Archive for January, 2007
As a Star Trek: The Next Generation fan, Saussure’s “assimilation” grabbed my attention. Trekkies know this term well, thus, I refer to Star Trek for two reasons:
a.) First and foremost, Captain Picard’s superior intelligence is WAY sexier than Captain Kirk’s overactive libido
2.) and probably far more applicable to Saussure’s theory is this: The Borg Collective, arch enemy of Picard’s individuality, expands and grows through assimilation, much like Saussure’s definition of language.
Saussure says language is developed by society as a whole, employing a collection of conventions adopted by the social body. It is then assimilated through speech into the mind of an individual. Dude, the Borg would totally love this concept. But geographical dialects, institutional influence, Ethnology? These would be surely be assimilated, stomped on and disregarded?too. Speech? Sure, the Borg?use it, but not because it is “an individual and wilful act.”I guess the Borg aren’t much for literary theory.
So, the question is posed: Can speech exist without language? Saussure thinks no, although the two?certainly influence each other. But can language exist without speech? I think yes.? – Who cares what Saussure thinks (although he said it first). I am an individual. I WILL NOT BE ASSIMILATED. I have spoken! – Speech, like sign language, is just?an expression?of ideas through signifiers. This certainly begs the question of whether we have a natural instinct to use vocal chords rather than our hands to communicate, although Saussure says that’s only a secondary consideration. Linguistics doesn’t deal with that. Linguistics deals with tracing ALL manifestations of human speech, and when it can’t be studied aurally, texts are used to uncover the history.
Sadly, as the Borg have departed from this theory, I too must go. But stay tuned! After a word from our sponsor, I’ll be right back to spout more ridiculisciousness. (<- There. I just influenced language, although technically this only happens if you assimilates the word into your own vocabulary and influence the societal whole.)
PS: The last time I visited Border’s, I noticed the staff’s new little ear thingies used to communicate with other employees. I asked the guy behind the counter if this was part of the Borg Collective. Rather irritated, he was sure to tell me, “No. I am perfectly capable of thinking on my own.”
The Borg never did have a sense of humor.
How ridiculiscious.

‘IT’
In terms of defining literature, what the heck is ‘it’ anyway???(From what I gather, it’s certainly not?San Francisco’s?Original Ice Cream Treat.) Raymond Williams’?use of?the term ‘it’ in reference to literature,?complete with single quotes for emphasis on?pages 1568 and 1573 of the excerpt from Marxism and Literature, seems quite relevant to his argument that?’it’ has been rendered inatimate rather than a living, breathing organism.
As?Williams explains,?literature’s broad beginnings in the 14th Century?referred to?both the ability and act of reading. Since then,?the meaning has been hacked, chiseled and vastly narrowed through time. By the 19th Century?”literature” pertains to the highly specialized reading and printing of the social elite.?Reducing literature to “formal composition within the social and formal properties of language” (1568), is the utmost abstraction.?
William’s certainly pooh-poohs this constraint.?To be specialized in such an ideological way leaves little room for outside criticism.?Who could do it??Never the elite! In doing so, they would?destroy the?very structure?which allows their?exclusive access.?Thus “criticism” as the practice of faultfinding devolved into the “exercise of ‘taste’, ‘sensibility’ and ‘discrimination.’” (1570)?By?noting this abuse of categorization and abstraction, and abstraction’s power to distill?literature into sterility, Williams believes ‘it’ becomes less than a living, breathing thing.
Marxist criticism stretched the concept of tradition, giving literature to all people by including pop culture. Then there was the reconstitution of bourgeois social practice. Without challenging the practice in it’s own right, social history?was widened to include “conceptions of ‘the people’, ‘the language’, and ‘the nation’.” (1573)?
So what was born from Marxist criticism? Ray thinks that democratization or putting literature in the hands of “the people” again brought it to life in new ways. Everything from the State of the Union to smiley’s on the Internet have become forms of literature. No longer limited to print, technology has been an historical development that, once again, helped to shift?literature’s meaning back to something full of life as an ever growing and changing entity.
