Walter Benjamin and Shepard Fairey

As I read this week’s reading, I couldn’t help but think of Shepard Fairey and his “HOPE” piece on Obama as I read Benjamin’s The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. It was interesting to read about Benjamin’s perception on the origins and value of art and how they “are received and valued on different planes. Two polar types stand out: with one, the accent of cult value, the exhibition value of art work” (1237). As arts is viewed by the masses, the value shifts to a more commodified form, and subsequently away from the “magical” value that was emphasized in more prehistoric times. As this distancing of values widen, and “with emancipation of the various art practices from ritual go increasing opportunities for the exhibition of their products” (1238). The word that hit me here was the use of “products” and how it disenchants the idea of art and artistic expression, and cheapens it to a factory form. Art is no loger seen as a documentation of humanity, or even a material circumstance at best, but is created for conspicuous consumption that is perpetuated by the elite.

The most influential piece of pop art that immediately popped into my head as I read this was Shepard Fairey’s Obama “HOPE” piece (which has been thought of as Andy Warhol meets Social Realism) that was absolutely instrumental in the campaigning techniques for this past election. Shepard Fairey, who started out as a street artist and skateboard designer (famous obey line and Andre the Giant—thought as a guerilla artist), created an iconic art piece that was mass produced, replicated and even parodied. This propaganda piece appeals to those who frequent the Lenisits critisim approach to art: art that is explicitly committed to the political cause of the time. Ironically enough, Shepard’s gear was for the liberal side, whereas Lenin outlawed such liberal views in the 1934 and direct control over literature and art was exerted. (Barry) Even though Shepard Fairey is attempting to move away from his celebrity status and has created breath-taking pieces that reflect his guerilla roots, he will never be viewed again as a cult or even a cultural artist, but rather will be remembered for his propaganda image and a “sell out” by his pre-Obama followers.

As the purpose art continues to drift away from the ritual, the more art is able to be reproduced. “Instead of being based on ritual, it begins to be based on another practice—politics” (1237).

Phallolocentrism in Entertainment

As I read the Barry section on Feminist Criticism, the section that stuck out the most would have to be the section concerning language. The idea behind this section is a discussion on gender oriented language and it’s restraints on women writers “so that when a woman turns to novel writing she finds that there is ‘no common sentence ready for her to use’” (Barry 121). This male-oriented language creates a bias in the medium which effectively disables the female writer from expressing herself in an unrestrained fashion. These constructs perpetuate gender bias language and impedes female expression.

This bias doesn’t only exist in literature or other genres of writing, but gender variation language has been a recent subject of interest in the field of sociolinguistics concerning oral communication and entertainment forums (eg: cartoons, sitcoms, etc.) In The Study of Language by George Yule, he discusses current findings on such studies in contemporary English concerning “male and female talk”. He found when analyzing dialogue between genders that:

“[t]here is a pattern documented in American English social contexts of women co-operating and seeking connection in language, whereas men are more competitive and concerned with power via language. In mixed-gender pairs having conversations, the rate men interrupt women is substantially greater than in reverse. Women are reported to use more expressions associated with tentativeness, such as ‘hedges’ (sort of, kind of) and ‘tags’ (isn’t it?, don’t you?), when expressing an opinion: Well, em, I think that golf is kind of boring, don’t you?” (Yule, 2002, 242).

So, although we currently are in the “3rd wave feminism” movement, the focus of gynocentrics seems to be dominated on literature (at least on what we read in Barry for this week), it seems to me that focus should also be split to re-evaluate other mediums, specifically media: television and programs aimed at the youth that perpetuate such phallolocentrism ideologies. If such mediums are overlooked, then the "mechanics of patriarchy" will continue and female traits will be determined by cultural and social constructs of America.

Determinist Marxism for some . . . miniature Liberal Marxism flags for others!

Although Marxists share the same baseline of thought when it comes to literary criticism, “that a writer’s class and prevailing ideology have a major bearing on what is written by a member of that class”, I was unaware of the division between Determinist Marxism and Liberal Marxism in the context of gauging how much social, political, and economic variables influence writers. (Barry 152) Determinists, according to Barry, believe that art is a passive product of socio-economic forces while the “liberal-line” believes that these forces are much more distant and subtle. Jameson argues that political interpretation of literary texts are not “some supplementary method [. . .] but rather [functions] as the absolute horizon of all reading and all interpretation” (On Interpretation 181).

This hermeneutic view of cultural literature made me reevaluate readings of some canonized texts that are taught in the secondary classroom, and I came to realize that, in some degree, this rings true. Almost all science fiction can be seen as social criticisms (Fahrenheit 451, 1984, even the commercialized Halo series), Shakespeare wrote his plays in response to political, social, and economic commentary (Macbeth, The Merchant of Venice, Julius Caesar), the Beats rebelled against the country’s ideology and literary practices of the time (broke away from traditional conventions of subject matter, religion, syntax and prescriptive grammar). I bring up these specific pieces up only because they are on the curriculum I teach at the high school level.

