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Tecnologías de manipulación del tiempo


Cuando tenemos un rato libre, o nada que decir, podemos hablar del tiempo. Además llueve. A ver si decimos del tiempo algo que nadie haya dicho nunca: difícil, pero. Podemos tomar como punto de referencia (así me ha venido a la cabeza) estas minirrecopilaciones de artículos de biología sobre la representación temporal en The Loom ("Animal Time Travelers") y The Neurocritic ("Mental Time Travel"). Pasamos allí desde la percepción temporal de los pájaros, pasando por la de las ratas y la de los primates, hasta el tiempo complejo y variado de los hombres. Aunque dentro de estos, se da todo tipo de experiencia temporal acumulada en la evolución, desde el tiempo mínimo de la organización de las sensaciones presentes hasta el tiempo largo y complejo de un historiador o de un primate of the Church.

Si nuestro tiempo es complejo, es porque nuestra realidad es más compleja e inclusiva que la de los animales (—las plantas no creo que tengan tiempo para sí); y si nuestra realidad es más compleja es porque nuestro cerebro es más complejo, y viceversa. El cerebro (cuando no es una gelatina fría, o unos sesicos fritos) es un extraordinario generador de representaciones; una fábrica de realidades (a este cartesiano nivel de generalidad tanto da, realidad o representación). Entre ellas, genera distintos tipos de realidades o representaciones  temporales. El tiempo no está allí afuera, previo a la experiencia, o no lo está en un sentido en el que podamos hablar mucho de él. El tiempo tal como lo conocemos es una compleja relación entre representaciones generada y orquestada por el cerebro. O más bien toda una colección de esos sistemas complejos, pues como hemos visto, el tiempo del arrendajo no es el mismo que el del babuino o que el del humano. No viven en el mismo medio ambiente temporal que nosotros, pues no tienen nuestra capacidad de articular experiencias complejas (aunque estos estudios parecen señalar que va a haber que afinar mucho entre las capacidades propias de cada especie, pues mal se puede creer que los animales viven en un presente continuo indiferenciado). Los animales construyen representaciones de complejidad variable según sus capacidades, necesidades e intereses alimentarios, reproductivos, sociales sin duda... Aunque no se pueden comparar en complejidad a las experiencias temporales humanas.

Quizá los animales que viven más cerca del presente inmediato se acerquen más a la "realidad" del tiempo en un cierto sentido, en el sentido de que el transcurrir presente tiene una sustancialidad real que no tienen el pasado y el futuro—puros juegos de representaciones, éstos. En cualquier caso, lo que entendemos los humanos por "presente" poco tiene que ver con la experiencia del presente de los animales; nuestro presente es multidimensional y complejo también, pues muchos de sus aspectos están estructurados en relación al pasado y al futuro; nuestro presente está hecho con estos otros ingredientes menos sólidos. Y también con una variedad de aspectos verbales: el iterativo, el durativo, el repetitivo, el incoativo... A lo que voy es que nuestro tiempo no está meramente organizado como experiencias de un cerebro complejo, y de circuitos cerebrales especializados en la elaboración de la experiencia y la estructuración de la memoria, sino que está además estructurado por una serie de tecnologías complejas de manipulación temporal—empezando por el lenguaje.

La narración es una de esas herramientas o tecnologías de manipulación temporal: no es sólo un acto lingüístico (aunque algo tiene de eso a veces) sino una plataforma multimedia, una interfaz semiótica de manipulación temporal de lenguaje y representaciones de acciones (recuerdos). He ahí, en esta naturaleza mediadora y multimedia, una de las bases originarias de la división narratológica entre historia y discurso, o entre acción (nivel no verbal) y texto narrativo (nivel verbal), con distintas variaciones en distintas teorías narratológicas. He ahí también por qué tantos aspectos de la narración escapan a quienes estudian este fenómeno desde un punto de vista excesivamente disciplinar, ya partan de la literatura, del cine, o de la lingüística.

La narración se apoya, originariamente, en los rituales de interacción social esperados y esperables (estructuras no verbales de la acción), y por otra en la representación lingüística. Voz y gesto, también en el origen de la narración, como en el origen del lenguaje, son elementos originarios y también en permanente reestructuración mutua, en interacción continuada y complejificada a lo largo de su desarrollo histórico.

