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El origen perdido

domingo, 2 de septiembre de 2012

El origen perdido

Me leo la novela de Matilde Asensi El origen perdido (2003) que se vende como "un homenaje al poder de la palabra" con un fascinante argumento sobre la búsqueda de los orígenes de la humanidad...

...—y que resulta un infumable batiburrillo baratillo de mitología, fantasía estereotipada y pseudociencia de lo más irritante: hackers, incas perdidos, extraterrestres, creacionismo, antidarwinismo, lenguaje mágico... Lamentable combinación resulta: pura ficción gratuita, de la que desacredita a la ficción como acercamiento serio, o siquiera imaginativo, a ciertas cuestiones. Hasta el mapa de Piri Reis sale, que no oía hablar de él desde los años setenta. Está bien para Tintín, pero no para una novela que busque un entretenimiento mínimamente capaz de merecer atención. Mitología que nos remonta a diseñadores extraterrestres y a una diosa creadora. Como en Prometheus, vamos—hay gente que lo de la evolución y los australopitecos lo lleva muy mal, y prefiere enviados de las estrellas, el mito de siempre que supuestamente nos dignifica. Pero no es digno tropezar siempre en esta piedra, cuando hemos desarrollado un cerebro para algo. ¿Para niños? No, es una pésima influencia educativa. Pero es que también falla como relato: la ciencia mal utilizada trabaja en contra del interés narrativo, y la novela se va haciendo pedazos conforme avanza, con los personajes repitiendo como verdades penetrantes las más torpes objeciones al evolucionismo. No vale la pena comentar más. Busquen el origen por otra parte, aquí está perdidísimo.

El origen del lenguaje y de la humanidad
 


Comentario sobre la auténtica grandeza

martes, 28 de agosto de 2012

Comentario Sobre la Auténtica Grandeza

Este es un comentario de F. Storr y C. H. Gibson al ensayo de Francis Bacon "Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms and States", y versa sobre el progreso y la evolución social—sobre el desarrollo de la civilización y el perfeccionamiento de las sociedades humanas. Un tema de interés, a mitad de camino entre la sociobiología evolutiva, la teoría de la historia, y la filosofía política. Aparece en una oscura edición escolar de los ensayos de Bacon, publicada hace más de ciento veinticinco años, en 1885 (Bacon's Essays, with Introduction, Annotations, Notes and Indexes by F. Storr, B. A., Chief Master of Modern Subjects at Merchant Taylor's School and C. H. Gibson, M. A., Assistant Master at Merchant Taylor's Schools. Third edition. London: Longmans, Green & Co. and New York: 15 East 16th Street, 1891). Lo republico aquí no como comentario al ensayo de Bacon, pues más bien es un excurso alternativo, sino como muestra del altísimo nivel intelectual de los editores en el contexto del pensamiento de la época, y más en concreto como muestra del impacto y eficacia que tuvo el evolucionismo de Spencer como instrumento para la comprensión intelectual de los más diversos aspectos de la realidad. En concreto, obsérvese cómo aparece aquí anticipada la idea central de la sociobiología actual sobre la adaptación activa del entorno, y la construcción de nichos ecológicos. Se reconoce también, por supuesto, el aire victoriano de época, y el ideal optimista sobre el progreso de una era de expansión imperial, comercial e industrial británica, de una cultura que se veía avanzar hacia la racionalidad, la ilustración y la democracia, a través del esfuerzo colectivo, la ética del trabajo, la educación, la organización de los procesos, y el respeto de los individuos al ideal colectivo de la nación: respeto a la tradición, pero reforma gradual y constante de las costumbres y las instituciones. Ese optimismo hoy podemos mirarlo casi con nostalgia y envidia—pero quizá deberíamos aprender más de una cosa de estos constructivos y decimonónicos victorianos, antes que darlos por definitivamente finiquitados. Añado enlaces relevantes donde parece oportuno.



Of True Greatness: Annotations and Hints

"All nature widens upwards. Evermore
    The simpler essence lower lies.
More complex is more perfect, owning more
    Discourse, more widely wise."

i. The Latin title of this Essay is "de proferendis imperii finibus." To Bacon, national greatness is synonymous with expansion by conquest. It is the highest excellence of states as well as of individuals (1), to profess arms. All other conditions of national prosperity, as we understand the term, are subordinate to war. Bacon must be judged by his own times, and by his literary antecedents. The ancients conceived the progress of science, but both to antiquity and mediaevalism, national progress was limited by the number of worlds to conquer. Bacon, in the Advancement (2) and Novum Organum (3), speaks enthusiastically of the advance of knowledge, though he says too much about "cycles" as opposed to continuous advance, and is too sanguine about "royal roads" to learning, and the possibility of a universal encyclopaedia. As to national greatness, he believed in the necessity of constant war, and in 1607, spoke strongly in the House of Commons in favour of a spirited war policy ; contrasting the imperial schemes of Spain with the "reckonings and audits" of Britain. Here Bacon is certainly not in advance of his own times. As a philosopher, he was the radical reformer of antiquity, and as a statesman, he might have advocated, instead of barely tolerating, the industrial spirit. There were many clear signs that the military spirit was passing away, but such prescience is hardly to be looked for in an Elizabethan statesman. France and Spain each regarded England as the prize and prey of the victor. The policy of both the Cecils, Bacon's uncle and cousin, was to play off one power against the other, and at the same time to stand prepared for an attack from either side.

    ii. Progress is a modern idea. The march of humanity onwards and upwards, was but dimply perceived before the present century. Aristotle conceived of gradual ascent of matter to form, and by his doctrine of "potential existence," foreshadowed the great law of evolution. But in Greece, the commonly received idea of national life was that various forms of government succeeded one another in a cycle. Experience bore this out, and further taught that destruction, rather than progress, was to be expected. Further, the Greeks considered infinity of the nature of evil ; all that is good is finite and measurable. The spreading power of Rome, especially during the early empire, suggested the idea of a world civilized by Roman influences, but the final lesson was that overgrown power falls to pieces. The Romans never conceived progress except as the gradual absorption of the world by Roman civilization which was ex hypothesi perfect.

     iii. Mediaeval thought was on the lines of antiquity. Besides, in the Middle Ages, men only saw falling kingdoms, and a shifting chaos of military supremacies, rather than well-defined national divisions. The Church, too, distinctly opposed the idea of human perfectibility. The reaction of Luther only turned men to see more clearly their own moral and spiritual degradation (4). The great discoveries of the Elizabethan age were but germs of future greatness. Even the outburst of literary life was short-lived, and seemed to pale before that of Greece and Rome. As late as the seventeenth century, it was thought necessary to prove, as Bishop Hakewill did, that man had not degenerated.

     iv. Vico, who lived from 1668 to 1743, first grasped intelligently the idea of progress. According to him, there are two sorts of progress. "That of nations from insignificance, passing through a period of greatness to insignificance, and that of humanity, the march of one that advances and never recedes." This progress is from the restraint of physical force, nulle terre sans seigneur, to the free obedience of rational beings to reason. The flaw in Vico's proposition is that he conceives that nations necessarily flourish and decay, and that, as long as a nation holds the foremost place in the world, its history is the history of humanity. This is not the case: all grow together at different rates of speed as parts of a great whole.

     v. Though Vico undoubtedly understood the problem of progressive history, the comparative method, which regards each phase of existence as a stepping-stone to something higher, was not conceived either by the philosophic or the popular mind in the eighteenth century. Viewed from the standpoint of evolution, progress is an infinite series of ever-increasing complexity, in which each lower factor is contained in that next above it. The two ideas which dominated the eighteenth century, were the immediate perfectibility of man, and the degradation of society. Some looked forward to a model state which existed only in imagination ; others looked back to a golden age of primitive simplicity. In some cases the tendencies were purely destructive ; existing institutions were absolutely to be destroyed. But most thought that humanity was perfectible, and preached the doctrine of an iron present, and a golden future. Doctrinaires had to learn again that utopias are vanity, humanity imperfect, and that nature nihil facit per saltum.

   
vi. In the nineteenth century we find the gradual rise of the comparative treatment of all branches of human knowledge applied to the phenomena of human progress. German thought, led by Hegel, with his "philosophy of history," and Goethe's "life of plants," first developed the idea to practical results. In the non-mechanical sciences, wich deals with things in process of development, the question to be asked is not "What is it and what are its antecedents now?" but, "How did this grow and to what is it growing?" In other words, the growth of causes, "crescente variables," have to be investigated. The attention is fixed solely on the increasing cause, and its law or series is determined as nearly as possible. Such a law is a law of progress, and progress is consciously realized only in so far as definite results have been obtained. Hitherto we have got plenty of laws, but many of them are hypothetical and want verification and filling up. More is required than a blank formula often vague and unsatisfying. So thought has been derived from sensation, through ideas or remembered sensation ; abstract language from onomatopoeia, and interjections definitely and consciously attached to sensations. In the case of man, the "crescent variable" is reason. Progress is convertible with the growth of reason. The end of man is to do his own proper work in the best possible way. The greater the number of men who do so, the greater and more real the progress. The better the work, the more it is in accordance with reason. Reason may be defined as the faculty by which we conceive ends, and consciously adapt means to such ends. The growth of plants and animals is through instinctive adaptation to their environment. Man consciously modifies his own surroundings, as well as adapts himself to them.

    vii. Freedom to develop and opportunities for development are primary necessities. Enfranchisement and education must precede as well as follow progress. Monopolies, class privileges, standing armies, go hand in hand with ignorance. The man who has no responsibilities has no aspirations. Originality tends to heterodoxy and rebellion against authority. Science and literature subject to the requirements of sacerdotalism and despotism can attempt no daring flights.

    viii. Though reason is a crescent variable capable of infinite development from within, there are stationary elements such as climate, food, geographical position, and language, which cannot completely be eliminated. The ethiopian cannot change his skin, and human agency can but sligthly modify physical surroundings.

    ix. In describing progress in terms of reason, the growth of morality and religion as well as of material advance, can be equally recognized. In assuming that the world becomes more rational, it is not to be supposed that it becomes less moral, but rather that the claims of morality are more and more realized by reason, and that religion is brought into closer harmony with reason. The higher the morality, the more rational. "Kill nobody," is better wisdom than "kill not ta member of your tribe," and is at the same time more moral (5). We need not fall into Mr. Buckle's mistake of supposing that morality is stationary, reason progressive.

    x. No man can do everything. Each does one thing best. Civilization tends towards specialization. At first the same man is warrior, hunter, artisan,—a jack-of-all-trades. As things increase in complexity there is a tendency to separate off one individual or class for each work. The highest stage is when the differentiated products become so special as to be severally incapable of performing the other's work. Further, every new differentiation implies increase of population. The better a man does his own work the greater his dependence on the good work of others. Every new discovery specializes, and at the same time draws men together. Printing, gunpowder, steam, railways, emphasize all pre-existing differences, create new ones, and make all more dependent on the functions of others. And further, each specialization of any class ipso facto produces organic changes which lead to the specialization of other classes. As music improves, dancing and singing improve. As the eye sees better, the hand grows better fitted for its own work. The danger of specialization is the loss of spontaneity and many-sidedness.

    xi. The great truth of specialization of functions, leads to a difficulty. If the Puritan and popular standpoint is correct, and if every man can be his own prophet, priest, and king, progress depends in a great measure on the way in which every man applies for himself the principles of morality, religion, and government, to the business of life. But if, on the other hand, morality, government, and religion get more complex, and are lost sight of in the fierce rush of worldly pursuits and the engrossing claims of self-love, then more than ever men will need the great moralist, preacher, and statesman, who will point out the truth, and disentangle the principles of true life from the tangled web of competition and pleasure. Laissez faire, may be as obstructive as over-government. Leaving the social organism to run wild is not necessarily giving it room to develop. (Y aquí es donde se separan más los autores, con buen criterio, de la perspectiva hiper-liberal de Spencer).

    xii. Laws of progress are only rough generalizations of tendencies. Modern thought suffers from insisting too strongly on the analogy between social and other organism, between the life of plants and of men. We can read the past only in outline, the future is a sealed book. It is not possible to forecast how far this or that nation will have advanced within a specific period. Herbert Spencer's great law is "Evolution is a process or progression from the simple homogeneous to the complex heterogeneous by continuous differentiation and integration." Or differently expressed, "All progress is through stages—unity, plurality, singularity." Humboldt says that "the end of government is the development of man in the greatest originality and variety possible." Matthew Arnold would have more "culture," a vague and ideal formula. Mill insists on the necessity of representative institutions—an engine, not an end. Comte expresses the history of humanity by three stages—the theological, metaphysical, and positive. "History," says Hegel, "is the embodiment of reason carried out through the imperfect medium of man's spirit." But the course of universal reason is either obscured or contradicted by exceptions, so that it is hardly ever possible to predict the next step. The human mind is virtually a sealed book. The great man is an incalculable factor in the problem of progress. This is especially the case with scientific as opposed to social and political progress. We can roughly sum the series and isolate the phenomena in the past, and see in outline how reason develops, but neither the nation nor the individual repeats itself, and we can only hope for a more complete union of individual ends with universal reason. A perfect science of history is an ideal which fades as we move.

    xiii. Is progress a fact? There are always laudatores temporis acti, who sigh for a past that never was present. Most of us are one-sided, at the mercy of the strongest impression, and unable to look out of our life. In the present, evil seems actively predominant. Good seems ever liable to decay, except by constant watching and personal care.

"The evil that men do lives after them ;
The good is oft interrèd with their bones."
 