Although poetry seems to be autonomous from this hermeneutic view (a genre that is popularly thought of as individualized expression) inspiration for such pieces can be traced back to socio-economic or political strife if the reader digs deep enough.

Now, I understand that this is a huge generalization, and I know that many will refute this, but I believe if we put enough effort and research behind any major literary piece, we could find some degree of social, political or economic context. So, I can agree to some extent with Jameson on his “On Interpretation”, that “[t]he only effective liberation from such constraints begins with the recognition that there is nothing that is not social and historical” to some degree. (183) So, depending on the text, I can rationalized taking a determinist stance on some works (like Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle) or the liberal-line approach (Ezra Pound’s “In a Station of the Metro”) depending on genre and piece that is being interpreted.

Latter-Day Platonism

What intrigued me the most about Barry’s reading on Post-Modernism was Bauldrillard’s theory of “hyper-reality” and its parallels to Plato’s Cave. This illusion and misrepresentation of ‘objective reality’ was articulated as a response to electronic media in the 1980s and its nature to blur the lines between reality and illusion. These gilded representations create a fabricated mood, tone, attitude and abstraction for an individual who becomes bombarded with fragmented experiences and interpretations. The production speed of these images creates a distanced reality composed of images and experiences devoid of depth and truth of basic reality. This idea of Bauldrillard’s simulacrum creates emptiness because the surface value of images collapses reality and makes it hard to distinguish it from simulation. This concept reminds me of today’s youth and their reliance on electronic media.

In such a technologically advanced society, the younger generation is born into a wealth of simulated reality. With the popularity of role-playing games, interactive media, social internet sites, reality television and the jaw-dropping speed of innovative technology, it is almost impossible for individuals to distinguish between basic and simulated reality. This distancing also creates a malsocialized generation terrified of human interaction (which, as a teacher, is a frightening peek of humanity in the not-so-distant future.

What social, political and historical ramifications may result as this generation takes the helm?

I Like Me Some Barthes

In the past few discussions we have had in class, the main focus on theory seems to have revolved around the text and the author: specifically their socio-political, literary-historical, and autobiographical context. The argument of “the critic” also arose concerning their authority and overall place in theory and criticism. I have been wondering why the reader was never a point of focus during this discussing. (Yeah diagrams!) Although I posed the question, it was never really discussed; however, now that we have moved onto post-structuralism, I feel that it is appropriate to discuss in light of the introduction of Roland Barthes in this week’s reading.

When Barthes published his essay, “The Death of an Author” in 1968, he helped create a significant shift in the way theorist perceived the idea of authority. In previous theory, text value was often associated with the author, context, and intention of the piece when the dreaded critic assessed the piece’s worth and integrity. On the other hand, Barthes view in early post-structuralism in regards to his essay, he “makes a declaration of radical textual independence: the work is not determined by intention, or context. Rather, the text is free by its very nature of all such restraints” (Barry 63-64). This figurative death of the author shifted theorists their view from the author's intention to the reader: it is the reader that produces the text instead of the author creating it. This reader-centered approach by Barthes in the early phases of post-structuralism captures an authentic purpose of literterture and the experience that it creates for individual readers.

Now, just like we discussed concerning Quintilian, several new theories and pedagogical “innovations” existed long before their termed publications; it is simply re-packaged for modern times. Although Reader Response Theory was practiced since 1937 by Louise Rosenblatt in the pedagogical realm, it did not gain its popularity in literature or pedagogy until the 70s. In her 1938 publication, Literature as Exploration, she remarks on literature as an “event” rather than a static text:

The special meaning, and more particularly, the submerged associations that these words and images have for the individual reader will largely determine what the work communicates to him. The reader brings to the work personality traits, memories of past events, present needs and preoccupations, a particular mood of the moment, and a particular physical condition. These and many other elements in a never-to-be-duplicated combination determine his response to the peculiar contribution of the text. (pp. 30-31)

In short, reader response theory reject the New Criticism which assume that the texts themselves were central, and that instructors were to teach the skills of close-reading while suppressing—the expression of and attention to—differences in students' own individual responses. Then in the late 60s and early 70's there occurred a paradigm shift in the teaching of literature away from viewing the text as authority, to a view that focuses on the reader's relationship and experience with text.

So I ask, what is the point of literature? Why do we write it? To get judged, critiqued, labeled? Or is it a form of expression or entertainment? If we cannot agree on the function of literature, then how can we assess it?

Sometimes I Like My Eggs, Sometimes I Want the Chicken

After reading Barry’s sections for this week’s reading, I am now evaluating how I interpret a text: do I lean towards liberal humanism or towards Structuralism? In the metacognitive stint, I realized that I am a little bit of both depending on the piece of literature, specifically the genre. I like my eggs when it comes to poetry because I feel, personally, that the genre is more of a therapeutic device in the aspect of composition and interpretation (reader-centered). If I read the author’s background, researched the events that helped create the work, or read other poems created by an author as a collective work, then my interpretation may be more scripted and artificial because the context will influence my reading. The “organic” and untainted freedoms are gone because ‘close-reading’ is not implemented. So the idea that “[t]he literary text contain its own meaning within itself” in the genre of poetry sits nicely with me (Barry 17). I feel that the broad genre of poetry relates more to human nature (in its essence form) due to the ‘soul’ of the concept, as opposed, perhaps , to non-fiction. Pouring over too much of the external context can pave a path that you necessarily don’t want to follow.

