Music Lessons

In my survey class recently, we were reading some of the great Romantic poems ("Ode to a Nightingale," "To Autumn," "The Eolian Harp," etc.) and reflecting on the fact that music is so often figured as the path to insight for the major Romantic poets. This reminded me of a quote by the composer/musician Daniel Barenboim that I've always particularly liked: "Music provides the possibility, on the one hand, to escape from life and, on the other hand, to understand it much better than in many other disciplines." Do you agree with that latter claim, especially, I wonder? It's easy to buy into the part about escape (how many of us turn to the ipods when our airplane hits some turbulence, for example, or when we need to unwind after a taxing day, or when we need to keep ourselves motivated during a workout, etc.), but in what sense do you think music helps us to understand life better? Somehow answering that question might help us to anticipate how Jackie Kay's particular emphases in Trumpet help us situate the novel's argument in the broader scope of this class. Does listening to music (or playing music), for example, make us more ethical (and if so, how does that work)?

More on Roots and Routes

Just a bit of a postscript regarding Clifford's essay, which appeared in 1994, I believe. I think the questions he raises are vitally important (especially for our pursuits in this class), and they're immediate and direct: "What is at stake, politically and intellectually, in contemporary invocations of diaspora"? This is especially pertinent given that diasporic consciousness and positions so often get articulated (in largely salutary ways) by academics, theorists, writers, artists, etc. What happens when we nearly start to celebrate the condition of exile? What responsibility do we have as participants in literary studies, in a class like this one, etc., to keep this discourse rooted in historical and cultural specificity? If any of you end up pursuing inquiry along these lines (perhaps in conjunction with a study of the origins and trajectories of one or more of the characters we'll encounter in the fiction), you might check out Caren Kaplan's essay "Traveling Theorists: Cosmopolitan Diasporas," which I'm pretty sure I have up on e-reserve (having intended at one point to put it on the schedule); in fact, the book in which this chapter appears, Questions of Travel: Postmodern Discourses of Displacement is fabulous and useful, reminding us in myriad ways that "all displacements are not the same." Also relevant in this constellation, I think, would be Rushdie's essay "Imaginary Homelands," Pico Iyer's travel book/essay The Global Soul, and Rajagopalan Radhakrishnan's essay "Postcoloniality and the Boundaries of Identity" (can't remember where this essay appears, but it's a good one).

Going back for a minute

Returning for a brief minute to Bhabha (I know, I know), and his "less than one and double": I think this statement particularly references John Stuart Mill's utilitarian premise of "each to count as one and only as one," and asserts that this principle cannot hold true in colonial discourse due to the very nature of that discourse. Roy identifies Bhabha's statement that the "less than one" occurs at the moment of colonial enunciation; I read this as saying that by addressing the colonized as such, the colonizer reinforces their position as having a lesser voice, as being subservient, as not equal:

"Western imperialist discourse continually puts under erasure the civil state, as the colonial text emerges uncertainly within its narrative of progress." (Sly Civility 97)

This seems to provide a basis for the 'doubling' effect of address; on a textual level, the colonialist writes "we are equal," on the subtextual level (which Bhabha references) the colonialist writes "we are master:" or phrased another way, "you possess autonomy as such/we are stripping you of your autonomy." Bhabha seems to be taking a shot at the Utilitarian arguments appropriated to support colonialist intentions, and pointing out the problem of colonial discourse with respect to utilitarian ethics. I think Bhabha might rewrite the Mill's creed to say something more along the lines of "each to count as one and only as one, with the exception of colonial states, in which case the British Empire counts for two and only two."

Fictive Ethnicities in Online Games & Virtual Worlds

I found this podcast because, well, I'm a huge geek and I spend my free time reading articles on video game theory. I found it particularly relevant in relation to mimicry and Bhaba's 'sly civility' especially when Pearce discusses the so-called 'Uru Refugees' modding other game worlds to resemble their 'homeland'. In a post-structuralist milieu - where identity becomes dissociated from race, culture, and nation of origin - I think it's interesting to consider the ways in which a people find commonality and community in the most unlikely of relations (in this case: defunct video games). I'll post an abstract and notes, if ya'll are interested.

