self” (for want of a more appropriate word) ceases to exist with the entry into language/the symbolic. I believe that such a model would enable a rescue of the self while maintaining some of the major tenets of the Saussurian theory of language and of those derived from it.
4/Four
Barthes’ s proclamation of the “death of the Author” entails, I would argue, a paradox, a double(ness). On one hand, it acknowledges – in the same line with Saussure – that language is not (merely) a tool: it is relational, active, and inescapable; it “sometimes has a life of its own” (Catherine Belsey). On the other, it opens up the space of signification/meaning, thus empowering the reader-subjects (a move that, I would argue, is not new: in a sense, though in a very different context, Protestantism argued for a similar opening of the space of meaning when it proclaimed that individual readers should/could turn to the Bible themselves and derive meaning from it). This tension is, I believe, irresolvable, yet (or precisely because of this) worthy of inquiry.
Las Meninas, Representation, and Saussure's Necessary Absence
"The painter is looking, his face turned slightly and his head leaning towards one shoulder. He is staring at a point to which, even though it is invisible, we, the spectators, can easily assign an object, since it is we, ourselves, who are that point: our bodies, our faces, our eyes," (Foucault 4).
Giving "Las Meninas" another look over in light of Professor Doane's lecture today brings to mind questions about our current epistemic situation and the media that comprise and reinforce it.
Foucault's re-presentation of Velazquez's re-presentation of representation says a lot to me about language, especially having just read Saussure. The systems of language and representation/epistemology (or whatever we can call what Foucault is outlining, in part, in "Las Meninas") have an interesting, necessary, and familiar relationship with presence and absence. I gather this is because both systems are dependent on semiology, and symbols with fixed meanings can't be universal.
Anyway, the invisible point mentioned in my opening quote is something I see used in contemporary advertising, both in print and on television. The invisible point traverses the internal space of the ad, and thus the advertiser's or product's subjective space, with the external space of the solicited observer. Advertising iconography and rhetoric is tailored to include certain "mirrors" just like in "Las Meninas" which serve to call us (I hesitate to say "interpellate us"--I don't know enough about Althusser or Lacan to go there) as subjects in the ads.
It's easy for this mirroring to sound manipulative, especially with respect to advertising, but it is also essential to communication in general. With no other around, I could not communicate (that is, "I" could not communicate with any "not-I" were there none in existence).
Giving "Las Meninas" another look over in light of Professor Doane's lecture today brings to mind questions about our current epistemic situation and the media that comprise and reinforce it.
Foucault's re-presentation of Velazquez's re-presentation of representation says a lot to me about language, especially having just read Saussure. The systems of language and representation/epistemology (or whatever we can call what Foucault is outlining, in part, in "Las Meninas") have an interesting, necessary, and familiar relationship with presence and absence. I gather this is because both systems are dependent on semiology, and symbols with fixed meanings can't be universal.
Anyway, the invisible point mentioned in my opening quote is something I see used in contemporary advertising, both in print and on television. The invisible point traverses the internal space of the ad, and thus the advertiser's or product's subjective space, with the external space of the solicited observer. Advertising iconography and rhetoric is tailored to include certain "mirrors" just like in "Las Meninas" which serve to call us (I hesitate to say "interpellate us"--I don't know enough about Althusser or Lacan to go there) as subjects in the ads.
It's easy for this mirroring to sound manipulative, especially with respect to advertising, but it is also essential to communication in general. With no other around, I could not communicate (that is, "I" could not communicate with any "not-I" were there none in existence).
"so is this"
I guess I'll start the posting off.
I found the film "So Is This" to be very intriguing way to illustrate Saussure's linguistic sign concept. While the string of words composing White's film did not have sounds attached to them, the fact that these signs are "sound-images" requires no sound for our senses to "hear" the psychological imprint of the sound and connect that to the concept. Saussure notes that this is possible due to the fact that we can "talk" to ourselves without moving our lips or tongue, but rather by "recit[ing] mentally a selection of verse" (66).
So while no sound was in the film, I personally was able to see the word, "hear" the imprint of the sound-image and connect that to a concept in my own head. I was having a dialogue of sorts with the film, laughing at points when jokes were made etc. which I believe achieved the point White was attempting to make.
I found the film "So Is This" to be very intriguing way to illustrate Saussure's linguistic sign concept. While the string of words composing White's film did not have sounds attached to them, the fact that these signs are "sound-images" requires no sound for our senses to "hear" the psychological imprint of the sound and connect that to the concept. Saussure notes that this is possible due to the fact that we can "talk" to ourselves without moving our lips or tongue, but rather by "recit[ing] mentally a selection of verse" (66).
So while no sound was in the film, I personally was able to see the word, "hear" the imprint of the sound-image and connect that to a concept in my own head. I was having a dialogue of sorts with the film, laughing at points when jokes were made etc. which I believe achieved the point White was attempting to make.
Monday, February 2, 2009
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