TANGENT: When I think reconstitution, bourgeois social practice or otherwise,?I think?orange juice. To my spoiled ass it doesn’t taste as good as fresh squeezed, it’s cheaper and widely available, but?it does make?me ask questions like, “How do they?take water out? And how does it get back in? What makes it taste different afterward? What’s the point?” …And then?I drink it anyway because it’s the new technology in orange juice and it satisfies my thirst.
AS FOR DELEUZU AND GUATTARI’S RHIZOMES
I am all about these little tubers. I love to plant?peonies, ferns, and dahlias and have?suffered invasions?from hostile bamboo. When peonies eventually grow beyond?their boundaries, I dig them up, divide their carpeting mass of bulbous material, and replant the smaller?hunks in new places. This is not always an easy task as the mass can be a mess. This system is not as cut and dried as that of a tree, which is what makes it so relavent.
We’re taught early on about seeds and trees. Roots grow down. Shoots grow up. End of story. As Deleuze and Guattari point out, there are limitations when applying this cliche to the analysis of literature. Rhizomes are not limited to this up and down movement. They grow up, down,?left, right?and on every possible diagonal. One bulbous center produces willy nilly outcrops of root strands and shoots that criss-cross and jut out at random. Choas, yes.?Still, the?central orb?is important to the theory as it ” is by no means an average; on the contrary, it is where things pick up speed” (1609). The tree analogy provides no pulpy?center, no central? and multiple plateaus. A tree just doesn’t cut it.
Clearly, the rhizome analogy makes?far more sense when applied to the ways in which literature can be approached. The multitudinous lines of study?stemming from?one body (wO- “without organs”) of work is, quite possibly,?infinite.
PREFACE (a state of unenlightenment)
In reading around the class blogs, I’m relieved to see the difficulty others are experiencing with the reading and expressing far more gracefully than I have here.
While?reading Bakhtin’s?”Discourse?in the Novel”?I can’t help but question if this guy ever stepped away from?a desk?to smell a frickin’ flower. I’m pretty sure the answer is no. It’s a shame, for my sake, that he didn’t smoke more of his?notebooks.
This stuff runs deeper than in-depth. Spending 7 pages to say what his theory is not has?left too few brainwaves unoccupied to?receive information about?what the hell this grand theory is. Only snippets have been revealed in contrast to previous theoretical failures of traditional linguistics, stylistics and literary theory thus far. As I have read out loud in an attempt to gain comprehension, I’m pretty sure my house plant coughed “bullshit”?under it’s breath. I wasn’t sure if it disagreed with the pre 1920′s limited assessment of prose or Bakhtin’s?concept of stylistic uniqueness as comprised of subordinate stylistic unities. I took a moment to appreciate the foliage, breathe?in the greenery, and reluctantly resume study. Perhaps I should try reading this in its original Russian.
“C’mon, ya whimp. You can do this.” – Bakhtin
POST FACE
(And as Buddha said, “Sit yer ass down. It will come.”)
I think Bakhtin is on to something here.?He says to me, “Kim, there is far more to a novel than just rhetoric. Language isn’t some?normative medium used to communicate uniform ideas. It’s not?some level playing field…
Language is alive, man!
It’s ALIVE!”
— Seriously, Bakhtin develops some respectable and revolutionary ideas surrounding the author’s art. He skates right past Eliot?into a world?where personality is incorporated on multiple levels?as evident?from?the author, dialogue between characters and even from?the language itself. Rather than the traditional approach of?unifying the diversity in art, something Bakhtin obviously abhors,?he prefers that we?celebrate?our creative differences.
We must stylistically identify and?credit the author’s skillful and intentional molding of ideas?through their?employment of?living, breathing and ever evolving words.?By working with dialogue, characters come to life through the creative development of their speech. An author must constantly choose?language, dialect, situational and generational conversation.?Even when that choice is not conscious in an?intellectual sense,?selections are drawn from the author’s ingrained understanding of language. These choices artfully capture?and develop meaning within one’s work. It is in this way that?time is immortalized and no longer fleeting,?and social nuances of an era are able to be studied?far into the future. ?