The future is hidden, the good of the past—de mortuis nil nisi bonum—is alone remembered, and encircled with a halo of virtue. Reverence and imagination lend to the past an illusory brightness. Further, there has been a tendency in the human mind, from the Preacher to Schopenhauer, to believe rather in present corruption than in future progress.

    xiv. Apart from the natural tendency to grumble, most reforms are attended by a certain loss. The Puritan movement was accomplished at the cost of much that was valuable in art, literature, and manners. On a comparison of the age of Elizabeth with that of the Protectorate, England, in spite of much material advance, will seem to have retrograded. Many see only retrogression in the decay of chivalry. Even feudalism is a valuable counterpoise to the worship of money. "Since the Reformation, the whole tendency of the world has been in an industrial direction." Progress is often obscured or diverted into one channel. Change is not progress (6), nor is freedom by itself. "Intellectual emancipation," says Goethe, "if it does not give us control over ourselves, is poisonous." The truest freedom is rational obedience to law, whether given from without or within. No one should be free till he knows how to obey.

    xv. There is a dark side of the picture. Increased machinery and wealth have hardly benefited the masses. There is a growing tendency to inequality of property. Monopolies are not dead. Adultreation is too strong for the law. The union of democracy with the Church is not impossible, but the tendency of democracy is to aim only at material prosperity. In giving all an opportunity of rising, there seems some danger of dragging down rather than moving up, and fewer are willing to hold subordinate positions. Government tends to become "a joint-stock concern for the practice of Thrift." Improved social machinery tends to destroy self-help. Artificial helps lessen the struggle for existence, withouth which there will be degeneracy; men must go forward or go back. Malthusianism only sees ground for hope in checking population, communism is wholesale robbery and retrogression. Further, the traditional and fundamental principles of religion, morality, and society are questioned as hardly ever before. The fearful propaganda of Nihilism daily warns us that we live on a volcano. There is a feverish craving for novelty and excitement. Agnosticism is openly preached as a creed, and the sovereignty of reason is appealed to by the irrational. The policy of "blood and iron" is triumphant on the continent. These and many other considerations suggest the question, "are we progressing?" Thus the doctrine of despair, taught by Schopenhauer, is echoed in countries which have less ground for pessimism than Germany (7): "To will, i.e. to live, is to suffer," will being the conscious application of force. The higher the civilization, the more consciously active, and, therefore, the more miserable is man. The only remedy is self-annihilation.

xvi. The vigorous mind will learn to look beyond. Pessimism argues a want of historical perspective. The pessimist ignores the comparative method, looks only at the present time, and only to some special phase of the present time. Then he rails, like Carlyle in his "Latter-day Pamphlets" (8), against democracy and all the first-born of Egypt. There is a shadow which saddens life, but a great mind may feel this without bewailing that the world is all out of joint. According to Leopardi, every stage of existence—science, culture, religion, commercial industry, and politics—wherein man seeks happiness, are all stages of illusion. Pessimism can never be a philosophy of life; it belongs to the effete dreamy Eastern character. In the East, life is a constant thirst and craving which is never satisfied. Pessimism may suit the lazy mysticism of Buddhism, but vanishes before the gospel of "act and you shall know." Asceticism is only another form of pessismism, a protest against nature. It is not healthy to dwell with too accurate diagnosis on national pathology. Men are too ready to prophesy evil and then wish to see their prophecies fulfilled. Further, the disorder and evils of transition are a necessary stage.

xvii. The belief in an infinite series of progress is almost a religion to the best minds. "Let us allow and believe," says Wordsworth, "that there is a progress of the species toward unattainable perfection; or whether this be so or not, that it is a necessity of a good and gifted nature to believe in it." "Kant, while arguing that past progress does not necessarily imply future progress, sees surer ground for advance in the enthusiastic sympathies, excited throughout Europe by the outbreak of the French Revolution" (9). The French Revolution was more successful as a destructive than a constructive movement. It swept away the abuses of feudalism and class-privilege. Its dreams of universal brotherhood, a federation of nations, and a reign of universal reason were not realized. Yet with all its illusions, and in spite of all its crimes, it promoted freedom of thought, which is the tap-root of civilization. Compare the whole world, as it is, with the world as it was, or even a novel of George Eliot with one of Fielding or Smollett, and doubts will be quieted. We may yet live to see the "parliament of man, the federation of the world." The idea of international law and national conscience steadily grows. In catching sight of the universal, there seems some danger of losing many of the lights and shades of individual progress ; but the race, as a whole, is advancing, in spite of back-eddies.

"Not in vain the distance beckons. Forward, forward let us range,
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change."


Goethe says that each man, like a star, should move restless but hasteless in his own sphere. For such there will be no more sickly questions whether "life is worth living."



____


(1) See Essay on Empire.
(2) Bk. ii, xxiv.
(3) i. cxxix.
(4) See Guesses at Truth, p. 313, et seqq.
(5) See Essay on Goodness and Goodness of Nature.
(6) See Essay on Innovation.
(7) See Sully's Pessimism, London, 1877.
(8) On The Present Time.
(9) Guesses at Truth.
[See also Essay on Innovation]



Consiliencia, evolución y anclaje narrativo

Novela de campus con atroz desmoche

viernes, 10 de agosto de 2012

Novela de campus con atroz desmoche

Muchas veces, ante los episodios más grotescos e inverosímiles con los que nos topamos en la Universidad, surge el comentario: "¡Esto es una novela de campus!"— que no hace falta escribirla porque se escribe sola. Pero es un error, siempre es mejor dejar constancia, la memoria es corta. Otras veces se ha rumoreado que si tal o cual profesor estaba escribiendo una novela de campus, para desquitarse bien de persecuciones abiertas o de mobbings de tono bajo, y poner los puntos sobre las íes con una serie de caricaturas fácilmente reconocibles. Pero lo cierto es que la novela de campus española no abunda, no. Antonio Orejudo cargando la tinta bien negra, ha escrito una al modo grotesco sin cortarse, Un momento de descanso, y en ella apunta algunas posibles razones:




Raquel Molina lo miró con resquemor, y al principio se negó a hablar de algo que había intentado olvidar durante años y que todavía le perturbaba. Cifuentes insistió y terminó ganándose su confianza cuando le dijo que su intención era escribir un libro sobre Desmoines titulado The Great Pretender, en el que además contaría la verdad sobre la universidad española. Entonces ella se echó a reír y le dijo que si contaba la verdad sobre Desmoines y sobre la universidad española, nadie le creería jamás.
—La universidad española, donde yo trabajé mucho tiempo antes de marcharme a Inglaterra, no sólo es mediocre y corrupta, es también inverosímil. ¿Nunca se ha parado a pensar por qué apenas se han escrito novelas de campus en español? Yo se lo voy a decir: porque es imposible escribir una novela sobre la universidad española que sea elegante y además verosímil. Lucky Jim, de Kingsley Amis, o Small World, de David Lodge, son tan buenas porque la universidad que toman de referencia, la anglosajona, conserva todavía unas formas impecables, auqnue por dentro esté consumida por las mismas corruptelas que la de aquí. En la universidad española por el contrario la grosería aparece tal cual, sin los ropajes de la buena educación. Una novela realista, cualquier libro sobre la universidad española, aunque sea un libro de investigación como el suyo, está condenado a convertirse en una astracanada. Los que no conocen el mundillo académico pensarán además que es inverosímil. Haga la prueba. Dele usted a una persona cualquiera el acta de una reunión de departamento, y no sólo pensará que usted se ha inventado ese documento; pensará también que ha perdido la cabeza. Yo por ejemplo nunca imaginé que aquella oposición pudiera resultar polémica. No pensé que pudiera haber discusión (...). Virgilio de pronto se puso serio y les dijo que el chaval joven que se presentaba era el candidato de la casa. Lo dijo a las bravas, sin ninguna sutileza, e intentó convencerlos de que la universidad necesitaba gente que estuviera empezando y no gente consagrada. Por tanto, lo que había que valorar no era un currículum ya hecho, sino un currículum por hacer. Un currículum-por-hacer. Parecía un concepto de Heidegger, pero no; era un concepto de Virgilio Desmoines. El rector intentó que la publicación de libros y artículos se considerara un demérito; intentó convencerlos de que una brillante trayectoria profesional era peor para la universidad que una inexistente trayectoria profesional. (154-55)
 


Y una de las razones de la arbitrariedad grotesca, la mediocridad rampante y el feudalismo ambiental es la herencia recibida del oportunismo y sectarismo salvaje la universidad franquista, en la que se criaron los viejos profesores:

Digo yo es que sospecho siempre del maniqueísmo.
 
Dice da igual que te moleste, Antonio. Tus sospechas son irrelevantes. Nos guste o no, en la historia de la guerra civil hubo buenos y hubo malos. Quizá se ha exagerado la bondad de los buenos y la maldad de los malos. Pero un problema de matiz no puede afectar al fondo de la cuestión. Y el fondo de la cuestión es que en la universidad española hubo profesores justos que fueron machacados por sus propios colegas, por sus discípulos, por verdaderos hijos de puta que se perpetuaron en el poder falsificando la historia. Te recomiendo un libro, El atroz desmoche, sobre la universidad española durante la guerra civil. Es un libro que sólo tiene datos contrastados, como los que te gustan a tí, pero te advierto que está lleno de republicanos buenos, buenísimos y de fascistas malos, malísimos, que destrozaron la universidad republicana, saturándola de una mediocridad que no desapareció con la Democracia, sino que fue apuntalada por penenes como Virgilio. Las cosas sucedieron así, te parezca o no maniqueo ese relato de los hechos. Y Augusto Desmoines es uno de esos mediocres que medraron aprovechándose de que España era un erial. Sé que es difícil para ti aceptar esto. También lo fue para mí aceptar que nuestro padrino es un impostor. (...)

El atroz desmoche, de Jaume Claret Miranda, demostraba que el franquismo no había infravalorado la universidad. Todo lo contrario: fue siempre muy consciente de su poder. Sus ideólogos entendieron perfectamente que en la tarea de aniquilar el germen republicano para siempre lo más importante era el complemento circunstancial. Para siempre. Y a ello se aplicaron con ahínco. La enconada persecución que sufrieron los profesores universitarios desafectos al Régimen no fue tanto una consecuencia del odio cuanto el resultado de un proyecto concebido con frialdad: la consolidación de un estado de anemia intelectual que sirviese de profilaxis ante el riesgo de futuras infecciones revolucionarias.

Este minucioso plan contó con la inestimable ayuda de los profesores más mediocres, que vieron en aquella sistemática aniquilación de la excelencia una oportunidad para ocupar cátedras, rectorados, decanatos y ministerios. La sinergia que se produjo entre los depuradores ideológicos y la chusma académica hizo que la universidad franquista fuera durante cuatro décadas una institución fantasma.

Los datos que presentaba Jaume Claret eran abrumadores. Decenas y decenas de brillantes trayectorias científicas truncadas por la envidia y la ignorancia violenta, catedráticos traicionados por algún discípulo resentido, excelentes profesores, investigadores de primera línea arruinados moral y económicamente por la envidia de algún oscuro colega.

A la luz de todas estas historias, relatadas en el libro con nombres y apellidos, se comprendía por qué la situación de la ciencia y de la universidad españolas era paupérrima. Nuestro raquitismo cultural, intelectual y científico no obedecía a un ciego y fatal designio del destino, sino al dictado consciente de quienes ganaron la guerra y a la incompetencia coadyutoria de los políticos que vinieron después. (175-6, 178-9)



Grave solución de continuidad

Tercera cultura en Un Momento de Descanso

martes, 7 de agosto de 2012

Tercera cultura en Un Momento de Descanso

Me estoy leyendo la divertida campus novel de Antonio Orejudo, Un momento de descanso (2011). El protagonista Cifuentes es un profesor español en USA, especialista en Pemán. Pero su mujer se echa un amante mucho más puesto en corrientes intelectuales contemporáneas. Cifuentes se siente un inútil total, a la hora de poner un enchufe o a la hora de entender cómo funciona el mundo, y siente que su concepción del mundo como una historia es ella misma una historieta. Aquí hay una crítica cruel a la concepción narrativística del mundo:

Pero el motivo principal de su malestar era que al lado de aquellos científicos, oyendo sus conversaciones, se sentía un ignorante y un impostor. Al contrario que la mayoría de los humanistas, que habían sepultado su curiosidad bajo un manto de desdén y que presumían de no leer ciencia, o de no entenderla, Cifuentes admiraba a aquellos físicos y neurobiólogos aficionados a la literatura y capaces de mantener una conversación de cierta profundidad sobre (pongamos por caso) los fundamentos del arte contemporáneo. ¿Qué colega suyo en el Departamento le podía decir siquiera cuáles eran los principios generales de la física cuántica? Y sin embargo, eran ellos, los pobres científicos, quienes tenían fama de incultos. Los humanistas habían sido más astutos y se habían apropiado del término intelectual. Pero si alguien usaba el intelecto eran aquellos hombres que además de dedicarse a su línea de investigación eran capaces de extraer conclusiones sobre (pongamos por caso) la vigencia del argumento literario a partir de (pongamos por caso) la variedad de especies encontrada en el yacimiento de fósiles cámbricos de Burgess Shale.
 
Los humanistas seguían empeñados en trabajar con textos. Textos que comentaban otros textos, que a su vez glosaban otros más remotos, en una espiral hacia arriba que les había hecho perder el contacto con el mundo empírico. Tenían una idea decorativa del mundo. Creían que todo era un relato, que el capitalismo era un relato, que las relaciones humanas eran relatos, que el supermercado era un relato, y se ponían a comentarlo. Sujeto, verbo y predicado. En cierto modo era conmovedor. Pero qué le vamos a hacer; era la única manera que tenían de comprender el mundo, convirtiéndolo todo en textos, en relatos, y luego aplicándole ese método de análisis que venía de la retórica romana.
 
Cuando aceptaran sin miedo, como él empezaba a hacer, que el mundo no tenía nada de texto, sino que era un flujo incoherente y contradictorio, desigual, desproporcionado, caprichoso, inmotivado y absurdo, sin ideas fuerza, con cabos sueltos, deshilachados, sin corrientes de sentido, con intereses contradictorios, sin centro ni márgenes, amorfo, hipertrofiado aquí, pero atrofiado más allá, cuando aceptaran eso, habrían empezado a comprender de verdad. Los humanistas, sus colegas, él mismo, todos ellos, que un día fueron la vanguardia del conocimiento, no tenían hoy nada que aportar al mundo. Por eso empleaban una jerga incomprensible y desdeñaban las exposiciones claras de los asuntos complejos. Huían de la claridad, porque sabían que la luz es la enemiga de la superchería.

—No creo que el estudio del arte o de la literatura sea una actividad estéril, Arturo. Al fin y al cabo, estudiar la literatura es estudiar un proceso del cerebro. A través de la literatura podeos rastrear la evolución del lenguaje, de los analizadores perceptivos y de sus reacciones estéticas. Podemos estudiar el progreso del razonamiento, del sentido moral, del amor, de la lealtad, de la rivalidad, del estatus y de las relaciones con los parientes y los semejantes. La cultura está formada por los descubrimientos que hemos hecho a lo largo del tiempo, pero también por las convenciones y las reglas que nos hemos impuesto para coordinar nuestros deseos con los deseos de los demás. Y todo eso se ve muy bien en la Literatura. Hay una cadena continua que va desde la biología a la cultura pasando por la psicología. No tiene sentido seguir pensando en términos de científicos por un lado y humanistas por otro. Hay que unificar la biología y la cultura en una ciencia de la mente y de la naturaleza humanas.

El autor de esta encendida defensa de una tercera cultura era naturalmente un científico, el futuro Premio Nobel—así se lo presentó Lib—Joseph Lelous, un hombre que sobre todas las cosas olía muy bien, a cuero y ámbar, con notas altas de bergamota y limón. (62-64)



Sale una foto del narrador con su colega Cifuentes cuando eran estudiantes, y parece talmente una foto mía en primero de carrera allá por el año 80—Orejudo anda por la misma generación, y su periplo americano fue más largo que el mío. Por suerte en mi Filología Inglesa la fiesta duró un tiempo más que en su Filología Hispánica:



(...)