Otras tecnologías narrativas se han sumado al lenguaje, con el desarrollo cultural que ha permitido la elaboración de narraciones en imágenes. Las primeras tal vez puedan encontrarse en las paredes de las cavernas, en interacción con el ritual y la palabra, pero apenas podemos intuir allí su dimensión narrativa. No es que sea precisa una secuencia de imágenes para crear una narración en imágenes, pues muchas narraciones tempranas (y tardías) recurren a la síntesis iconográfica de distintos momentos significados en una sola imagen significante. Ahora bien, el desarrollo de la tecnología de la imagen pasa por la elaboración de complejas secuencias representacionales, y, en el caso del cine, por el ajuste preperceptual y mecanizado entre la acción representada y el texto de la representación. La experiencia del cine enfatiza el carácter narrativo de nuestra experiencia vital, nos hace más conscientes de la multidimensionalidad y manipulabilidad del tiempo.

El cine es, por supuesto, una de nuestras más elaboradas máquinas del tiempo. (Aunque le están vedados muchos matices propios de la estructuración de la narrativa escrita...). Más allá de la tecnología de película química, bobinas, focos y carretes, está la tecnología de la estructuración narrativa—la ligazón entre narración, punto de vista, experiencia presente, flashback, tensión argumental...donde tantos elementos tiene en común el cine con la narración literaria. Más que en un nuevo modelo de objetivo, o una nueva técnica de generación de imagen, es en una nueva figura semiótica o narrativa donde hay que buscar un desarrollo de la tecnología de manipulación temporal. Mediante una alusión intertextual, mediante un uso de imágenes dentro de imágenes...  se engarzan entre sí experiencias temporales (acumuladas en esas imágenes previas, tiempo sedimentado que se usa como ingrediente en la nueva imagen) y se crean nuevas experiencias de percepción  y representación temporal, antes inexistentes. O raras, o poco subrayadas. Porque no hay una frontera clara entre lo inexistente, lo mal percibido o deficientemente articulado, y lo poco difundido (por ser marginal o estar en fase experimental). El cine educa al ojo y al cerebro a ver cosas que antes no se veían, y a establecer relaciones temporales que antes no se establecían—vale tanto como decir, a vivir en un tiempo que no existía antes del cine. En esto, como en todo, miramos desde hombros de gigantes.

Y lo mismo sucede con cualquier tecnología de manipulación narrativa, de imágenes o lenguaje. Un libro es el lenguaje de los muertos que quiere perdurar; la escritura tiene algo de fúnebre. Pero gracias a ella sigue viva, o existe siquiera, la historia pasada. La historia, lejos de tener la sustancia depositada casi en estratos sólidos que le atribuimos a veces, es un puro juego comunicativo, complejo eso sí, un gigantesco sistema de disciplinas que regulan la representación del tiempo, sus imágenes, textos, valoraciones... un artefacto semiótico-narrativo para experiencias temporales complejas.

Y cada vez más complejas, a medida que se desarrollan nuevas modalidades, nuevas tecnologías, nuevos usos y protocolos de representación y estructuración temporal. Antes, por ejemplo, podíamos tener nostalgia por el pasado sólo; ahora podemos sentir también nostalgia por el futuro. El futuro (no realizado) del pasado, o el pasado del futuro todavía futuro para nosotros; el efecto directo, o la distorsión retrospectiva (hindsight bias)... son otras tantas experiencias de temporalidad compleja desarrolladas mediante la manipulación semiótica práctica, y la elaboración teórica que la acompaña.

Últimamente vivimos un frenesí tecnológico de tratamiento de la imagen y la palabra, y por tanto vivimos en un tiempo descolocado, múltiple, disperso y un tanto impredecible, time out of joint. El teléfono (móvil), pongamos: transforma nuestro uso del lenguaje y la presencia, por tanto también nuestra manera de vivir el tiempo. O también aquí, en esta cosa misma que llamamos blog, se ha transformado la relación entre el tiempo y el lenguaje, gracias a la herramienta física; y queda ese nuevo horizonte de posibles experiencias esperando nuevas herramientas conceptuales que lleven esa iniciativa más lejos, y nos hagan vivir en un tiempo más complejo. ¿Cuándo ha estado una conversación abierta de esta manera durante años? No así, y no tanto como ahora. El tiempo global, colectivo, ya no sólo el de unos pocos, se va haciendo más complejo con las tecnologías de manipulación temporal.