On the other hand, when it comes to such literary genres as science fiction, I lean towards Structuralism when considering the interpretation of the piece. Science fiction can be read both in isolation (which brings more of an entertainment element to the piece) and in context; but it is the contextual interpretation and understanding of a text can be deepened by the socio-political context in which it was written. One of the main characteristics of science fiction is based around social criticism (this can be seen in such Bradbury pieces) and if a reader desires to deepen their understanding beyond the “surface-text”, they need to be knowledgeable about a number of external contextual elements. For example, they should be familiar with the characteristics of the genre (the voyage, sciences, technology, etc.) so they can evaluate the author’s decisions and motivations. They should also be familiar with the historical aspects (the socio-political) of McCarthyism to better comprehend the themes presented in the work. Autobiographical information may also help shape interpretation if they become familiar with the author’s life and his/her involvement in politics, literature, or other institutions that may give him aretē. I guess, in this respect of the science fiction genre, structuralism may be more beneficial for the reader in their understanding of the “larger picture”, instead of the liberal humanism isolation approach. I agree with Lévi-Srauss , in regards to certain literary genres, that some pieces should be approached by understanding that the “individual” piece of literature “from a cycle of” texts composed by an author may not “have a separate and inherent meaning but could only be understood by considering its position in the whole cycle” (Barry 45). So, depending on the genre, I may like my eggs or I may prefer the chicken.

All the world's a stage . . .

Finally, we find someone who writes against the idea Vir Bonus that we have been discussing in class for the past two weeks. Trebizond, in his Rhetoricorum libre quinque, goes against Quintilian’s belief and declares that: “devoid of the requirement that the orator be a good man, in the moral sense. Rhetoric was, rather, a pragmatic political art indifferent to morality” (Conley 115). After reading the rest of Conley’s section devoted to Trebizond, I was not surprised that this man made such a statement, considering his was not a moral man himself (seeing that he did not credit Hermogenes, Cicero or Quintilan for several structural and cornerstone points of rhetoric) Ah, but ambition can corrupt a man, and the truth surfaced after his death as these ancient texts became more available to Greek Rhetorics due to Manuizo printing spree.

What struck me most about the Conley excerpt above was the word “art”. Not once in the past three weeks have I equated rhetoric to art—perhaps I formulated this idea due to the prescriptive nature of rhetoricians in our previous readings. Now, after mulling over this disequilibrium, I do agree with this concept that rhetoric can be considered an artistic endeavor. What is art? Is it a material medium? Do we classify art as “things” we can hang in a gallery or display on our wall? Is it scrap-metal contorted into a twisted image? A splattering of paint and sweat? A performance that we witness in the seats of a theatre? Pieces that can only be seen in antiseptic museums? The Oxford dictionary (yes, I am giving you the cliché definition plug) defines art as, “the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance.” Isn’t the art of rhetoric just that? the aesthetic expression of making a position appealing? Even beautiful to the ears, like Dionysius believed. Philodemus raised this question in his peri rhetirikēs and questions, “[C]an [rhetoric] legitimately be called and art; and on this subject Philodemus take the position that on kind of rhetoric, ‘sophist’ may qualify, but not others, such as courtroom or political rhetoric” (Conley 44). I believe that even the courtroom and political rhetoric can be considered artistic in the realm of delivery: with its orator gestures, facial expressions, body language and vocal tone performances that are taught to persuade the auditor. Augustine, in his De Doctrina Christiana, stresses in Book 4, that “the preacher should adapt his style to both his aim and his audience” and through his style “we wish not only to make ourselves understood, but even enjoyed” (Matsen 360 & 375). This “enjoyment” that the rhetorician wished to bestow upon his audience strike closely to the chords of entertainment—isn’t that what art does? entertain? Mesmerize? Captivate? Inspire?

. . .And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,”
As You Like It (II, vii, 139–143)

As we stray from the courtroom and political forum, and begin to cross the threshold of religious rhetoric, I begin to see how rhetoric can be considered art, and even theatrical (Gorgias). Trebizond believed that being a good orator (not a good man) could not be simply taught, but innate talent and intellect help create the ideal orator. Every successful artists must be talented to some degree; if not, then they are probably not very successful in their practiced field. The manipulation of an audience takes a great deal of talent and the success of an orator is based on his “performance”. I believe you have to have to be an intelligent, well practiced, well educated, quick, have the ability to improvise and charm the audience, and be a bit of an actor in order to be a successful orator. Rhetoric can be seen as an “art” with these considerations.

As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart.
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might.
O, let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
-Shakespeare, Sonnet 23

(This is for Tony and Scott =)