-Jim

Before We Get Too Far Away From Bhabha

Hey, I just wanted to post some of the key concepts from “Sly Civility” before we move away from Bhabha. The idea of unisonance or the “contemporaneous cultural cohesion connection its national subjects through the undifferentiated simultaneity of an aural imaginary” remains paramount to Bhabha’s discussion of the place of text and speech in the broader colonial discourse. He continues to argue that one of the signs of civility is a group of individuals engaged in spirited public discussion, connecting their opinions of government with those of others. Later in the essay, Bhabha clarifies that this public voice must emanate from truly democratic representatives of the people and not from members of a service trained by the government to represent a people. A system, operated by the government, with the purpose of forming representatives of a people creates an irony of reference and erases “all that is taken as second nature within Western civility.” The process of recordation facilitates this irony of reference by deconstructing the natural link between democracy and discussion. A text, written for the purpose of conducting government, becomes an object that transcends both temporal and territorial boundaries. It creates a sort of intermediate authority which serves only to widen the gap between the Colonizer and the Colonized. Bhabha identifies this concept as the syntax of deferral and insists that it is a “colonial temporality and textuality of that space between enunciation and address.” The emergent problems associated with a written text as a form of government provide the origin of colonial miscognition. Within the process of appropriation and forced segregation between Colonizer and Colonized, both entities assume a sort of perverted form of unity. They are faced with the prospect of adopting two identities, one pertaining to the single unit of empire, and the other, a retention of original identity eg “democrat and despot, individual and servant, native and child.” Bhabha centers this discussion around the idea of less than one and double. He maintains that “the position of authority is alienated at the point of civil enunciation – less than liberty, in Mill’s case – and doubles at the point of colonialist address.” He seems to establish a parallel between the gaps of speaking and writing, and confused identities.
These concepts were just the ones that struck me as particularly important. My thoughts and explanations are by no means comprehensive and if anyone would like to modify or add to them…please do.

Dissociation

One of the particularly striking passages from the first section of Londoners is the scene in which Galahad talks to his hand and blames "Black" for all of his problems, the pain and the frustration he experiences. He personifies the color black in his mind as a seperate identity, dissociating himself from it at the same time; does this amount to a claim that he is 'not black,' that black in fact is a form of 'other'? The pain of isolation/alienation drives Galahad to his 'theory'; by implication, this might also be seen as a metaphoric reference to 'non-white' identity and the dilemma it encounters. Are displaced/alienated cultural identities forced to negotiate their displacement/diaspora via dissociation with integral elements of identity (be they cultural, personal, spiritual, etc.)? There seems to be the implicit suggest that this is indeed the case.

Straggling thoughts on mimicry and Wide Sargasso Sea

- Bhabha's language and argumentation point to the idea that the colonial discourse is, by design, self-undermining. The very need on the part of colonialist identity (and therefore discourse) for 'other' defines a need for similarity, but not sameness; indeed, 'other' would not be other in the absence of difference from the 'self' (in this case, the Empire). In the end, this need for a 'similar differentness,' and a perceived unification that supposes to follow, becomes the thing that destabilizes the identity of the colonizer.

- In a metaphoric sense Rochester's actions illustrate the problem of mimicry/assimilation. Rochester's attempts to reform/re-present Antoinette/Bertha create growing problems for him. I'm not sure how you read his success in controlling Antoinette/Bertha; while he does succeed in subduing her, she burns down the mansion - not on her home soil, but in his England, which suggests that on some level she possesses the power to invade and affect his space. Depending on how you interpret Rochester's character in terms of metaphor, this seems hugely significant.

- Rochester also finds himself sandwiched in between Antoinette's narratives in parts one and three. He dominates the middle section of the novel, but the first and last words belong to Antoinette/Bertha

- In a more general sense, the novel as a whole transgresses conventional approaches to the English novel and literary traditions. For instance, Rhys writes an English novel that presents the black, non-English Christophine as the obeah woman endued with a knowledge and power which the English cannot understand or possess. The novel relies upon similarities with traditional 'British' literature, while at the same time defining significant differences, and thereby referring back to the notion of mimicry.

The Looking-Glass of the "Third Space"

Ambivalence, caught somewhere between the pedagogical and the performative aspects of national identity, is a concept that is transferrable to other aspects of identity not necessarily bound up within nationalism. Bhabha's discussion of metaphor and metonymy appropriately winds its way into the liminalities of language, as language and discourse being contingent on metaphor and metonymy in identity formation. The ambivalent space between the pedagogical aspects of language (perhaps direct, literal translation?) and the performative aspects of translation (perhaps what is lost or destroyed in the imperfect "breaching" of language barriers) uses similar concepts within the context of nationalism.