Blogs como literatura
 


 

Linguistics and Persuasive Communication

The XIV Susanne Hübner international seminar, "Linguistics and persuasive communication", will take place in Zaragoza,14-17 November 2007.

CALL FOR PAPERS:

The XIV Susanne Hübner international seminar (Department of English and German philology, University of Zaragoza, Spain), will welcome paper proposals in the traditional disciplines of linguistics as well as in neighbouring disciplines insofar as these are deemed to be of interest to linguists and students of natural language.

With Plenary lectures and papers as its main Scientific Events, this international seminar aims to focus on the ways in which Linguistics and persuasive communication matter in the realms of language, higher education, literature and the arts, culture, history and sociology, etc., transnationally and globally.

The following list of topics (proposals for 20 minute papers) is meant to be suggestive rather than restrictive; we welcome inter/transdisciplinary proposals:

- Linguistics and linguistic diversity.

- Cognitive linguistics and higher education (language as an instrument for
organizing, processing and conveying information in the context of the European
Space for HE).

- Linguistics and ESP (English for specific purposes)

- Linguistics and literature,

- Linguistics, media and arts

- Applied Linguistics

- Rethinking persuasive communication (does rhetoric face new challenges in the 21st century?).

- Cultural production and persuasive communication (literature, film, visual art, performance, music, blog-culture, web-art, etc.).

- Persuasive communication, language learning and language acquisition.


We welcome proposals for 20 minute papers -with a 150-word abstract  (including 3-5 keywords).

DEADLINE FOR PROPOSALS: 29 April 2007.

Further details

Scientific committee:

Professor Jane Arnold (University of Sevilla-Spain)
Professor Francisco Fernández (University of Valencia-Spain).
Dr José Ángel García Landa (University of Zaragoza-Spain).
Professor John Joseph (University of Edinburgh-UK)
Dr Purificación Ribes (University of Valencia-Spain).

Opening lecture: "English Lexicology & Lexicography Today: The heritage of 20th century linguistics", by Professor F. Fernández (University of Valencia-Spain).

Registration Fees:

Deadline for payment of registration fee is July 5, 2007

Participants:  70 Euros (90 Euros beyond the deadline for payment)

Students:  25 Euros (30 Euros beyond the deadline for payment)

XIV Susanne Hübner international seminar, "Linguistics and persuasive
communication" Key Dates:

Deadline for submission of paper abstracts is 29 April 2007 (to be sent to martacl@unizar.es)
Notification of acceptance will be sent by June 30, 2007
Deadline for payment of registration fee is July 5, 2007
Deadline for receipt of full papers is September 3, 2007
Seminar starts/finishes: 14-17 November 2007.

For further details, please contact the organizing committee:

Dr Marta Conejero López (coordinator),
martacl@unizar.es
Department of English and German Philology,
University of Zaragoza (Spain).
C/. Pedro Cerbuna, 12. 50009 Zaragoza (Spain).

Netiqueta, Cortesía, Estrategia y Sabiduría
 


PSOEicoanálisis de la Castración Transcendental

Me tiene un poco intrigado la jurisprudencia semiótico-sexual del gobierno Zapatero. Leía últimamente la Ley para la Igualdad Efectiva de Hombres y Mujeres—menos portentosa de lo que su título permitiría suponer, puesto que (de manera sólo aparentemente paradójica) descansa esa igualdad en la desigualdad.  Hombres y mujeres han de ser iguales, y ha de asegurarse su igualdad por ley... precisamente porque no son iguales. Lo que produce, sin embargo, toda una serie de interesantes paradojas...  Asegurada la igualdad por ley, y prohibida la discriminación por razón de sexo, ¿no sería la propia ley (de igualdad) ilegal, al hacer referencia a hombres y a mujeres, términos prohibidos por la ley? Si (por ejemplo) hay que asegurar la presencia equilibrada de hombres y mujeres en un tribunal, ¿no estamos introduciendo un criterio de discriminación sexual a la hora de nombrar miembros/as (members) para ese tribunal—y presuponiendo quizá, hecho injustificable, que esos miembros y miembras votan por preferencias sexuales y no estrictamente disciplinarias—lo cual nos conduce a un regressus in absurdum?