Filología Hispánica aún no se había convertido en una carrera de saldo, aún no era la licenciatura de los que no pueden estudiar algo más serio por falta de capacidad o de nota media. Cuando nosotros entramos en la universidad, Filología Hispánica era todavía una disciplina en la que se matriculaban no sólo quienes no servían para las ciencias, sino también jóvenes de cierta cultura, chicos a los que les interesaban de verdad las letras, y que habían leído bastantes libros para su edad.

Las cosas ya no son así, el mundo cambia, ya lo sé. Pero no es eso lo que me asombra; lo que me maravilla es la velocidad con la que se produjo aquel cambio. Aunque más que un cambio, lo que hubo en la década de los ochenta del siglo pasado fue una inversión de valores que nos pilló a contrapié. Filología Hispánica, las humanidades en general, que todavía resultaban apetecibles cuando empezamos a estudiar, dejaron de ser sexys en menos de cinco años, antes de que termináramos la carrera.

En realidad el mundo había empezado a cambiar mucho antes. Antes incluso de que entráramos en la Universidad. Pero no nos dimos cuenta. No lo advertimos por ceguera y sobre todo por soberbia: nos sentíamos cómodamente instalados en un saber que no había sido cuestionado en cinco siglos y que iba a seguir vigente, estábamos seguros, al menos otros cinco siglos más. Yo, por ejemplo, quise estudiar literatura porque creía que las Humanidades seguían estando en el centro del conocimiento, y porque pensaba que hombres como Augusto Desmoines no podían estar equivocados. Pero no faltaban indicios de lo contrario. Otros, menos ciegos que yo o más humildes, los vieron y supieron interpretarlos. Lo que nadie imaginó fue la velocidad a la que se produjo aquella revolución. En menos de cinco años el estudio de la literatura, esa tarea a la que habíamos consagrado nuestros años universitarios, pasó de ser una prestigiosa ocupación cuya utilidad nadie cuestionaba a considerarse una disciplina inútil que sólo conducía a la frustración y al paro.

Cuando terminamos la carrera comprendimos que estábamos al margen. Recuerdo la lúgubre cena de fin de curso, y la sensación compartida de que nos habíamos equivocado, de que habíamos cursado unos estudios inútiles, sin contacto con ese mundo nuevo que empezaba a despertar. Quienes pudieron costearse otra carrera o ser mantenidos mientras estudiaban una oposición lo hicieron. Otros se marcharon al extranjero becados por el Ministerio de Educación o por alguna universidad. Y también hubo quien tuvo suerte y pudo repartir propaganda por los buzones o ser camarero o azafata. (97-98)




Otro aspecto satírico de la novela tiene que ver con la corrección política institucionalizada; este aspecto resulta algo más siniestro en lo que me recuerda al caso muy real de Antonio Calvo, profesor español en USA que se suicidó tras ser víctima de un montaje histérico muy parecido al que en esta novela le sucede a Cifuentes por ofender a una estudiante negra. Un caso que a su vez parecía calcado de la novela de Philip Roth The Human Stain. Si es que la literatura vale, como poco, para ver la vida que hay delante, y hasta para perfilarla.

El caso Antonio Calvo


Herederos del trauma

sábado, 4 de agosto de 2012

Herederos del trauma

De un ensayo que estoy leyendo sobre traumas y el concepto de post-memoria, para el Journal of English Studies:

Marianne Hirsch´s notion of postmemory deals with “a response of the second generation to the trauma of the first” ( “Surviving Images: Holocaust Photographs and the Work of Postmemory”. The Yale Journal of Criticism, 2001: 8). Her inquiry can be regarded as an attempt to account for the symptoms characteristic of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder manifested by children of Holocaust survivors. Consequently, employed to address the psychological syndromes transmitted from parent to offspring, this term provides a new analytical tool to approach the familial inheritance of collective traumas from one generation to the next.

Ver en la Wikipedia "Posttraumatic Stress Disorder" para una perspectiva general sobre síndromes post-traumáticos.

Supongo que la novela de Foer Everything Is Illuminated sería interesante leerla desde esta perspectiva. Y otras cosas más incredibly close, como las historias siempre mal resueltas de la guerra civil española y de las coerciones del franquismo. El intento de olvidar el pasado puede llevar, de maneras impredecibles, ya sea al olvido del pasado a a the return of the repressed, y a una sobreidentificación sorprendente con sus progenitores o sus ancestros, por parte de los herederos del trauma. Aunque vista la diferencia de reacciones por parte de estos herederos, quizá las causas de la sobreidentificación con los traumas de los ancestros haya que buscarlas precisamente en otros sitios, además de en los traumas de los ancestros.



Espectros de España por aquí

The Literary Work of Art (Roman Ingarden)





Notes from Roman Ingarden's book The Literary Work of Art: An Investigation on the Borderlines of Ontology, Logic, and Theory of Literature. With an Appendix on the Function of Language in the Theater.

Originally published as Das Literarische Kunstwerk: Eine Untersuchung aus dem Grenzgebiet der Ontologie, Logik und Literaturwissenschaft. Halle/Saale: Niemeyer, 1931. 3rd. ed.: Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1965. Translated with an introduction by George G. Grabowicz. Foreword by David Michael Levin. Evanston: Northwestern UP, 1973, rpt. 1986. lxxxxiii, 415 p. Notes taken c. 1987.



Foreword by David Michael Levin (xv-xliv)
An ontological-phenomenological approach to art. Does it have any invariant principles in it? —and xvii: "structures of consciousness in virtue of which this mode of being of the literary world is possible." Outline of phenomenological method: all acts of consciousness are directed towards an object (which need not exist physically —> it may be a merely intentional object). Real traits of act vs. logical features: (content, including fiction). Logical content includes the kind of object intended (perceptual, volitional), and also includes in what way (what aspects of) the object are made present to conssciousness. The mental act is not the same as the intended object. Each object can become the object of many intentional acts; it is transcendent with respect to the multiplicity of its logically possible correlative intentional acts. xix: "Furthermore, the transcencence of the object is such that it is never accessible in its absolute totality of properties." Each conjunction of properties is a noema. xx: "A system of noemata, then, constitutes the so-called intentional object." xx: "It follows from the essence of objectivity that one and the same object, given as something transcendent and ontologically distinct from all the conscious acts that intend it, cannot possibly reveal itself in the absolute plenitude of its virtual contexts and relationships". The description of the logical sense of an intentional act  must include a mention of the object (which), of the phenomenological kind of object (how, perceptual, linguistic...) and a description of the aspect component—which properties of the object concern the act. When no real object exists, "the intentional object is the temporally unified and the unifying transcendent pole of the various subjective intentional acts." The work of art as the material basis to the intersubjective intentional object. The literary work modulates the lived time of our consciousness, and it is (xxi) "a narrative form which is experienced as unfolding noematically in time."

Ingarden follows a purely phenomenological method. It is not evaluative or contextualizing or explanatory, it is purely descriptive. Other methods are valuable, but the phenomenological description is able to render its own special insights only by virtue of its adherence to a rigorous and exclusive method. [Intrinsic] study of the mode of being, properties, and mode of givenness of the literary work o art—> an ontology, but a phenomenologically accountable one.

As to literary genres, it is doubtful if a pure descriptive method wil provide clear-cut essences.

Physical existence of the book vs. the fictional world inside: author's sentences: intnetional acts directed upon nonexistent objects? (Etc.). Logical status of our belief in fiction, etc. xxvii: "In an excitingly fruitful way, his answer to the fundamental ontological question (is the literary work a physical thing, or is it, instead, something ideal?) cuts right across the traditional ontological dualism; and, in so doing, it helps us to understand just how, and why, we are strongly pulled in two apparently opposite directions whenever we try to resolve it."

1) Work itself vs. work concretized in acts of reading, and [vs. the process of reading].
2) It can also account for the "subjective" conditions of our access as conditioned by the objective work.
3) Theory of strata: hyle/morphe + founding acts/founded acts. xxviii: Cf. Husserl's Logical Investingations on speech acts. The work is a unity and a composite at once. Aristotle as the ultimate source [optimistic level-reading of Aristotle]. Strata: sounds, meaning, and imaginary world, schematic aspects and interpretation. —> The literary work belongs to a realm of ideal transcendence but requires an act of reading.

xxi: Structuralism neglects the structures and modalities of the aesthetic consciousness: it cannot show there the grounds of the structures it has discerned. Phenomenology: basis for an adequate critical theory (implicit in many critics) . Strata are not merely the foundation for one another: there are complex interrelationships, symbolic, etc. Mixing of levels, already from Plautus, etc. Chinese boxes referring ultimately to real aesthetic consciousness.  Nabokov's and Robbe-Grillet's toying with strata. Phrasing, etc., modalizes consciousness; literature gives rise to specific phenomenological experiences.


Translator's Introduction (xlv-lxx)

Ingarden has a reputation of abstruseness, and there is a tendency on the side of critics to simply his theses. Ingarden's answer was The Cognition of the Literary Workd of Art. In Ingarden, categories are "basic structures of real objects which kant considered to be subjective forms of the intellect, without, however, analyzing them more closely" (xlvii). Ingarden breaks with Husserl's idealism. The Literary Work of Art is "a first step in the direction of contrasting real and intentional objects (inthe Husserlian sense) on the basis of the fundamental difference in their formal structure".
xlix: On poetics: "Ingarden distinguishes, according to the aspect under which a work is studied and the mode of its cognition, the following subdivision in all knowledge and literature: (a) philosophy of literature (b) theory of literature, (c) literary scholarship, and (d) literary criticism. Poetics is the theory of artistic literature." li: Complains about the separation of studies of the "work" vs. studies of "aesthetic experience".

Influences. Debts to Husserl:
lii: "(1) The idea of a subjective system-forming operation and the distinction between a pure proposition and a judgement."
(2) the distinction between material and formal content of the nominal word meaning and the opposition of the full meaning of an isolated work and the syntactic elements which its meaning assumes in as sentence, and
(3) "the analysis of the constitution of a purely intentional objectivity in a manifold of connected sentences" (Ingarden's preface) ; also the problem of the mode of existence of objectivities in the work.

Precursors of the stratum concept: Kleiner and Conrad. But Kleiner was a psychologist and in Conrad few "sides", and the aesthetic object is an ideal object (Husserl). Ingarden's "orientational space" comes from Husserl. He acknowledges the embryonic state of structure theories in Aristotle and Lessing. In Lessing , three strata, Ingarden's  represented objects, aspects, and word sounds. "Meaning units, which for Ingarden form the basic constitutent stratum are ignored in their structural and aesthetic role and are seen merely as the means for representing objects". He discusses Aristotle's Poetics and major contemporary theories of the work: Formalist, Objectivist, Kleiner's, and his own. Basic questions: 1- how many strata. 2- Is the work many-phased? —> (a) basic characater of declarative sentences; (b) functions of the work towards reader (and author); (c) relationships between the work and reality; (d) relationship work/author.

Aristotle focuses on the literary work as such, and then on the artistic function and the effect on the perceiver. He recognizes the sequential dimension and uses proto-stratum concepts (dianoia, etc.) but no clear strata. Opsis is not limited to vision (equivalent to aspects). Emphasis on the difference between the poet and the historian (the inner consistency of the poetic workd). Ingarden, lvii: "It seems likely, therefore, that Aristotle had nothing other in mind than what in my book The Literary Work of Art I called the 'objective' consistency within the framework of the world represented in the work".

Summary. First basic ontological conclusion:

(Ingarden, lvii): "The literary work is neither a physical nor a psychic nor a psychophysical entity but a 'purely intentional object' which has the source of its existence in the author's creative acts but at the same time has a certain physical ontic foundation. Thanks, above all, to its meaning stratum, it is an intersubjective intentional object".

Its essence is located between the aesthetic and the purely intellectual stances:

lvii: (Ingarden): "Literary works have a basic structure which is 'common' to all of them"; "they are not individualities which cannot be conceived as examples of a certain determinate class. This is an assumption without which no theory of art or aesthetics is possible" —> and it is a structure specific to works of art.

2 dimensions in the work: the strata, and "longitudinal", sequential sections (from Herder). [Also from Aristotle - JAGL]. As an intentional formation "transcendent to all conscious experiences, those of the author as well as those of the reader" (Ingarden) the work has a threefold ontic basis: the creative conscious act, the fixed text, and ideal concepts (basis for the objective identity of sentence meaning, so that the work be not dissolved into a multitude of concretizations" — problem here.

Artistic value from polyphonic harmony arising from content and from the interrelation of strata. Only through a concretization. "The charge, variously  raised, that 'there is no structure outside norms and values' [Wellek and Warren] or that Ingarden does not reconcile the systematic structure of the work with the work qua aesthetic object is thus anticipated and answered in The Literary Work of Art itself." Also: a study of distance, ambiguity, borderline and interart cases, etc.

Influence.— Ingarden's influence was restricted to Poland and Germany; accepted but not extended. Influences Hartmann, Stanzel, Staiger and Kayser, Müller, Dufrenne, Wellek and Warren. [One should add Martínez Bonati in the Spanish-speaking world - JAGL]. Ingarden against Russian formalists: they do not go beyond the assertion of fictionality in the ontological realm, and are content with stylistic analyses. The work is only verbal to them, they do not admit the two nonlinguistic strata (represented objects and schematized objects). [Questionable account of the Formalists here - JAGL]. Cf. Erlich: Formalists view literature as the manipulation of language, not as the representation of reality. Rebuttal in Ingarden of the claim that poetics is a subdivision of linguistics —> they are intersecting disciplines [Thinking here of linguistics of the sentence - JAGL]. Ingarden challenges the rejection of the duality form/content; he explores different meanings of this relationship.  But formalists go beyond Ingarden in seeing the work only with reference to other works: they put forward a theory of literature, not of the individual work of art.   Still, there is a dynamic and evolving method in both, instead of a fixed doctrine.

The translation is based on the 3rd ed. of 1965; §26 revised; §25a added, & Appendix.



Preface to the first German edition


Vs. psychologism and general artistic considerations as distorting the theory of the mode of the literary work. Since Lessing, either the pictorial or the linguistic tendency has been too pronounced. lxxxi: "In my opinion, the two extremes arose from the fact that the literary work was always considered to be a formation having one stratum, whereas in fact it consistes of a number of heterogeneous strata". Some elements were considered as only elements. Concern beyond literature: addresses the idealism / realism problem, polemic with Husserl, etc.

Preface to the second German edition


The book was a forerunner and has not been superseded. Errors in Wellek and Warren quoting him: he agrees with Wellek, but had said so before.




PART I: PRELIMINARY QUESTIONS
 


  
1. Introduction


The essence of a literary work has not been defined. It has been taken for granted, wrongly. Thre is a need to define an "essential anatomy" of the literary work that opens the way to an aesthetic consideration, if it is to be correctly formulated. The approach is not a psychologistic one: 4: "So long as we do not assume toward the object of investigation a phenomenological attitude that is purely receptive and directed at the essence of the thing, we are always inclined to overlook the specific and reduce it to something we already know." Conrad as a precedent. The literary work is not a psychic thing: 5: "The literary work is an object with an altogether peculiar structure."