I also see a strong similarity between Eliot and Bakhtin. Each believes in an “elastic environment”?where the influence of?style?moves forward impacting all that comes?after it,?as it also shifts interpretation of the past. This is evident when Bakhtin says:
The living utterance, having taken meaning and shape at a particular? historical moment in a socially specific environment, cannot fail to brush up against thousands of living dialogic threads, woven by socio-ideological consciousness around the given? object of an utterance; it cannot fail to become an active participant in social dialogue. After all, the utterance arises out of this dialogue as a continuation of it and as a rejoinder to it – it does not approach the object from the sidelines. (1202)
Suffering from?emphysema, I doubt Bakhtin played?sports or even endeavored to read the above?passage out loud. Still, he champions the direct (rather than sideline)?influence?of socio-ideologic consciousness. Unfortunately, not much recognition of this consiousness was ever attributed to?the creator. Instead, the reader is?lauded for their participatory role of?understanding. Traditionalists. What bastards.
I do have to wonder how much ink?Bakhtin was toking when he?envisioned an atmosphere?filled with?alien words and a?spectral dispersion?of colors defining their many facets.?Using Madonna’s “Ray of Light” approach to?definition can mean only one thing.?They each have?a special affinity for sparkling objects.
BAKHTIN AND MADONNA:
Clubbing a European Techno Scene Near You…
I first decided to study English because, in high school, I was interested in little else. I would receive 100′s in the subject, particularly in the area of creative writing,?while history, math?and science were earning?less than mediocre marks. Naively, when it came to choosing a college major, I thought?English was an easy out, a cheat of sorts, something I had already “excelled” at.?(See the very naive Kim sitting at her “word processor” at SUNY Fredonia, October 1988.)
As an adult, I now realize that while I?enjoyed the escape of literature and?a creative use of language, this was no cheat. There was something intriguing within the pages beyond the story, something?worth paying attention to, and the call was real. I simply couldn’t identify it, nor did I stick with it long enough to discover what that call was. Still, it has lingered all these years, enough to make me consider revisiting?a formal English education?in my mid-thirties.
Most of my high school teachers sought to bring English to life with their selections. Tolkein’s The Hobbit, King’s?Different Seasons, and Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind were on our reading list. Still, when my peers groaned through?Beowulf and Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, I enjoyed them all. At the college level, I remember little and skipped often. There might be a correlation there.?Determined to get through the major without taking Shakespeare just to see if it was possible,?I was instead introduced, in depth, to Chaucer’s life, humor and influence on language. It was fascinating. It helped too that my professor was a bit crazy… a white-haired?woman never without her enormous, floppy,?purple?velvet hat. Through it all, theory was never discussed.
As a returning student, until last semester’s Intro to Lit class, I was unable to define what made literature worthy of study. I used to determine the worth of a book by how it made me feel and how it related to my life. This definition fell short when, as?varied as my life has been, a story was nothing like my own and yet I still found it?to be “good.” It wasn’t until I learned about abstract?thinking that I appreciated reading critically, interpreting, dialoging with the text and other critics.?Suddenly, I was moved beyond the mechanics of a story or the author’s history and into a world of contexts and meanings that came from beyond the text itself. With little experience in theory,?I have only had the opportunity to cover?Shakespeare’s The Tempest (he finally caught up?with me) and Morrison’s Beloved. I have?had a brief?overview of New Criticism, Postcolonialism, and Feminism.?My?limited experience with these “isms” introduced me to a whole new realm in which I still have much to learn.
Great.
Blogging.?
One more?addiction for?my OCD.
From?our?brief introductions in class, I’ll bet you know?my face?from the?graphic. Still, I’ve added some personal details about myself, appropriately?under “Behind the Blog.” Perhaps you can draw new associations?to me…?other than?my stories about high power airline toilets.