No dudo de que la Ley para la Igualdad Efectiva de Hombres y Mujeres vaya a hacer mucho bien, y mucho mal también seguramente, dando una vuelta de tuerca más a la interpretación. Como lo haría, sin lugar a dudas, una Ley con el mismo título pero más radical, que eliminase definitivamente las categorías "hombre" y "mujer" de la legislaciónuna opción sin duda tentadora para el legislador, pero que se toparía mucho más de narices con la realidad. Aquí, como siempre, la diferencia sexual nos lleva a su perpetuación y proliferación, en el acto mismo de intentar controlarla o suprimirla.

En lugar de esa utópica supresión, esta ley ha de entenderse en conjunción con otras leyes de política sexual del gobierno, como la reforma de la ley del matrimonio (con el famoso "matrimonio unisexual"), y la ley de identidad sexual (o "transexualidad sin operación"). Son operaciones semióticas que abandonan decididamente el terreno del sexo para adentrarse a abonar el terreno de su representación semiótica o género. Podríamos decir por tanto que presuponen estas operaciones (virtuales) una teoría de la representación, toda una semiótica de la identidad, y de la referencialidad; una semiótica postmoderna radical, que es lo que designo como el "PSOEicoanálisis de la Castración Transcendental". En sustancia, se trata de eliminar el sustrato referencial del signo, y dejarlo en su valor puramente representacional, como un significante flotante que no refiere sino a sí mismo. Es una teoría del Falo Semiótico Identitario desgajado de toda apoyatura corporal—de ahí el nuevo sentido recargado que adquiere aquí la noción psicoanalítica de castración. Hombre y mujer devienen meros disfraces genéricos (si no lo eran ya), efectos de maquillaje sobre un cuerpo indefinido y plásticamente moldeable por la semiosis, el maquillaje, la cirujía y la ley, en un totum revolutum de semiosis identitaria en vuelo libre. Esta flotación dada a los signos tiene, cómo no, consecuencias más amplias para toda interpretación (textual, situacional).

Estoy releyendo (en Muller y Richardsdon, The Purloined Poe) las oscuras especulaciones de Lacan y Derrida a cuenta del cuento de Poe "La carta robada". Es una batalla por la interpretación donde Poe es sólo parte del campo de batalla; otra parte es Freud. En efecto, Lacan sugiere que la carta robada del cuento, la que tiene a todo el mundo a vueltas con los secretos político-sexuales que oculta, y que está escondida a la vista de todo el mundo (como su sentido quizá)—esa carta es una alegoría o efecto textual de la lógica freudiana del Falo como efecto simbólico constituido por (y constituyente de) la diferencia sexual.

En palabras de Barbara Johnson, que reinterpreta las interpretaciones de Lacan y Derrida, existe el peligro, en la explicación freudiana, de llegar por medio de este Falo Semiótico a una síntesis armoniosa del deseo—algo que nunca puede darse por hecho ni por seguro:

El proceso se centra en el falo como el lugar de ubicación del lugar de la diferencia sexual; cuando la observación de la falta de pene de la madre se une a la amenaza de castración del padre como castigo por el incesto, la criatura pasa de la alternativa (tesis frente a antítesis; presencia frente a ausencia de pene) a la síntesis (el falo como señal del hecho de que la criatura puede entrar en el circuito del deseo sólo asumiendo la castración como la presencia y ausencia simultánea del falo; es decir, asumiendo la castración como la presencia y ausencia simultánea del falo, es decir, asumiendo el hecho de que tanto el sujeto como el objeto de deseo serán siempre sustitutos de algo que nunca estuvo realmente presente. (Barbara Johnson 224)


O, por decirlo en palabras del propio Derrida, el falo

no puede desempeñar su papel sino velado, es decir, en tanto que siendo él mismo signo de la latencia que aflige a cualquier objeto significable desde el momento en que queda elevado (aufgehoben) a la función de significante.
El falo es el significado de esta Aufhebung misma que inaugura (inicia) con su desaparición. (Derrida, en Barbara Johnson 224).