I. INITIAL PROBLEMS
 



2. Provisional delimitedness of the range of examples


The structure of all literary works, irrespective of value [footnote 1965 ed.: the cognitive apprehension of structure apart from vaalue is not absurd (vs. Odebrecht). The identity of the work through concretizations presupposes this]. First series of examples, literary works; 2nd, works having to do with literature, diaries, films, etc.


3. The problem of the mode of existence of the literary work


A real or an ideal object? The division is too general and not complete: 10: "We are speaking here of real and ideal objects only as of something which in itself is ontically autonomous and at the same time ontically independent of any cognitive act directed at it". The real object exists in time; the ideal object is timeless, and not subject to change. Works do have a history (they change and cesase to exist). But the work is ideal as a manifold of sentences (sentences are not real, the ideal sense is constructed of a manifold of ideal meanings).


4. Psychologist conceptions and the problem of the identity of the literary work


A "real" view holds there are as many works as there are copies (purely material). Or the work would be the experience of the author, communicated [Werner, 1890, Audiat 1924 Kucharski 19323—with a second existence in the reader's consciousness—, Kleiner 1913]. —> There are problems to link the materiality of the work to experience, and to link our experience with that of the author. And it would cease to exist immediately after experience. Wroks would dissolve into many different experiences. 15: "Every new reading would produce an entirely new work". And there are problems to consider works as wholes. But 16: "each literary work is something that in itself is one and identical. —> Stratum of meaningful words and sentences must be considered a distinct stratum.


5. The literary work as an "imaginational object"


The essential structure of the work would be the object of experiences: the imaginational objects inside the work. But if this involves rejecting the level of ideal meanings and being content with the author's psychic life, these "imaginal objects" would be neither physical nor merely psychical—they have a relationship with real objects. It is impossible to maintain the unity of imaginational objects, and their identity. One way remains: 18: "to admit the existence of ideal meaning units and yet not incoporate them into the literary work—so as to avoid the difficulties presented above—but invoke their aid only for the purpose of securing the identity and unity of the literary work." —> Otherwise, we would have to deny its existence.



II. ELIMINATION OF FACTORS EXTRANEOUS TO THE STRUCTURE OF THE LITERARY WORKS
 

 
6. Closer delimitation of the topic [irrelevant approaches]


Addressing the complete work (no consideration of its formation phase). No psychology of aesthetic creativity here. Also will fall outside "all questions dealing with the cognition of the literary work [see Ingarden's The Cognition of the Literary Work of Art]. The work as an aesthetic object, but without any considerations of value.


7. What does not belong to the literary work? [i.e. to its structure]

The author and the process of creation, the author's experiences, etc. Also, the reader's experience, and considerations of value:  23: "We should not assume, on the other hand, that the literary work of art is eo ipso an ontically autonomous object." What develops in the reader and is valuable to him is not the same as what is essential to the work. Fallacy of a psychologistic theory of value. Questionable epistemological assumptions of psychologism. Also excluded are the real models for the objects and states of affairs inside the work [note this notion, 'in' the work - JAGL]. There remains the problem of relating them to the work.




PART II: THE STRUCTURE OF THE LITERARY WORK
 

   

III. THE BASIC STRUCTURE OF THE LITERARY WORK
 



8. The literary work as a stratified formation29: "The essential structure of the literary work inheres, in our opinion, in the fact that it is a formation constructed of several heterogeneous strata" different in material and function. Not a loose bundle, but an organic unity. 29: "There exists among them a distinct stratum, namely the stratum of meaning units, which provides the structural framework for the whole work"— central. Polyphonic character of work—each stratum variable in its own way, within the whole. Basic strata (others are possible): 30: "(1) the stratum of word sounds and the phonetic formations of higher order built on them; (2) the stratum of meaning units of various orders; (3) the stratum of the manifold schematized aspects and aspect continua and series, and, finally, (4) the stratum of represented objectivities and other vicissitudes." (The last is two-sided: sentences and objects). Stratum of "ideas"—> problem (dealt with later).
30-31: "In each of the strata, aesthetic value qualitites are constituted which are characteristic of the respective stratum." A stratum of aesthetic polyphony cutting across the whole? —> Later. Also a sequential structural element. [Kleiner's strata are phases of formation (but they do correspond with one another - JAGL) —> It is not clear how they manifest themselves in the text. Conrad: phonetic signs, meaning, intended object, and expressed object—or, symbol, meaning, and object. He excludes aspects; unaware of polyphony. Aesthetic object does not equal ideal object]. 33: "Only a detailed study of both the individual strata and the kind of connection arising from them can disclose the peculiarities of the structure of the literary work." Otherwise, ambiguity of the the terms form/content; also necessary to determine genres.



IV. THE STRATUM OF LINGUISTIC SOUND FORMATIONS
 



9. Single words and word sounds


Language: does it belong to the work or not? As a means, or essentially? In every literary work appear linguistic formations: words, sentences, sentence complexes. 2 sides: phonic material, and meaning. Word sound does not equal phonic material; this preserves the identity in the variety of pronunciations of pronounced words. Gestalt theory of phonemics at word level; structural. The identity of words is not real but ideal. Meaning interacts with word sound in the identification of its form Word sound, meaning? —>phonic properties add to manifestation [expressive function], not meaning. 42: "The primary and essential function of the word sound itself is to determine the meaning of the given word".


10. Various types of word sounds and their functions


Some words are especially apt to convey particular meanings because of history, etc. In systems of terms, combinatorial use rather than intuitive grasp of objects belonging to them (catchwords, scientific terms...) —> vs. living words. Some words are more expressive, others more significant. These differences play an important role in structure. Also, the purely phonetic content of word sound may be aesthetically relevant—>  Interplay with meaning too.
 

11. Phonetic formations of a higher order and their characters


Sentences, unlike words, are relatively independent. Word sounds exist as typical forms: there are sentence sounds not in the same sense (in spite of tonalities and of [standardized] sentences. Rhythm: strictly regular vs. freer (verse / prose). Immanent and imposed rhythms. The work contains immanent instructions as to rhythm. Phonetic rhythm vs. meaning rhythm. Tempo: peculiar immanent speed of the work. Related to rhythm, word form and meaning, and arrangement of sentences (shorter sentences —> faster tempi). Regular rhythm depends on phonetic units of higher order: verse, stanza. Melody: vowel quality, rhyme... There are also emotional qualities bound to rhythm, tempo, melody: "sad", "melancholy"... They are inherent, not projected by the hearer, although the hearer's mood may influence perception or add qualities. Punctuation is meaning-depenent, not the same as phonetic phenomena – etc.


12. The range of phonetic formations that belong to the literary work


According to Kucharski and E. von Hartmann, sensory perception is foreign to the literary work. No: the phonetic material must be excluded, but word sound does form a part, and there are also "expressive elements" whenever personae are represented: their tone, etc. The manifestations, qualities, rhythms, etc., are significant all in the sense of Gestalt qualities, and not of concrete material.


13. The role of the phonetic stratum in the structure of the literary work


Particular aesthetic qualities contribute to the work's polyphony. There is "beauty" peculiar to each of the materials which then enter into syntheses of higher order, giving rise to a "polyphony of aesthetic characters of heterogeneous types" (58). The materials are not merely a means of revealing the work: the phonetic stratum belongs to it. The stratum of meanings is, ontologically, the essential one: but they are linked necessarily to word sound or other word signs, "any Gestalt-quality factor" (59); they are "external, indispensable shell for the stratum of meaning units" and therefore also for the whole work. And, phenomenologically, as carriers of meaning, they reveal the whole work to the psychic subject. They also determine the aspects in which the represented objects are to appear (Meyer 1901), and also [dramatize,] manifest the personae. The phonetic stratum is indispensable.



V. THE STRATUM OF MEANING UNITS
 

  

14. Preliminary note.

15. The elements of the word-meaning
"Names" vs. "Syncategorematica" or functional words.

a) The meaning of names
 
It is composed of several elements: 1) An intentional directional factor; 2) Material content; 3) Formal content; 4) A moment of existential characterization; 5) (Sometimes) a moment of existential position. If they are part of a higher unit: 6) apophantic-syntactic elements.

1) Intentional directional factor: (64) "that moment wherein the workd 'refers' to this and no other object, or, in other cases, to this kind of object, we shall call the intentional directional factor". Types: according to individuality, singularity, [definiteness,] etc. Almost always variable according to the utilization of the word. Only in nominals.

2) Material content: The qualitative constitution of an object performs the determining function of the intentional object. 67: the purely intentional object, which in its essence belongs to the nominal oworld of word meaning, presents, with respet to its qualitative constitution, those moments—and only those—that are attributed to it in the material content of the meaning". An indeterminacy which can be further specified ("constants" and "variables"). The content of a concept is not the same as the common features of objects; it is made of constants plus variables not defined yet. Only in nominals.

3) Formal structure:  which organizes those qualitative essence-determinants. Seen as a thing, a property, a process, a state...  [Not noun vs. verb: for instance, there are nouns of activity].

4) & 5) Existential characterization (& position):  4) refers to the reality or non-reality, ideality; 5) to [actuality or not of 4)] - E.g., Hamlet "exists as real" but does not exist.

b) The difference between names and functional words:  —is it a matter of only functions, with no content or dissectional factor? No: There are analogues of content and of dissectional factor. And word meaning can only perform different functions vis à vis the objectivities belonging to it. The difference is rather in formal content. They cannot project any object, etc.

c) The meaning of the finite verb. Different intentional direction and "type of intentionality" (?). Nominal expressions (material and formal conent may coincide). Subject of particular features (noun) vs. process, happening (verb), with formal structure —> e.g. "the writing" vs. "I write". Temporal manner of representation in verbs; and dependent; it must be abstracted from sentences. The verb points to a subject (this is the verbal directional factor). 
  

16. The actual and potential stock of word meaningMaterial object does not equal meaning. 86: "Reference to one and the same 'material' objet does not suffice for an 'equivalence' of meanings" — Ontology does not equeal the meaning-oriented manner of determination. Formal objects are different. Then, the 'sameness' of different meanings cannot be accounted for by it. 87: "The meaning of the word 'square' contains in its material content actually only part of what is contained in the concept of a square". 87: "each word meaning of a noncompound nominal expression which in its formal content intends something in objective structure is is an actualization of a part of the ideal sense that is contained in the concept of the corresponding object, assuming, of course, that such a concept existes. Above all, this actualization creates the material and formal content of the meaning. Each ideal concept has a number of word meanings for the same object. That aspect of the ideal sense of the concept that is actualized in each case creates the actual stock of the meaning." Potential meaning is taken into account in reading: not just the actualized meaning. It depends on knowledge of vocabulary and contextual support. Another effect is the possible discovery of two concepts behind a word as the actualization progresses, etc. (Analogically, we might say that at the end of Beckett's The Unnamable, "I can't go on, I'll go on", only part of the ideal sense of "going on" is actualized - JAGL).



17. Word meanings as elements of sentences, and their attendant concepts

The isolated word is an abstraction. Words appear in sentences: the word performs a function in the sentence. The intentional directional factor varies and formal content is enriched: new elements are added to the formal content. Material content is modified usually in a manifold of connected sentences. [Ingarden seems to lack a clear concept of the concept of a text, or discourse, as a unity beyond the sentencealthough he is struggling to define just that].


18. Word meanings, sentences, and complexes of sentences as products of subjective operations


Idealistic versus psychologistic investigation of meaning. Both wrong. Husserl: words meanings as ideal species, changeless and timeless. Psychological analisis is different from the above analysis. But change and variations in one meaning have to be justified without a proliferation of ideal meanings of words and sentences. Danger of having to presuppose the existence of all, and reduce the writer to a discoverer of complexes of sentences. What we have is sentence-forming operations. Conclusion: distinction real/ideal does not cover all objects. Bestowing meaning on a word as creating something. Usually, sentence-formation. 103: "The sentence-forming or duplicating operation, however, is in most instances only a relatively dependent phase of a much broader subjective operation, from which arise not individual, out-of-context sentences, but, instead, entire complexes of sentences or manifolds of connected sentences."——> In proving, narrating, etc., "we are" already "attuned, usually from the very beginning, to the whole which we are to 'develop' even before we have formed the individual sentences by which it will be developed." ("Theme"). 104: The sentence-forming operation is guieded both by what has been said and by what is to be said. It is not fully free, and it is not fully bound. The manifolds of objects are changeable: they are not ideal objects. The meaning stratum (105) "has no autonomous ideal existence but is relative, in both its origin and its existence, to entirely determinate subjective conscious operations. On the other hand, however, it should not be identified with any concretely experienced 'psychic content' or with any real existence."


19. General characteristics of the sentence

All types of sentences can appear in a literary work. (107): "Thus we can say that we find in a literary work sentences which express 'judgments', 'questions', 'desires' or 'commands'. Furthermore, sentences may appear in various modifications, as, for example, indirect as opposed to direct discourse, etc." Three phases in the description of a sentence (107):
"(1) what a sentence is in itself
(2) what it performs purely of itself, as an objectivity constructed in a particular manner [at a semantic level? at a pragmatic level? JAGL] and
(3) what services it performs for psychic individuals in connection with their lives and experiences."
    (1): Phonetic stratum + meaning content. Only the second is characteristic. (107): "This content is a functional-intentional unit of meaning which is constructedas a self-enclosed whole out of a number of word meanings." (But see later, sentence complexes). Sentence function: specifies the function of the words inside it. Sentence-meaning (vs. word-meaning), co-ordinates the sentence with objectivities, manifests a particular intentionality.  The sentence in (1) as a product of sentence-forming operations, not considered as judgement, etc.——> Not in relation to a determinate state of affairs in reality. In attributive sentences, the noun projects an object, the verb ascribes an activity to this object; the noun becomes the subject of an activity and is conceived in its execution: no longer a juxtaposition, it is a new unit, the sentence is produced. [1965 note reformulates: "one must necessarily distinguish the process as it develops in the ocurse of time as a growing totality of phases, from the process as an object (as a subject of properties) constituted in this development. The difference between a sentence and a word group in which a name is connected with an adjective corresponds to this difference" respectively]. The correlate of a sentence is not an object, nor an action but a "state of affairs" (115). (Husserl, Reinach, Pfänder).
    (2) The state of affairs is purely intentional—but it can be set in relation to an 'objective' state of affairs.
    (3) It is not necessary to effect this function of "manifesting" (thought, etc.).