In this conceptual context, it becomes clear that Antionette is a victim of cultural cross-pollination that has thrust her in an ambivalent state of being. A white Creole, she has assimilated to a colonial lifestyle that mimics British conventions-- "that is almost, but not quite," British-- and is used to both a position of white privelege and also a deep affinity for a place so "wild and lonely" as "Rochester" puts it. It is no wonder that, without a looking glass in her attic asylum in what we can only assume is England, she "doesn't know what [she] is like now" (Rhys 107). The stark desolation of beautiful island life is eradicated as well as the priveleged, psuedo-plantation lifestyle, and has been displaced by a dark, dank attic in which time no longer matters. It is no accident that this dual existence, though crumbling from the beginning of Rhys' novella, was nonetheless a tangible affirmation of a dual identity. This identity eradicated, Antionette, like Christophine, doesn't believe they are in England because she cannot see it, just as Christophine never had. Neither Antionette nor Christophine had any part of their identity vested in England and pure Englishness; rather, their identities, polarized by skin color, were nonetheless closely centered by the ambivalent hybridization of culture. They closely circle a center of identity which, in the end, is wrested from Antoinette and is replaced with "the cardboard house" of England.

What I'm wondering, however, is what fate Christophine experiences. The white presence she is subserviently tied to for the majority of her life now gone, she disappears from the story as if she only exists as the Other within white subjectivity and narrative. What is her fate to be as she retires to her shanty, or hut? I still hold firm to my belief that Rhys wished to write exclusively from a white subjectivity and therefore is not ignoring/ doing a disservice to the oppressed and subjugated blacks of post-colonial times.

Obama Bhabha

Greetings, everyone, on this suddenly sunny Sunday. Anything that Zadie Smith writes would be news-worthy for this class, but you might find her recent lecture/article, "Speaking in Tongues," to be particularly relevant at this moment given that you're doing battle with Homi Bhabha's prose and coming to an understanding of hybridity theory. This article not only features some passages that are obviously germane to our discussions and course contexts, but it very interestingly depicts the new American president as a practitioner of the Third Space. See her description of "Dream City," and her rich assemblage of suggestive phrases and notions: multiplicity, complicated back stories, messy histories, crossing borders, multiple narratives, cultural contingency, plural selves. "Flexibility of voice," she concludes, "leads to a flexibility in all things."

Becoming Sea-worthy

We have a big day ahead of us in that Parts I and II of Wide Sargasso Sea will be before us. Chadha's film on Wednesday emphasized fusions and hybrids in the context of cultural productions and individual/collective identities, ideas we can certainly think about as we discuss Rhys and her novel. Rhys, of course, was a white Creole from Dominica, which makes her part of an important transnational, multiracial category, and provides challenges to the basic notions of identity (challenges which are experienced by Antoinette/Bertha in her own ways in the novel). Rhys also represents problems of classification in that she's often designated a "British woman writer." As someone has written, how can the creator of Christophine be sincerely British? In any event, I've already given you a broad question or two to think about as you read Part II, but thinking back to Part I it seems there's still plenty of details to discuss: the significance of the parrot? Mr. Mason's attitudes about race, his wife, island politics, etc.? Antoinette's dream? The garden imagery?

Regarding other matters, I'm hoping that those of you who have yet to post a comment about Bhabha's "DissemiNation" will still do so by clicking on the comments link below Matt's posting. I have provided some information about the research review paper via a link on the website's schedule page; I'll try to give you some kind of a sample review essay, too, so that you can get some sense of how to go about structuring the paper. I was also asked about mkaing some of the quotes from the powerpoint slides available to you; I'll try to gather them (along with other miscellaneous quotes that gather around our reading and discussions as we proceed) on a new quotables page. I've also updated the website's bibliography page, and will continue to do so in the coming days/weeks (maybe an intriguing title there will set you on your way with your research review paper). Finally, you may have noticed Katie's suggestions for apprehending a copy of McLiam Wilson's novel, Eureka Street: she directed you to half.com and to alibris.