Me desagradan en realidad este tipo de especulaciones semiótico-psicoanalíticas que vienen a fundar la inauguración de  toda significación en la diferencia sexual; tienen, creo, las prioridades mal puestas, por establecer prioridades (entre sexualidad y significación) allá donde no hay prioridades. Para mí, sexualidad y significación se constituyen por la articulación y complejificación de signos, y signos de signos, pero no hay manera creíble de fundar un origen de la significación en el falo—parece un poquito interesado u obsesivo de más, ese interés, un poco como si el investigador o psicoanalista quisiera asegurar la importancia trascendental de su falo—y la teoría se convierte a la vez en síntoma de lo que pretende explicar.

Pero hay que concederles que en tanto que teorías de la diferencia sexual al menos se ocupan de un pequeño objeto al que se concede una importancia transcendental en la simbología social y en la organización del orden humano. Sirva eso de justificación para la atención pasajera que les prestamos—a estas teorías y al Objeto en cuestión.

Dicho esto, volvamos a la crítica derrideana de la fálica teoría de Lacan—a lo que podríamos llamar la falibilidad del falo.

La carta robada, alegoría del significante, es una alegoría del falo transcendental. Esta teoría, como bien señala Barbara Johnson, ya estaba bien desarrollada en la lectura de Poe que hace Marie Bonaparte (la freudiana literalista por excelencia) de la que se burla Lacan:

Para Bonaparte, era precisamente la analogía entre la chimenea y el cuerpo femenino lo que llevaba a la función fálica de la carta. El falo se consideraba un referente real, anatómico, que servía como modelo para una representación figurativa. El marco de referencia de Bonaparte, pues, era la referencia misma.
   Para Derrida, sin embargo, el marco de referencia del falo es la manera en que la "teoría psicoanalítica" conserva el status referencial del falo en el mismo acto de negarlo. Comentando la la discusión de Lacan en "El Significado del Falo", Derrida escribe:
El falogocentrismo es una cosa. Y lo que se llama hombre y lo que se llama mujer podrían estar sometidos a él. Tanto más, se nos recuerda, cuanto que el falo no es ni una fantasía ("efecto imaginario") ni un objeto ("parcial, interno, bueno, malo"), aún menos el órgano, pene o clítoris, que simboliza [Lacan, 1969, 690]. El androcentrismo debería pues ser otra cosa.
Y sin embargo, ¿qué sucede? Todo el falogocentrismo se articula sobre el punto de partida de una determinada situación (demos a esta palabra todo su peso) en la que el falo es el deseo de la madre en tanto en cuanto no lo tiene. Una situación (individual, perceptual, local, cultural, histórica, etc.) sobre la base de la cual se elabora una cosa llamada "una teoría sexual": en ella el falo no es el órgano, pene o clítoris, que simboliza; pero en gran medida y en primer lugar sí simboliza el pene. . . .  Había que seguir la pista a esta consecuencia para reconocer el sentido [dirección, sens] de la carta robada en la "trayectoria que le es propia" (1975a, 98-99).
Así, dice Derrida, es la misma no-referencialidad del falo, en última instancia, la que asegura que sea el pene su referente. (Barbara Johnson, 239, trad. mía)


De aquí extraen Derrida y Johnson la necesaria interdependencia entre el sentido del signo y el marco de interpretación aplicado, un marco de interpretación que siempre deja huellas, haciéndose así vulnerable a una interpretación posterior.

Parece pues que el marco de referencia teórico que gobierna el reconocimiento es un elemento constitutivo de la ceguera de toda lucidez interpretativa. El marco de referencia permite que el analista deje atrapado en su montaje (frame) al autor del texto que está leyendo, como culpable de prácticas cuyo lugar de ubicación está a la vez más allá de la letra del texto y más allá de la visión de su lector. El lector queda atrapado en el marco de su propio montaje, pero ni siquiera está en posesión de su propia culpa, ya que es lo que impide que su visión coincida consigo misma. Al igual que el autor de un montaje criminal (frame) transfiere la culpa de sí a otra persona dejando señales que espera sean leídas como huellas o referentes del otro, insuficientemente borrados, así el autor de cualquier crítica queda él mismo atrapado en el montaje que monta para el otro, por muy culpable o inocente que pueda ser el otro. (Barbara Johnson 240)


Y así nuestras propias interpretaciones nos retratan, y nos hacen, y transforman el objeto interpretado. (Presenté un análisis ligeramente distinto de esta sucesión de marcos o montajes interpretativos, también con referencia a Poe/Lacan, en este artículo: "Retroactive Thematization, Interaction and Interpretation: The Hermeneutic Spiral from Schleiermacher to Goffman").