20. The purely intentional object of a simple intentional act (which belongs to the stratum of objectivities). 


A purely intentional object is "created" by an act of consciousness. Originally, or derivatively. The purely intentional object consists of content plus the structure which characterises it as something purely intentional (the "carrier", it does not coincide with the carrier of the formal properties of the object, e.g. of "tableness"). The material content is not the same as the formal properties of the object, nor is part of it.  The true carrier usually remains latent and concealed; morphe seems  to be the main carrier. Not a second objectivization superimposed to the 1st: simpler. If we intend seriously, this is usually evident. No ontic autonomy for the object; no true "creation" then: "Assignation", "illusion". The range of possibilities is greater in purely intentional objects (e.g. wooden iron, round square) even if they cannot be intuitively imagined. They can be declared void (in a sense, not destructible because they have precisely no ontic autonomy). 124: "Particularly interestin is the fact that an object that has already been 'destroyed', already 'invalidated', can again be intended as an invalidated object." Two transcendences: for instance, the hero of a novel may change, yet he remains the same. The total object goes beyond what has been intended in the discrete intentional act.  [One would think that an additional act would be required for that - JAGL]


21. The derived purely intentional correlates of the meaning units

Purely intentional objects derived from word meanings free themselves from their immediate contact with the acts of consciousness in the process of execution—relative independence. 126: "this artistic relativity of theirs refers back directly to the intentionality immanent in the unities of meaning and only indirectly to the intentionality of the acts of consciousness." ——> They become intersubjective, like words themselves. Other modifications: 126: "a certain schematization of their content." Vividness, Richness and multiple associations in this object's contact with experience. But this is limited when put in words. 127: "Of the originally intended purely intentional object there remains, so to speak, only a skeleton, a schema" (——> this can be reversed by other nonsemantic elements; see later).


22. The purely intentional correlate of the sentence

The purely intentional correlates of assertive propositions are states of affairs, the ontic locus in that proposition: they are isolated, self-enclosed wholes. (Vs. the idea of a connection between sentences and objective states of affairs—not ontic)——> a "correspondence". 129: "Objective states of affairs can directly correspond, according to their essence, only to assertive propositions". I.e. objectively existing states of affairs must not be confused with purely intentional states of affairs: 131: "sentences which have the form of assertive propositions can  be modified in such a way that, in contrast to genuine 'jugments', they make no claim of 'striking' an objective state of affairs." The ontic character in the sentence (i.e. 'universal', 'necessary', 'factual', etc.) is apart from the character of 'real' or 'ideal' sentence. The presence of mutually exclusive characters and structures is possible because the sentence correlate as such does not equal its content. In content, again: matter + formal structure + ontic characters.. 133: "The state of affairs can be apprehended in its pure structure only if we do not name it but, effecting a sentence-forming operation, develop it in a nominal-verbal manner and, in doing so, glance, as if incidentally, at its formal structure without thereby objectifying it." The structure of sentence correlates does not equal the structure  of the simply intended object, even if the content is the same. "The rose is red" does not equal "the redness of the rose." ; the noun is an "open" state of affairs to which a feature is added. It is isolated in some way: rose as carrier (substantia) + redness. 137: "And the peculiar essence of the state of affairs, which finds its full development only through the intentionality of the sentence, lies precisely in surmounting this basic opposition . . . . " All properties of the rose (except redness!) are implicit in that phrase. Direct lines link states of affairs with common objects in them, and they are easily developed. However, not everything which is at all valid for ontically autonomous states of affairs is also valid for purely intentional sentence correlates, and vice-versa. The purely intentional is not constrained by the natural laws of experience; it may contain mutually exclusive elements, which do not have to be unequivocally determined; an ambiguity which lends itself to many interpretations is possible. (Are they sentences with a number of correlates? No: one purely intentional correlate—sometimes ambiguity is necessary for artistic effect).


23. Sentence complexes: Higher meaning units constituted therein

Sentences are usually organized into higher wholes - See T. A. Meyer, Der Stilgesetzt der Poesie (Leipzig, 1901), 18ff. Relevant questions here: 


1) What is a connection between sentences? 
2) Which properties of sentences bring it about?
3) What is constituted? 
4) Types of connections?
5) Types of constituted entities?

As something which is being constituted, the whole is primary. 146: "But, even from this perspective, what lies at the basis and is the determining factor is not the already formed whole itself but only its 'conception', the more or less precise outline of what is to be formed." 147: "The author must have a certain perspective on something that transcends the individual sentences that are formed at any given point in the work." (Here Ingarden points at something like the textual macrostructures described by van Dijk and other text grammarians and discourse analysts. Of course it is also a basic notion from rhetoric). But when the work is regarded as complete, finished, then sentences are the basis. For the reader, the sentences come first. 147: "The entire work is then something dependent which arises from the total meaning content and from the order of the individual sentence"; but they are influenced by previous sentences. 

1) What is a connection between sentences? A "reaching out" of some elements in the sentence beyond the state of affairs which would be projected by the sentence if isolated is the basis for a connection: this is established if two meanings are tied coherently. So, reaching-out + tying-in. Groups are formed, enclosed within larger groups, etc.  (An embedded-box analysis or a frame analysis of discourse structure is suggested by this notion of Ingarden's — cf. the moves, steps, etc. suggested by Swales in Genre Analysis).

2) Which properties of sentences bring it about? Some purely functional words (insofar, and), some materially functional words (afterwards, behind), by common nouns in both sentences, [pronouns with] the same intentional directional factor, helped by succession, etc.

3) What is constituted? For instance, a story, a proof, a theory.... 153: "Every such whole possesses its own compositional structure, which is naturally dependent on the sentence contour and the order in the sequence of sentences and finally, on the type of the connection. [One might want to put it the other way round: the sequence of sentences etc. is dependent on the compositional structure; Ingarden's account of textual structure is curiously nonpragmatic and static]. This structure is not identical with any attribute of the individual sentences, however." —> From the structure we can derive the concepts of simplicity or complexity of composition, etc.

4) Types of connections. More or less tight; there are many types, implicit or explicit, etc. Material vs. logical connections.

5)  Types of constituted entities. The dominant connection and the selection of types of connection characterise the whole in a peculiar way. [Ingarden seems not to trust totoo much connections not generically tradicional]. All this must be explored systematically; here it is only pointed out.

24. The Purely Intentional Correlates of the Higher Meaning Units that Are Constituted in Sentence Complexes.

A material ontic connection is developed between sentences whose states of affairs share common objects: a loose relation between two states of affairs. 157: "The states of affairs, figuratively speaking, merge into a 'net' in which the given object is 'enstanred'." Ultimately, 157: "a determined object, or a whole manifold of objects, and their vicissitudes, comes to be represented in a manifold of connected states of affairs." Each state of affairs may nevertheless be intentionally isolated. But in fluid apprehension of the object, the demarcations are removed, even if the trace of the sentence-based way of representing can never be totally removed.

25. The Quasi-jugdmental Character of the Declarative Sentences Appearing in a Literary Work  [Affirmative propositions]


As opposed to judgments in a scientific work—those are genuine, they "not only lay claim to truth but are true or false." Those of literature (160) "are not pure affirmative propositions, nor, on the other hand, can they be considered to be seriously intended assertive propositions or judgments." Pure affirmative propositions vs. judicative propositions; cognitive: the former are directed to purely intentional objects; the latter go beyond, they refer to an object which is real or intended as real—> the purely intentional state of affairs is transported into the real ontic sphere and (162) there is an existential setting. —> The basis for claims to truth. The ontic sphere of a state of affairs is now critically independent with respect to the judgment. The two states of affairs are juxtaposed and identified (if possible). Two concretizations of the same ideal [ ] which are then passed over. 163: "The intention of the proposition points directly at that which is ontically independent with respect to the judicative proposition." The purely intentional state of affairs becomes transparent, disappears for us. (Arguments in favour of the distinction of the intentional from the real state of affairs, etc.; OK). —> Only the content of the judicative proposition, and not the intentional correlate as such (including "this", "that", etc) is made to "coincide" with the objective state of affairs. 167: "Between the two extremes—of the pure affirmative proposition and the genuine judicative proposition—lies the kind of sentences that we find in the (modified) assertive propositions in literary works." 167: "the assertive propositions appearing in a literary work have the external habitus of judicative propositions, though they neither are nor are meant to be genuine judicative propositions." They are assertive, not purely affirmative, but without any truth value. Some of them approach either of the poles (affirmative - judicative). Intentionally projected states of affairs are ontically set, but there is a total absence of the intention of an exact matching to the corresponding state of affairs that is objectively existing. Transported to the real world, but only as an ontic setting, not with a matching-intention. We are aware that the intentional contents have their origin in the intentionality of the sentence. 168: "For this reason the corresponding purely intentional states of affairs are only regarded as really existing without, figuratively speaking, being saturated with the character of reality. That is why, despite the transposition into reality, the intentionally projected states of affairs form their own world." They may refer to a vaguer or narrower world. Partial anchorings in reality. (Paris in novels: real and not real). In historical novels we step closer to judicative propositions. But there is no identification with real states of affairs: rather, a substitution, a duplication. The suggestive power of the work comes from the quasi-judgmental character of its assertive propositions. Judgments spoken by the characters (if they are sincere, etc.) are real inside the represented world, "and, finally, only for the represented characters (172) speaking with each other." —> They are not the author's opinions on the real world. Those of the author are only quasi-judgments "which the author uses precisely for the purpose of simulating this world". [Added in 1965: If the author uses the work to smuggle his opinion about the real world, that is an extra-artistic end.]

25a [added in 1965]: Are there no quasi-judgments in a literary work of art?

So argues Käte Hamburger, Die Logik der Dichtung (Suttgart, 1957), 14ff., passim. She opposes Ingarden's conception, which she considers tautologic, restricted to drama and the novel, and with a confused concept of 'quasi-judgment'. The argument is held to be circular: they are quasi-judgments only because they are in a novel; this does not describe the structure of the novel but only the psychological attitude of author and reader. 

Ingarden's answer: It is a contradictory criticism: Are the concepts (Ingarden's) tautological, or false? Are they psychological, or wrong?  
- Ingarden is not doing a "labeling" but a description, and it is not psychological, but phenomenological. (The psychological perspective is given in The Cognition of the Literary Work of Art). A narrow, and not strong perspective? —> A meaningless objection. 
- On lyric poetry: It is included here. 178: "For me the lyric is no less 'mimetic' than epic or dramatic poetry, and what is represented in it is 'unreal' to the same degree as the world represented in a dramatic or an epic work; only it is represented differently, and what is represented is different."
- Tautology?—> Hamburger mixes two problems: the definition of quasi-judgment and the recognition by the reader that it is one. (2) is "tautological"—a recognition from the fact that we are reading a novel (coming from types of title, genre labels, etc.). Hamburger does not explain which is the logical status of statements in the work of art.


26. An Analogous Modification of Sentences of Other Types [revised 1965]

The former does not apply only to declarative sentences: there are quasi-questions, quasi-evaluations, etc. 182: "Their function consists solely in the intentional projection of certain ontically heteronomous objectivities, which can at most give themselves an appearance of reality but can never attain it." Those of characters as such are real—> "double-natured character" of sentences in the work. But they may also be quasi-judgments; 182: "Then the intentionally projected world is many-leveled." The expressive function in questions, etc., also undergoes a similar alteration. —sometimes we are informed of experiences of the character not only by the content, but by the appearance of the sentences [Cf. Todorov- JAGL]. Are there any problems in justifying states of affairs not present in the meaning of the sentences? The [subjective] function of "manifestation" is not the same as the purely intentional projection through meaning units.




 

VI. THE ROLE OF THE STRATUM OF MEANING UNITS IN THE LITERARY WORK. THE REPRESENTATION FUNCTION OF THE PURELY INTENTIONAL SENTENCE CORRELATES


27. The Differentiation of the Various Functions of Sentences and Sentence Complexes.

Two roles of sentences and complexes: 

1) The projection of the remaining strata.
2) Their role as a particular material which participates in the polyphony of the work.
In (1) we can distinguish: the intentional perspective, the 'how' of the representation; the more detailed shaping of formations and characters through the meanings of words and sentences; the aspects in which the objectivities will appear; the constitution of the 'idea' of the work.

28. The projection function of sentences; states of affairs and their relation to represented objectivities

A passage from the intentional development of states of affairs to purely intentional objects. Both are transcendent with respect to the meaning content of the sentence. Objects connected with states of affairs exist in the same manner (here, intentionally). 190: Constitutive connection of states of affairs starting from the naming of objects. Objects can be seen through diverse states of affairs, "windows"—a medium we must cross to reach the object and have it as given. —> These media disappear to a certain degree, to facilitate our view of the object, even if they are something which belongs to the proper ontic range of the object.


29. The Representing and Exhibiting Function of the States of Affairs.
Various types of states of affairs can be found in assertive propositions: states of essence, of thus-appearances, of occurrence, etc. States of affairs are suited to one of these groups, but [contextually] they can perform other representing functions: sentences of thus-appearance can be used to deal with the essence, etc. Sentences of thus-appearance reveal the essence indirectly, and presuppose the apprehension of a conscious subject. Likewise, many properties of objects are made manifest only when the object is apprehended in an occurrence. —> Occurrences also connect states of essence to one another. "Exhibiting." is only a particular way of representation: that of qualities of things which are self-presenting.  

Other objects are given intuitively, through aspects.

30. Other modes of representation by means of states of affairs
 
Some of them (which can occur in both the purely representing and the simultaneously exhibiting states of affairs): 


1) Regarding which state of affairs related to the object is selected (infinite in each moment of the object, and infinite moments). Various selections are possible, 198: "one and the same intentional object can be represented or exhibited in various combinations of properties, states, etc., depending on which manifold represents it." The object is shown here from another side—as it were in another perspective—and, figuratively speaking, in other perspectival foreshortenings since, in the various manifolds of properties of an object, one and the same property seems capable of taking on a different role and importance in its total essence (The same object? "cum grano salis"). The material of poets is not different from the sentences which form it. But not only the selected properties are present in each case, constituting two different objects: there are also potential components in word meanings, even though they do not attain interactional projection, which are a basis for the identity of two objects projected differently: for instance, one object may be presented only in its thus-appearance in a work and in its internal properties in another; (200:) visual elements may appear in one work and auditory ones in another...  The external aspect of characters or spiritual life, inessential or essential states of affairs of objects, "internal" vs. "relational" states of affairs... [cf. character vs. plot - JAGL]—etc.

(200) 

2) Whether states of affairs show the object within themselves or refer to other states of affairs which are not directly determined by the meaning content of the sentences—> "indirect determination", if done in a calculated way it is a new kind of representation (symbolic works).

3) With regard to the meaning material of the sentences. Two different materials (and sounds) can convey the same state of affairs. Words may differ in their potential stock of meaning, and add different emotional coloration.

4) The kinds of connection between states of affairs (a result of different sentence structures, different type of sentence complex). The formation of a stratum of objects in the literary work is essentially dependent on the structure of the sentence, and on the complex of sentences [of course].
205: "Only the sequence of a number of sentences constitutes a connection between the individual states of affairs, and indeed a connection of an entirely particular type."
In Novalis, in Kleist, each is a complex situation. 
An all-encompassing frame is built at first, which is then filled out. 