Aplicación, en síntesis, a la Semiótica Gubernamental, y corto ya el rollo:

Primero, que la impulsión de la diferencia sexual en el orden político reduciéndola al orden de categoría no natural, sino meramente institucional (con el matrimonio unisexual, con la ley de identidad sexual) supone lo que Baudrillard llamaría una satelización de la semiosis, jugando a su propio juego, volviendo la relación entre el Falo y el Pene todavía más indirecta, semiotizada e indeterminada, problematizando el orden sexual preexistente en la Humanidad...

– y por tanto, (Segundo) es un ejercicio descontextualizado de semiosis en vuelo libre, que corre el peligro de volverse intraducible a las categorías semiótico-sexuales utilizadas por el resto del mundo.

Tercero, que la interpretación que se haga de esta purloined letter, de este pequeño objeto a, no es en ningún caso neutral, sino que está ella misma situada (—no hay metalenguaje—) y sitúa a su vez a quien la interprete. Es (obviamente) un objeto de debate que es transformado por el mismo debate,  y sitúa y transforma a quienes debaten.

Cuarto, que aún está por explorar la conexión entre este vuelo libre de la semiosis y la hermenéutica textual del gobierno, en concreto su hermenéutica jurídica. Sólo dos notas en este sentido:

a) La ley del matrimonio unisexual se basó, en efecto, en una hermenéutica textual en vuelo libre, desgajada de elementos tales como la intención del legislador, el contexto habitual de interpretación, o la tradición histórica: pasó a presuponerse que la Constitución garantizaba el derecho al matrimonio unisexual, cuando una interpretación más contextualizada históricamente hubiera interpretado lo contrario, a saber, que la Constitución presuponía la necesaria bisexualidad del matrimonio. Aquí, como en otros casos, es "la letra" de la ley lo que se quiere cumplir, y no el espíritu, declarado inexistente, o mero efecto de la letra (en la práctica, una negación performativa de la pragmática situacional).

b) Como efectos subsiguientes de esta teoría jurídica (y de su implementación práctica en el Tribunal Constitucional) cabe suponer que se llevará más adelante el principio proclamado en El País de que "en una lectura adecuada de la Constitución cabe casi todo"—es decir, que la Constitución no significa nada en sí misma, sino que es (como el referente de la identidad sexual) infinitamente moldeable por sus lecturas. Por las adecuadas y por las inadecuadas—por las buenas y por las malas, una diferencia ésta puramente teórica, y que deja en realidad de tener apoyatura en la jurisprudencia.

Quinto, que no está descartado que, en España como en otros sitios, las palabras (y los signos) signifiquen no tanto lo que dicte el libre juego de la semiosis social, cuanto lo que ordena el jefe que signifiquen. El efecto Alicia, que señala Gustavo Bueno, o más bien el efecto Humpty Dumpty. Con finales a veces desastrosos—All the King’s Horses And All the King’s Men...


The Eye of Prey

—oOo—


 

Innovative concepts or tools

A question, out of the blue, to all members of the Narrative List who care to answer:

—Which is the most productive, useful, or innovative concept in narrative analysis developed in recent years?—say (but be flexible) in the 21st century? One that you would like us narrativists/narratologists/labelless people to turn our attention to, because it might be an eye-opener, a new paradigm, a... useful idea in the analysis or understanding of narratives? A new one, mind, not the standard tools we may be supposed to be teaching to students of narrative structure.

Answers:

That*s easy: sideshadowing.

One of the great mysteries in contemporary literary study is how THE
most interesting single work of *postclassical* narrative theory,
Gary Saul Morson*s NARRATIVE AND FREEDOM (1994), could have passed
without any notice (try looking him up in the ROUTLEDGE ENCYCLOPEDIA or
the BLACKWELL COMPANION). One hindrance, no doubt, was Morson*s
tendency to present his ideas as mere glosses on themes from Bakhtin.
They are not.