5) The manner in which the narrrating subject belongs to the work by virtue of the particular formation of meaning content of the sentence. According to T. Lipps (Grundlegung der Ästhetik, Leipzig, 1903, p. 497)—an "I" is supposed in any sentence from the very nature of language. But this is not correct. 206: "Usually the meaning content of the sentences says nothing about the 'narrator' or whether the sentences are spoken by anyone as component parts of a narration". There are works written "impersonally", with no manifestation function. 
207: "If the meaning content of the sentences or the circumstances under which they appear do not indicate the author as the narrator, the entire work is, so to speak, beyond the reach of the author: he himself does not belong to the work as a represented character." It is different when the author represents himself as narrator in the corresponding states of affairs. Then the narrator (it is of no essential significance whether it is the author himself or a character created by him) is cogiven to us as the narrating person —> and belongs to the object stratum, and the states of affairs are boxed within one another. A further complication ensues if the narration becomes a scene, a dramatic representation, and characters project a new object stratum by speaking. In any case, there is a double projection of states of affairs. [For Ingarden, there is no narrator in the "impersonal" mode he mentions.]

6) Difference between "dramatic" and "nondramatic." (Abstracting from the fact of staging). In drama, there are two texts: the stage directions, and the main text. They supplement each other; they are also boxed. In the novel there is never so sharp a division. There may be no boxing [meaning no direct speech? JAGL]. Whereas in drama, the spoken sentences constitute the main text, the main basis for the represenatation of objects, the side text is nevertheless essential to characterize the boxing as boxing.


31. The role of meaning units as a special material in the structure of the literary work

Apart from constituting other strata, the meaning stratum functions as a material with its own voice in the work's polyphony. In a way, meaning passes without our noticing it; but it always remains peripherally. A transition through the sphere of the meaningful and rational is necessary before we reach other strata (unlike the case of music). Degrees of rationality and lyricism: Rational value is disregarded by some critics. Unique aesthetic values have their origin in this stratum. 

1) Properties of meaning content:
Clarity vs. obscurity are dependent on sentence and connection. They are not introduced by the reader [Ingarden assumes a capable reader - JAGL]. It is not a question of vividness and effortlessness: rather of structural features like the sharp separation of the members of the meaning unit and their ordering in a whole, one perception not disturbing the other, and a view of the whole being obtainable; of the unambiguity of words vs. opaqueness, haziness and vague delineation.

2) Also, simplicity vs. complexity, lightness vs. heaviness... etc. All are connected. The style of writing is founded on certain properties or others of the spectrum of meaning units. Style is that particular value. A certain coolness of the beauty of this stratum, it is not emotionally moving. Even if badly constructed, it has its own voice, and can contribute to the whole. Above all, it should not hinder the presentation of other strata.




VII. THE STRATUM OF REPRESENTED OBJECTS

32. Recapitulation and introduction

This is the best known stratum; it is often the only one which is apprehended thematically, but often with a crude psychologistic approach and a direct transference between the world and the work. 218: Purely intentional objects, related among themselves, constitute an ontic sphere, a great part of it brought about by the potential stock of the word meanings. This world has its own (quasi) real and ideal objects inside; a "represented objectivity" accounts for (219:) "everything that is nominally projected regardless of objectivity category and material essence." It is subject to the modifications produced by the representation by means of states of affairs and by the modifications produced by the imaginative mode of appearance; 220: "Representation by means of states of affairs is not necessary with all objects, in particular not with those that are directly projected by names and nominal expressions."


33. The habitus of reality of represented objects

Objects appear in novels in the character of reality. 221: "This character of reality, however, is not to be fully identified with the ontic character of truly existing real objects. In represented objectivities there is only an external habitus of reality, which does not intend, as it were, to be taken altogether seriously (...)"; a "mere claim to reality". No t an "ideal" existence; Husser's "neutrality modification" does not apply here. This character affects all categories: quasi-dreams, etc.

34. Represented space and "imaginational space"

Space in the work is not real nor the imaginational space which belongs to the intuitive imagining of objects. 223: "it is a unique space which essentially belongs to the represented 'real' world." It is not unlimited in the sense that real space is; only the inevitability of corepresentation adds space to that which is mentioned. There are here "spots of indeterminacy" impossible in real space. The represented Munich is not the same as the real Munich. 224: "If it could be, then it would have to be possible to wak out, as it were, from represented into real space and vice versa, which is patently absurd." "In contrast to imagined space, imaginational space is strictly immanent in imaginational experience." In imaginational data, order is not imposed from the outside. They are guided by the intentional act. The imagined object is not psychic merely on the grounds that the imaginational experience is psychic. The objects projected by word meanings, etc., are not imaginational either.

35. Various modes of spatial orientation of represented objectivities

Space in the work corresponds to perceptually given space. 230: "It must then be exhibited, so to say, through the medium of orientational space. In particular, orientational spaces must thus be used which belong to the represented psychic subjects 'perceiving' this represented space. If this is the case, the question arises where the center of orientation ('the zero point of orientation', as Husserl calls it) is to be found." If the poet tells a story and belongs to the world as narrator, the center of orientation lies in the I of the poet (not the real I, but the I as narrator). (Vs. the notion of "the author" as a primary starting point). If the narrator does not belong inside, the point may be found inside but not located in any subject, 230: "so that all the represented objects are again exhibited as if they were seen from a determinate point (which sometimes changes in the course of the representation). Or (131:) "the center of orientation may be found in the zero point of the I of a represented person and move with every change of place he makes"—we fictively transpose ourselves there, we abandon our own center of orientation. The point of orientation is frequently located in a number of persons; for instance, in the person that plays the main role in a particular section. The same event may be shown from different perspectives, etc. In read drama, the center of orientation is an invisible spectator belonging to the represented world. All remaining states of affairs, however, are not boxed here.

36. Represented time, and time perspectives

Represented time does not coincide with the objective time of the real world or with the "subjective time" of an absolute conscious subject. Objects appear in a temporal order; some phases are represented, but others are intentionally projected by meaning contents. It is not the same as the time of the author writing or the time of the reader reading. Three kinds of time: 1) Physico-mathematical; 2) Concrete (collectively apprehendable, intersubjective) 3) Subjective. 234: "It is self-evident that in literary works only an analogue of concrete intersubjective or subjective time is represented, and not empty physical time". It is not homogeneous, but sensitive to events. Cf. Bergson's temps, also inside the work. Not the same as the time of the author, or the time of the reader. The present as in actu esse, condition of real existence—> ontic priority of the present over the past and the future; it gives them their character. Tim in the work is an analogue of real time. The distinction past-present-future stems from the reciprocal order of events, not from the fact of passing through a genuine in actu esse. We have therefore a simulated present, past and future. 

236: "the represented present has none of the prominence of the genuine present over the represented past and future"—> a leveling of differences similar to that which occurs in the real past. 236: "Then it is no accident that, in the vast majority of literary works, events and objects are represented in terms of the past." Is absolute continuity representable? In fact, it it is never represented. Time is represented through the states of affairs of sentences (unlike real time). 237: "In most cases, what is primarily represented is, not the time phase, in and of itself, but that which fills out a time phase." And only isolated phases are represented, while the rest remains indeterminate. There is a finite number of sentences. The case of space is similar. (The explicitly represented vs. the corepresented). There are also points of temporal orientation, moving, as time progresses. In real time we can step back but we can never really live the actual now [of the past]. Transpositions in represented time are successful to a greater degree—the past as is experienced as if it were another present. There are double time perspectives, when a past event is contemplated from its own time and is also seen from much later. 

Other time perspectives in a single moment (simultaneous): complex or simple, cf. above, Kleist, when several threads of action are spun simultaneously.  

Also, [scenes] in which time is represented in its simple individuality, vs. informational narrative [summaries]. 241: "only when a scene is shown in its concrete fullness and in its entire temporal extension are we again dealing with qualitatively determined, represented time"—> in summaries, time is represented in its general structure, not in its individuality. This is only possible in represented time. Scenes are seen in proximity; informational narrative is seen from a distance, in the past. In scenes, the zero point of temporal orientation is transposed to that moment in the pst where the represented scene begins and then, as the events develop, the past is made present, an "erstwhile now". If the whole work is projected mode of the present, it has a dramatic quality.  Etc.

An analysis of the differences in time presentation would show the differences between genres.


37. The Reproduction and Representation functions of represented objects

Is the work a representation of reality? 245: "it is clear that this observation does not refer to the entire literary work but merely to its object stratum." Range from historical works (phenomenologically the opposite from scholarly historical works: there, representation [Repräsentation]) to works where there is a similarity to the objects of real experience. (In Repräsentation the representer imitates the represented while concealing itslef as the representer).


38. Spots of indeterminacy of represented objectivities.

All real objects are determined, they appear in a primary concrete unity with others and are  absolutely individual. [They are infinite], while fictional objectivities are projected by a finite number of sentences. Represented objectivities (like all purely intentional ones) are finite, and need not be individual to the extreme [For example: they may be colored, but not of any particular color.] They are infinite in some way (cointended) but that is not represented unequivocally in its quiddity. —> An infinitely great number of spots of indeterminacy. Also because of insufficient determination effected by words as such. The represented object is only a schematic formation. 251: "every literary work is in principle incomplete and always in need of further supplementation; in terms of the text, however, this supplementation can never be completed." There is an appearance of completeness, however, to the reader: 252: "we are not conscious of the spots of indeterminacy"; first because we see the object only from that aspect which is determined by the unities of meaning; 2nd because some of the spots are concealed by the aspects; 3rd. because the reader goes beyond the text and completes it. 252: "In a word, the literary work itself is to be distinguished from its respective concretizations, and not everything that is valid for the concretization of the work is equally valid for the work itself." 2 types of spots: those removable on the basis of textual supplementation (because the text dissipates a strictly circumscribed manifold of possibilities), and those which are not. [The director as reader]. Possibility of impossibilities of the work (new rules, etc). Ambiguity, opalescence, etc. Different and contradictory properties may be attributed to objects, etc.




VIII - THE STRATUM OF SCHEMATIZED ASPECTS


39. Introduction

255: We speak of schemata of aspects, not concrete aspects. Representation through states of affairs is not enough for an intuitive apprehension of represented objects; we need aspects. The manner in which represented "real" objects are given is attuned to the perceptual reality of real objects.

40. The perceived thing and concrete perceptual aspects

256: Many phenomenological modes: Here, only those "aspects" (of things) in which the perceived thing attains corporeal self-presentation. 
257: Relativity of the perceived aspect of thing to the perceiving subject: it depends on his behavior. A manifold of aspects is also subject to its own transformation connected to its particular time structures—the past conditions the present.  Two elements in the content of an aspect: fulfilled and unfulfilled qualities (given and cogiven—e.g. the back of a sphere of which we see only the front)—> something phenomenally present and not merely intended. Many properties of the aspect we do not see also have to do with unfulfilled qualities (for instance, uniformity of color in a sphere). The degree and kind of unfulfilledness are variable. Always syntheses of various senses, not pure (visual, etc.) aspects. The unity of an aspect is defined not by a sharp contour vs. an outside, but by common membership of elements inside it. It is linked to succession and perception.


41. Schematized aspects

262: According to Husserl, "there is a strict affiliation between every perceptually given property of a thing and the manifold of aspects, strictly ordered according to rules, in which the given property appears" —and vice versa—> 262: "what is in question here are not aspects that are experienced once and then lost for all time but certain idealizations, which are, so to speak, a skeleton, a schema, of concrete, flowing, transitory aspects." 
263: "every moment of a thing determines a manifold of schematized aspects which constitute the skeleton of the concrete aspects in which it appears. By "schematized aspect", therefore, one should understand only the totality of those moments of the content of a concrete aspect whose presence in it is a sufficient and indispensable condition for the primary self-givenness of the object or, more precisely, for the objective properties of a thing." (2 aspects may refer to only one property—if they are two varieties of the same schematized aspect). 364: The filling out of the rest is subjective; it no longer depends on the object; it is seen as variable. 

42. Schematized aspects in a literary work

264: "Schematized aspects, which are neither concrete nor at all psychic, belong to the structure of a literary work as a separate stratum." Schematized, because their basis is the sentences, not the individual's experience: "in the reading they allow of various actualized aspects—though within predetermined limits." Actualization is effected on the basis of previously experienced concrete aspects. Different concretization depending on readers: 265: "Here we see once again that a literary work is a schematic formation. In order to see this, however, if it is necessary to apprehend the work in its schematized nature and not confuse it with the individual concretizations that arise in individual readings." Two kinds of factors: those present in the text to some extent, and those which can inhere in the reader, although they may be prepared for this actualization in the text, and forced upon the reader. —> "Aspects that are held in readiness", only in some works. (Through phonetic structures—????). If aspects are described, objects themselves do not appear but indirectly, 266: "only that manifold of aspects can be predetermined which belongs to the explicitly presented side of the objectivities. Schematized aspects are separated from one another by jumps. Readers' contributions helps overcome this stiffness. 269: "But the jumpiness of the succession of aspects can never be entirely removed. Even when it is overcome to a certain degree, that which causes this overcoming, and the overcoming itself, do not belong to the literary work itself but to one of its concretizations, which in their essence relate to a given reading and a given reader." Aspects are not actualized as genuine, perceptual aspects, but as an imaginal modification. Pulsating, sometimes aspects disappear and reappear. They present objects, but not things. The background is not actualizable as an object—"murky cloud", vs. real object.


43. "Internal aspects" of one's own psychic processes and character traits as elements of a literary work

The presentation of foreign bodies is not the same as the presentation of things. Analogy with "internal aspects" of our own experience. Different data from those of external experience. Diverse modes of appearance. (etc.).

275: "psychic occurrences and objectivities also appear in manifolds of aspects. Appropriately schematized internal aspects enter into a literary work just as much as "external" aspects do. The poet's great art consists precisely of not merely speaking about the psychic states and character traits of his 'heroes' but representing them (...)." Otherwise, we only get lifeless paper figures. All this solves the problem of intuitive elements in the work.


IX. THE ROLE OF THE STRATUM OF SCHEMATIZED ASPECTS 
IN A LITERARY WORK


44. The differentiation of the basic foundation of schematized aspects in a literary work

Twofold function: 276 "(1) aspects held in readiness enable us to intuitively apprehend represented objects in predetermined types of modes of appearance. At the same time, they gain a certain power over represented objects by influencing their constitution." (2) Contribution to the polyphony of the work with their own aesthetic values.


45. The determining function of aspects; the influence of aspect variety on the total character of the work

276 "The first and foremost significant function of aspects in a literary work is based on the fact that, through them, represented objects can be made to appear in a manner predetermined by the work itself." "Concreteness, strict individuality, vitality, corporeality, can be brought out only by our actualization of aspects held in readiness." If they were not present the reader would supply them. Not only from meaning: they are also derived from sound—The selection of synonyms (not sound!- JAGL) sometimes results in a different aspect. So they do not merely cause the appearance of objectivities, but also have an influence on their constitution. —> 278: "as one reads, the given objectivities appear to take on moments, or properties, to which, simple on the basis of what is represented by states of affairs, they are not entitled. To this extent one may also speak of the determining function of aspects". 279: "the work assumes different characteristics depending on the nature of the presominant aspects." Visual, auditive, aspects, etc., internal or external behavior of characters— one point of view, or several, etc. (Plurality of viewpoints is impressionistic, it has a special aesthetic charm). Usually a particular kind of aspect predominates (e.g. visual, internal, etc.). In reading we ignore spots of indeterminacy, we go beyond them and concretize the work—we believe that a situation presented thorugh different aspects is "the same" [Ingarden's account of semantics is insufficiently developed—sometimes he sounds as though he puts all this aspect variability under the heading of phonetic material! - JAGL]
280: Common vs. uncommon aspects— these give a newness sheen to the world. 281: New literary movements are usually based here: a change in the way of seeing the world, together with a change of taste. The well-known vs. the unknown: habits of perception, etc. Determination of the essence of objects, reduction of the unknown to the previously known. But (281): "Heidegger in particular is mistaken when he asserts that the purely cognitive attitude is founded on the practical one". 


282: "If the represented world is really to have some 'fresh blood' in it, if the work is to reveal what is most peculiar and essential to it, aspect manifolds of great revealing power must be held in readiness in it [he analyzes focalization in a realist novel, "we walk with the hero", etc.] —coherent, vs. torn combination of aspects in later expressionist works. 283: "This is the basis for one of the essential features of literary expressionism, though this does not exhaust its essence". —Different imprint given to objects, and stylistic differences in the work.

46. Decorative and other aesthetically relevant properties of aspects

Stylistic values of aspect stratum are not apprehended as such: they are transferred to the objects. 287: "These stylistic features do not constitute anything that would pertain to real objects in the way of real attributes." They are more important in intentional than in real objects, above all in works of art. They are especially prominent in in culmination phases of the work— the transition phase may be indifferent.  The removal of the stratum of aspects would transform a literary work of art into a mere written work—> (287:) Cf. Walzel's notion of art as opposed to science, because "it expresses its contents of cognition, wish and feeling in a sensorially effective manner", transforming content into form.


X. THE ROLE OF REPRESENTED OBJECTIVITIES IN A LITERARY WORK OF ART AND THE SO-CALLED IDEA OF A WORK



47. Does the object stratum have any function whatsoever in a literary work of art?

288: "all other strata are present in the work primarily for the purpose of appropriately representing objects. The object stratum itself, on the other hand, appears to exist within the literary work solely for itself." Our interest in reading centered in them. Literary studies centered on this too (and on the genesis of the work). This is a wrong prejudice. And the object stratum is not the ultimate one—> what about emotion or mood, ethical influence, instruction? For us: Does any other element emerge from the object stratum in the structure of the literary work of art itself? "Expression of an 'idea' apprehended by the author"? The object stratum should both simply be and do something [Cf. Kant's notion of a finality without end - JAGL]. "Idea", a trite formulation; true, pure rational meaning is only appropriate for tendentious literature.

48. Metaphysical Qualities (essences)

The tragic, the comic, the sublime, etc. Metaphysical qualities [—> He means AESTHETIC qualities - JAGL] are not present in things, nor is it a matter of a psychic state. —> Revelations which constitute the summit and depths of existence, as opposed to the gray everyday experiences (revelation is always positive, even when it is bad).. They are not definable, not rational —a "grace". —> Ecstatically seen, they cannot be invoked deliberately. In real life they overpower us. 243: "Art, in particular, can give us, at least in microcosm and as reflection, what we can never attain in real life: a calm contemplation of metaphysical qualities." Hebbel's notion of art as "realized philosophy".


49. Metaphysical qualities in a literary work of art

293: "The most important function that represented objective situations can perform is in exhibiting and manifesting determinate metaphysical qualities."  —> But this is done through the manner of presentation. A metaphysical shortcoming (irreality) precisely enables the work to manifest metaphysical qualities. They are not realized there, but concretized and revealed, analogous to real existence. "This ontic heteronomy, however, enables us to contemplate them relatively calmly." — "Distance". [Aesthetic distance, cf. Bullough—JAGL]. 295: "The 'distance' of which we speak here rests only on the unique phenomenon of 'not belonging to the same world' and brings with it the impossibility of genuine participation in the represented situatio"— 295: their observation does not bring about those changes in us that true realizations do. Cf. Aristotle's catharsis: relief and inner calm after difficult events requiring our exertion. Qualities may be fulfilled or only announced, etc.

50. Is the manifestation of metaphysical qualities truly a function of the object stratum?

Are metaphysical qualities merely moments of the represented world, like objects? No: they are not directly determined by sentence meanings. 296: "What is remarkable is precisely the fact that, although metaphysical qualities can quite easily be intended in pure meaning units, this in itself, however, is not enough for them to be manifested." —> Other strata must cooperate —> They emerge from the structure of the work, from its organic unity. Metaphysical qualities are held in readiness—not manifested in the work, but in its concretization. The polyphonic harmony of the levels must require the appearance of metaphyisical qualities. Otherwise, the work is not perfect. 

51. The symbolizing function of the object stratum

Revelation as distinct from the symbolizing function of the object stratum (in some works), 299: "a function which does not absolutely belong to the essence of a literary work of art." Symbol and symbolical belong to different worlds, and what is symbolized cannot attain self-presentation—it is not directly knowable. The symbol is only a means, whereas an objective revelative situation is also an end in itself. Another function of the object stratum is the representation of the real world.

52. The problem of the "truth" and the problem of the "idea" of a literary work of art

Analysis of "truth". The work of art is not "true" in most of the senses of the word, but it is true in other senses: "good reproduction" (in the case of historical works), "objective consistence" (which need not be maintained in all works), and also when metaphysical qualities are manifested. —> In all cases, "truth" is not indispensable. The notion of the "Idea" as true proposition is shallow, a misunderstanding of the work of art. It is not found in the work nor is deducible from it. 303: "For a true proposition cannot follow from sentences that are not genuine judicative propositions". Idea as non-conceptual: 304: "in this sense the 'idea' of a work is based on the essential connection brought to intuitive self-givenness, that exists between a determinate represented life-situation, taken as culminating phase of a development preceding it, and a metaphysical quality that manifests itself in that life-situation and draws its unique coloration from its content". —> The work is grasped as a creation that is of one piece.


53. Conclusion of the analysis of the strata

304: "The cross-section of the structure of the literary work must now be followed by a longitudinal section." 





XI. THE ORDER OF SEQUENCE IN A LITERARY WORK

54. Introduction: alteration or destruction of the work through the transposition of the parts

A work has a beginning and end, like a musical work. As to Conrad's view of literature as a "temporal art": (305) "As plausible as this may appear at first, it is false, and arises from the confusion of the literary work itself with its concretisations, which are constituted when the work is read" (...). True, "we can apprehend literary works only in a temporally extended process." But this does not mean that the work itself is extended. (305): "if this conception were true, we would have to attribute different temporal extensions to one and the same work according to the length of given readings". The work itself exists simultaneously. "Earlier" and "later" parts of the work, "beginning" and "end" (not of events) are not to be understood as temporal; it is, rather, and "order of sequence". (The inversion of the parts produces nonsense).

55. The meaning of the sequence of parts of a literary work

Their order is not concrete time, but an ideal objectivity. 310n: "One should not (...) confuse the time form of that is represented with the particular order (now being investigated) of the sequence of parts of the whole work". Every phrase (except the first one) contains elements founded in a previous phase, independent elements, and elements which found a subsequent  phrase. This founding is one-directional;  (312:) "that one should distinguish between them follows already from the fact that a 'later phase of a literary work frequently represents a situation which is earlier in time" (e.g. "removing spots of indeterminacy"). Present, past and future have a meaning in the represented time, but not in the phases of the work. (JAGL: ¿¿?? Questionable.). The phrase structure dictates the internal dynamics of the work: fadeouts, culminating phrases, etc.; an increase and decrease of tension. (313): "It must be noted, however, that each stratum of the literary work of art can present its own internal dynamics, so that the culminating phase in one stratum need not necessarily correspond to the culminating phase of the other strata. [Ingarden ignores the notion of the time of narration vs. the time of the action, etc. - JAGL]


PART III . SUPPLEMENTATION AND CONCLUSIONS



XII. BORDERLINE CASES

56. Introduction

57. The Stage Play

A play is distinct from individual performances of the same; but it is not the same case as that of different readings of the work. The projection function of stage directions is taken in, and there is representation by real objectivities—which represent the objectivities inside the work—> aspects are constituted by the properties of these objects. Words (i.e. representation through states of affairs projected by sentences) become here subordinated to images. "Reports" are a drawback in drama. The stage play is a new work with respect to the "text": two different forms. A borderline case, not a purely literary work, but a stratified structure is present; the strata of sound and meaning are similar; there is a comparable polyphony; quasi-judgements apply too, like the metaphysics of the work, the sequence of parts, etc. Cf. the transition from drama to other media like silent cinema, pantomime, painting...

58. The cinematographic drama (the film)

We find a stratum of visual aspects and a stratum of objectivities (there is no stratum of meaning units). The aspects in the stratum of visual aspects are not schematized in the same way as in literature. Difficulty for the expression of thought and emotions in film: emotion is foregrounded over thought. Possibility of enlarging the image, redering more perceptible (faces etc.) the emphasis must be placed on visual events—Vs. the parasitism of film on literature. The stratum of aspects is more significant aesthatically than that of objectivities. But abstract cinema would be a different kind of art.  A simpler polyphony in film: the film is not a literary work, though it is related to the literary work. Pure intentionality is possible when actors or objectivities play a role (—> a new theory of the image).

59. The pantomime, (etc.).

60. The scientific work. The simple report.

Differences with literary works are connected to the different role played—cognitive, communicative. True judgements appear (which may be true or false in themselves, but they lay claims to truthfulness).  States of affairs and represented objectivities point too: the work points here to real states of affairs through the purely intentional ones, which are transparent. Polyphony is dispensable; the aim is a cognitive one. Schematized aspects are only a means for the transmission of cognitive results. Metaphysical qualities are present in these works only when they are the subject of the work or contribute to it.







XIII. THE "LIFE" OF A LITERARY WORK


61. Introduction

Up to now the work has been treated in itself—now we'll treat the contact with readers and cultural life. The notion of the schematic nature of the work pointed to this; the holding-in-readiness (Parathaltung) too. The work is not the same as its concretizations. (322:) "a distinction should be drawn between the work itself and its concretizations, which differ from it in various respects. These concretizations are precisely what is constituted during the reading and what, in a manner of speaking, forms the mode of appearance of a work, the concrete form in which the work itself is apprehended".  (Vs. Conrad's conception of "realization"). 

62. The concretizations of a literary work and the experience of its apprehension

The concretization is not the same as the psychological experiences that we have during the reading. (323:) "if the reader submits to the work, exactly those aspects are experienced whose schemata were held ready by the work". The complexity of the reading experience is linked to the complexity of the work. Attention is given to only some elements; the rest are only coexperienced. 334: the literary work is never fully grasped in all its strata and component but always only partially, always, so to speak, in only a perspectival foreshortening." The concretization is dependent on both the work and the conditions of the reading (which may give rise to different concretizations).  Reading as blindness to the real world, and "aloofness from our own surroundings"; 325: "attitude of pure beholding with respect to the represented objectivities." —> an aesthetic attitude is achieved. 335: "Nonetheless, not only the work itself but each of its concretizations is different from these experiences of apprehension". The concretization has two ontic bases: the work, and the reading experience. 336: "and with respect to the experiences of apprehension, it is just as transcendent as the literary work itself". It is not apprehendable only as inner perception (like psychic things). —But we do not reflect on our mind when making concretizations. 336: "Only a theorizing literary critic could hit upon the bizarre idea of looking for the literary work 'in the mind' of the reader."


63. The literary work and its concretizations

336: "We can deal aesthetically with a literary work and apprehend it live only in the form of one of its possible concretizations. (336-37: "but not a cloak covering the work"). "The individual differences between concretizations already enable us to establish what belongs to the work itself and what pertains to the accidentally conditioned concretizations". [Not so clear - JAGL]. We usually are unaware of the difference. 337: "The concretization not only contains various elements that are not only contain various elements that are not really part of the work, though allowed by it, but also frequently shows elements that are foreign to it and which more or less obscure it". 

1- In the work, sounds have Gestalt qualities (phonemes, etc.). In the concretization, they are concrete sounds. 

2- Word meanings are intermingled with unspecifiable meaning components [connotations, etc.] —> they may produce deviations, etc.—> Creation of a new work, even.

3- Actual intending of sentence meanings.

4- 338: "The most radical differences between a literary work and its concretizations appear in the aspect stratum. From mere preparedness (Parathaltung) and schematization in the work itself, aspects attain concreteness in the concretization and are raised to the level of perceptual experience (in the case of a stage play) or imaginational experience (in a reading)" —> concrete elements fill out schema. Prescribed to a certain degree, but "any two concretizations of one and the same work must differ from each other". Unforeseeable: for instance, the predominance of a type of aspect not prescribed in the work itself may come about, a new style, even a new work? [340: "the so-called subjectivity of criticism or literary history undoubtedly comes about only when the critics focus solely on the changing concretizations of the work. But this is precisely what is not necessary"].  The work may be hidden for centuries in a falsifying concretization—> pro the notion of a true interpretation. Polyphony changes—> a historical "life" of the work.  

5- An explicit appearance of represented objectivities takes place only in the concretization.  

6- Removal of spots of indeterminacy in the concretization. Objects appear fuller, but in principle (341:) "the objects cannot be completed in any concretization; i.e., spots of indeterminacy will always remain in the represented objects—> Essence of purely intentional objects. An illusion to a certain extent, we identify them with real objects and see them complete. 341: "We are then almost inclined to believe in their reality, and yet, due to the aesthetic attitude, we never believe this with complete seriousness"—> this disposition, necessary for authentic enjoyment,is necessarily linked to the quasi-judgmental modification of assertive propositions. If we are fully conscious of fiction, the work fails. Likewise with absolute illusion. 

7- A particular order of sequence in the work is transformed in the concretization into a sequence in phenomenal, concrete time. 


64. The "life" of a literary work in its concretizations, and its transformation as a result of changes in the latter

Life understood as change and development, a maturing of possibilities. 345: "As a purely intentional object, the literary work of art need not partake in the events of the real world and be drawn into their flow" but "the literary work can undergo changes without ceasing to be the same work." All these operations come from outside the work (not caused by it) and can be realized only in a concretization. Two senses of "life": 346: "(1) the literary work 'lives' while it is expressed in a manifold of concretizations; (2) the literary work 'lives' while it undergoes change as a result of ever new concretizations appropriately formed by conscious subjects." 

(1). Concretizations develop in time, and influence each other, "nor is it precluded that retro-action may occur." (348:) Our early inadequate reading conditions later readings; tendencies in embryo develop, etc. Different ages are given to one kind or other of understanding; this is possible because of the schematic structure of the literary work. Training may be necessary to achieve an adequate reading —> criticism points out ways to concretize, transmits a concretization. [Note: Usually this report has the form of information concerning the work itself, since the informer is not aware of the difference between the work and its individual concretization.] A similar case is the staging of a work by a director. A shift, then: the performance undergoes a concretization. Readers are under the influence of a "literary atmosphere".  The "trend of the times" is evident in the readings and the productions of a given moment. —> The life of the work in its concretizations is related to the atmosphere of the given era. There is a childhood, maturity, old age and death of the work in its concretizations: a success and decline of interest in a work, resurrections, etc. The concretization does not react to cultural influences, it only undergoes changes. The work "controls" it, but "If worse comes to worst, it would not be a concretization of the given work but a pure product of subjective operations," the first concretization of an entirely new work. This is caused by its ontic heteronomy as well as by the discontinuity between a concretization and the work itself.

(2). Second case. The work itself undergoes changes as a result of these changes in concretizations (its sole link to human life). Adding or substracting may be done consciously, but there are also unintentional changes: "Such a change can occur when, in a simple apprehension of the work, the reader—as is usually the case—is not conscious either of the fortuitousness of a given concretization or of those points in which it materially and necessarily differs from the work, or, finally, of the concretization as something to be contrasted to the work itself. As a result, he absolutizes that given concretization, identifies it with the work, and in a naïve way directs himself intentionally to the work thus intended." This is not a critical attitude, rather a violation of the work. 

Concretizations go beyond the work—> it seems to be fuller and more substantial than it is. The life of the work becomes enriched or impoverished, etc. Death and rebirth of works. Any limits to their identity? This depends on each work. But a work can undergo change without losing its identity, as it is not an ideal object. Let us examine its ontic position.





XIV. THE ONTIC POSITION OF A LITERARY WORK 

65. Introduction

The literary work is not an ideal objectivity, nor a psychic experience. But does it not seem to dissolve in its concretizations, to be an abstraction obtained from them? Which are the guarantees of its intersubjective identity? Only the physical signs common to all?  And, if there is no ontic autonomy, how does the work exist when it is not read by anyone? This problem is common to any kind of work (whether literary or not) made of propositions. There is a need to justify intersubjective knowledge and communication; a need to demonstrate that "sentences and complexes of sentences possess intersubjective identity and have a mode of existence that is heteronomous with respect to conscious acts" despite their ontic relativity to subjective operations.

66. The intersubjective identity of the sentence and the ontic basis of its existence


The work or the sentence is heteronomous from the act which constitutes it: it has its own basis in two entirely heterogeneous objectivities: ideal concepts (essences) and real word signs, and its source in intentional acts of the creating conscious subject. Ideal concepts are not component parts of the meaning content of a sentence or a sentence complex—they are their ontic basic and regulative principle but only appropriate moments are selected in them. An ontically heteronomous actualization is  brought about and thy are united in a new whole. This is the basis of the ontically heteronomous mode of existence of the work. So, both ideal concepts and subjective operations are transcendent with respect to the work or sentence. The act of consciousness is not creative, it uses ideal meanings, actualises them and makes wholes. Of course, (362:) "In a strict, ontically autonomous sense, the intentionally created thing 'is' not, e.g., 'red'. For it to be that, it would really [reell] have to contain a genuine realization of the essence 'redness'. It is precisely this inclusion, the immanence of the realization of an ideal essence in an objectivity, and, on the other hand, the realization itself, which the pure conscious act cannot produce. It never goes beyond the simulated quasi-inclusion described above, the quasi-realization which, on the one hand, refers to the intentional sic iubeo of the conscious subject and, on the other, to the corresponding ideal essence." Actualization and realization are not the same. It is not that the work is ontically autonomous from the intentional act, it is ontically heteronomous. This makes it possible to accept its intersubjective existence. Readers reactualize meanings with reference to ideal concepts. Linguistic communication is dependent on ideal concepts —> sentences with identical meaning content may in principle be reconstituted.  365: "We believe that in this way we have overcome the danger of subjectivizing the literary work or of reducing it to a manifold of concretizations. But we have done so only by accepting the existence of ideal concepts." At least as a hypothesis.

67. The identity of the phonetic stratum of the literary work

The sounds of language are not ideal essences, but historic formations. But they are intersubjectively established to a certain fixity. 366: "The word sounds that are actually expressed are an objectively existing entity in which the typical formations attain genuine concretization." These are fixed in a material sign—the third ontic basis of the literary work. All three must be present for the the ontically heteronomous existence of the work. But while sentences are part of the work, neither real graphic material or typical letters are: instead, they are regulative signals. 368: "despite the indisputable fact of its 'life', the literary work cannot be psychologized." 




XV. CONCLUDING REFLECTIONS ON THE LITERARY WORK OF ART


68. The literary work of art and the polyphonic harmony of its aesthetic value qualities


369: "The polyphonic harmony is precisely that 'side' of the literary work that, along with the metaphysical qualities, attaining manifestation, makes the work a work of art." —> The harmony is not a separate stratum that cuts across the rest (nor a separate object —> It is not itself the work of art). The harmony cannot be detached from the elements of the individual strata. On non-aesthetic readings, as opposed to the notion of work, of polyphony, etc. But the work in itself is a schematic formation, with elements in potentiality. 372: "These two circumstances have as their consequence the fact that at least some, if not all aesthetic value qualities and the metaphysical qualities in the work do not attain, themselves, full development but remain in a latent state of 'predeterminacy' and 'holding in readiness'. Only when the literary work of art attains adequate expression in a concretization is there—in an ideal case—a full establishment, an intuitive exhibition of all these qualities". And the metaphysical qualities of the work exist only in realization. 372: "It follows, therefore, that the literary work of art constitutes an aesthetic object only when it is expressed in a concretization" (but the concretization is not an aesthetic object). Paradoxical nature of the work of art: it is an existing living and enriching thing, and yet a nothing. Heteronomy. 377: "It is a 'nothing' and yet a wonderful world in itself—even though it comes into being and exists only by our grace." 





APPENDIX

The Functions of Language in the Theater

from  Zagadnienia rodzajów literackich (The Problem of Literary Genres), Lodz, 1958, vol. 1. 

Central problem: language is an element of the world represented in the stage play, but its role goes beyond that. [Podríamos decir, siguiendo a Ingarden, que el lenguaje, o cualquier otro elemento del mundo representado, tiene por tanto una dimensión paradójica o metaléptica, cruzando virtualmente las barreras de la ficción, en tanto que funciona a dos niveles - JAGL] It must perform the linguistic function of representation, together with visual aspects. There are three different domains in represented world with respect to the basis and means of their representation. objectivities presented visually; or visually and linguistically, or linguistically (offstage). Among these, the past (vs. the present). Also past objectivities related to present ones (2).  Functions of language (cf. Bühler, etc.: representation, expression, communication and influencing). An analogous classification is traceable to Twardowski (1894). Functions:

1) Representation: Either conceptually, or through evoked imaginational aspects. It completes the concrete visual aspects. 

2) Expression of psychical states and experiences of persons. This must be related to the gestures and facial expressions of actors.

3) Communication (inside the play). Exception: monologues.

4) (382:) "A conversation between two persons deals very seldom with mere communication: it has to do with something more vital, i. e., with influencing the person addressed, in all the 'dramatic' conflicts which develop in the represented world of a play, speech directed at someone is always a form of action for the speaker and basically has real meaning for the events shown in the play only if it really and essentially advances the developing action. [note, 382: S. Swarozinska: direct and indirect characterization of characters (through speech): a "dramatic function" of language in drama" (drama as action). ]   [Cf. Todorov - JAGL]

A new perspective: The function of words not as directed to characters in the represented world, but with respect to the audience (Conrad). Open vs. closed stages (differences in audience involvement) - The closed stage is a fiction of the modern naturalistic theater. 

384: "In spite of this, this whole manner of composing the represented world and the actor's style is in fact tailored for an obser ver (but one who is thought of as being absent)". Nevertheless, there is an influence on the audience—> Aesthetic experience; the actor feigning unawareness of the effect on the audience. 

The problem: fulfilling all these functions successfully and harmoniously in very different situations, styles, genres...

Cases and modifications.

386: "words spoken by a represented person in a situation signify an act and hence constitute a part of the action, in particular in the confrontations between represented persons."

Speech must be harmonical with the rest of the speaker's behavior - or the contrast must be significant. The actor's acting must be taken into consideration at this point. 

The tone is realized by the actor, but it may be determined by the play (sincerity, insincerity...). 
"Active" discourse, with emotional involvement and intention of influencing behavior is the normal form of discourse in stage plays. Taking into account the content of what is said said and the manner of speaking ('tones' of speech).

Also, self-influencing of the speaker by his expression of himself: ripening of thoughts, etc. In silent thought, or in dialogue: 391: "By speaking with another person, we not only reveal ourselves to him—be he friend or foe—but to ourselves as well." 

393: "The same words have a manifold of functions with respect to, on the one hand, other represented persons, and, on the other, the real spectators."

[Still, Ingarden sees these functions as divorced from one another, he does not seem to see one as a medium for the other; there is no projection of the spectator on the listener]

—>Those words are not the same in every respect. They have a different ontic character [i.e. insofar as they are addressed to another character, and to the audience]. They are a reality for the character, they are represented for the audience.

(Ignoring here the aesthetic elaboration of words— singing, verse, etc.). Also, this refers to realistic drama; in fantasy, this may be different.

Harmony between these functions is the art of a great dramatist, but there is never a complete elimination of these different claims. 






Enunciación, ficción, y niveles semióticos en el texto narrativo
 



As I Lay Dying

Una lección sobre la novela de Faulkner As I Lay Dying en Yale, a cargo de Wai-Chee Dimock.



 

Ha sido hace poco el cincuentenario de la muerte de Faulkner. Yo lo leí bastante allá por los setenta y ochenta: Absalom, Absalom!, Light in August, The Sound and the Fury, Pylon, The Wild Palms, Sanctuary... y nada desde entonces. Qué feo, se supone que los profesores de literatura estamos siempre releyendo toda la producción mundial, simultáneamente. As I Lay Dying es la única novela sobre la que escribí algo, un trabajo para un máster en Brown.

Reflexivity in the Narrative Technique of As I Lay Dying




Novela con Twitter, y testamento vital

viernes, 27 de julio de 2012

Novela con Twitter, y testamento vital

No es que tenga mucho Twitter, pero es la primera vez que veo mencionada esta red social o herramienta en una novela. Es en Started Early, Took My Dog de Kate Atkinson (2010), bastante recomendable por lo general, casi más por los sentimientos y percepciones sobre la experiencia diaria, que por el conjunto de tramas convergentes.  Va sobre personajes desengañados de la vida que se van agarrando a lo que hay (un perro, una niña maltratada), y contrastando lo que las cosas eran con lo que son ahora. Por ejemplo, los musulmanes: "Antes los infieles eran ellos. Ahora somos nosotros."

Twitter, reciente ahora, más en 2010. Uno de los personajes, Tilly, vieja actriz con principio de Alzheimer, está fuera de contacto con sus colegas y con su mundo. Una del reparto pasa sus fotos por Twitter:

"Showed it to everyone Twittering on about it. Twitter! Her phone was never out of her hand. She twittered, she said. 'Do you?' Showed Tilly on her phone. A technological step too far. Tilly didn't even know how to turn a computer on, wrong generation, of course. Twittering just seemed to be people telling other people what they were doing—getting in the shower, making coffee. Who on earth wanted to know these things?
  barb wire  'Tweets,' Saskia said. Well exactly. Babble and twitter. Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. People couln't cope with empty space any more, they had to fill it up with anything that came to hand. There was a timewhen people kept their thoughts to themselves. Tilly liked that time. They had a blue budgerigar when she was small. Tweety-pie. It was hard to be fond of a budgerigar. Her father accidentally stood on it. Her mother said she didn't see how you could stand on a budgerigar. Too late now to get to the bottom of what had really happened. Tilly wanted to bury it but Father put it on the fire. A pyre. She could still see its little body, the feathers flaring. She hadn't particularly liked the bird but she had felt sorry for it and gave some time over to crying for it. Shame. Tilly didn't want to be cremated. Thrown on the fire. She should write that down somewhere, make a will, make it clear." (193).
 


Podría escribirse en Twitter, el testamento funerario—o el testamento vital, ya puestos. A mí por mi parte prefiero que me cremen a que me entierren (aunque en realidad me da más o menos parecido). Un asado de media hora, como Aquiles, mejor que siglos de slow decay. Y que nadie guarde ni las cenizas ni el bote de las cenizas, por favor, la identidad tiene una curiosa manera de transferirse de un objeto a otro virtualmente. Para identidad, ya dejamos bastantes rastros detrás, sin necesidad de dejar un cadáver. Libros, escritos, blogs, tweets Mientras duren—los tweets tienen la ventaja de ser efímeros, una vez se cierra el garito pour de bon.

Y por terminarlo de especificar brevemente, que no me mantengan con animación suspendida en el limbo del Innombrable, si me da el colapso súbito, o el entubado terminal. Bastante vida posthumana, y animación suspendida, y posts póstumos, dejamos ya en los escritos, para entretenimiento de la breve posteridad.

De todas formas con el personaje que más me identifico en la novela
—y la autora también tiene una debilidad por él—es con Jackson Brodie. No es de extrañar, está en mi quinta:

"He climbed back in the Saab and caught a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror. Someone slightly feral looked back. He hadn't shaved for several days and his hair flopped dirtily in his eyes. There was a lean and hungry look about him that he didn't recognize. At least he still had his own hair. Every guy you saw these days had shaved away his male-pattern baldness in a futile attempt to look hard rather than merely hairless. Jackson had recently turned fifty, a fact he still handn't entirely come to terms with. The golden years. (Yeah, right). 'A milestone,' Josie laughed as if it were a huge joke. He had avoided the birthday altogether, spending the weekend miserably on his own in Prague, side-stepping drunken English stag and hen parties. On his return he had set off on this journey.
    His definition of elderly had changed as he himself had moved nearer to the event horizon of death. When he was twenty, old people were forty. Now he was over the hill of his half-century the definition began to stretch towards something more yielding, but nonetheless once you hit fifty there was no escaping the fact that you had a one-way ticket on a non-stop service to the terminus.

    He drove off, aware that the barbecuing family were watching him all the way down the drive. He understood, he would have been wary of himself as well."


_____


—Metafísico estáis.
—Como se me han aparecido muchos fantasmas esta noche...



To Keep Our Metaphysics Warm