:David Gorman,
 Northern Illinois University

(A clarification: "Sideshadowing pertains to events that could have happened, but didn't."-  DG)

And a question:  

Given that definition, how does sideshadowing differ from the "disnarrated"? - Emma Kafalenos

My answer:
I'd say there is some common ground between sideshadowing and the disnarrated, but "sideshadowing" is a concept which is more fully articulated within an overall theory of temporal perspective (in Narrative and Freedom, or in Michael André Bernstein's Foregone Conclusions). It is, more specifically, a deliberate attempt to reconstruct a past perspective which preserves the openness of the present (a "past present") and thus avoids, or at least tries to counter, the fallacious element inherent in hindsight bias.
(I quite agree with David Gorman on the importance of Morson's Narrative and Freedom. That's 1994, though!)

More on sideshadowing here. There follow a few exchanges on sideshadowing, and by the end of March I insist—and get some answers which follow my re-question:

An assessment on "innovative concepts or tools"

Interestingly (or uninterestingly), this thread is running out its allotted span, and /nobody/ has pointed out an interesting, seminal, crucial or original critical concept for the analysis of narrative developed within the last.... say ten years? There has only been one candidate for the post: "sideshadowing", an interesting concept to be sure, but only one, and moreover it is a 1994 concept, deriving from a much earlier Bakhtinian background.

Surely there must be more to draw our attention to—certainly there must have been as many books on the theory of narrative published in the last ten years as in the previous twenty-five centuries.

Or, perhaps, are we working within a well-established paradigm which is no longer developing any significant new ideas or methods in recent years? I am sure many people in the list would appreciate some of these significant novelities being pointed out to them, perhaps as an exercise in revaluation. Myself, for one!

Jose Angel García Landa


Hi Jose - for myself - as i've replied on a number of threads previously to this list - have found Hilde Lindemann's 2001 Damaged Identities Narrative Repair a crucial development in narrative on the concept of counterstories.  While work has been done previously on the concept of narrative and identity, developments that critique the kinds of stories that ought to be told to resist oppressive master narratives pose interesting questions for analysis. the way in which Hilde Lindemann uses the counterstories concept is certainly an innovation that i have not seen in structural or socio-linguistic approaches to narrative analysis. Though she did begin the development of this concept in a 1997 journal publication in the first instance it is not full fleshed out until this publication. It is an interesting question you suggest in terms of the paradigm of narrative analysis and whether it's an established field because certainly when one attends narrative sessions or presentation!
 s there is not universal agreement on the kind of narrative analysis presented or discussed, and there is so much material and people using narrative now that you would think there'd be many more innovations and concepts from people.

that's my contribution vikki

Victoria Palmer
Research Fellow
Faculty of Arts and Social Science
University of Sunshine Coast

Jose's observation -- "Interestingly (or uninterestingly), this thread is running out its allotted span, and /nobody/ has pointed out an interesting, seminal, crucial or original critical concept for the analysis of narrative developed within the last.... say ten years?"  -- is really interesting to me. I wonder if people on the list feel it is too charged a question, given that many here are professional narratologists? Does the question produce the impulse to say, "My concept is better than yours." Or "Everyone thinks his idea is great, but I know her idea is best of all, but how can I say it here when he is waiting to pounce?", and then when that impulse is stifled (this is a self-aware and smart group after all), there seems to be less to say more generally? Does the question about "crucial contribution" produce a disincentive to rank ideas? Is it perhaps even seen as somewhat crass to do so on a generally friendly list? And is this disinclination more common in humanities than in sciences? Silences are always hard to read so perhaps the relative non-response is really about spring break and no time. Anyway: I am interested and would like to hear more both about the new crucial concepts and the (relative) silence.
Peggy Phelan

For most of us the most interesting and innovative concepts are those we have been recently working on, and it is a little bit embarrassing to promote one's own research. In my case it has been concepts coming from digital culture, interactivity, virtuality (the what-could-have-been), and  immersion (the last two very worth exploring in literary narrative), as well as the concept of transfictionality proposed by Richard StGelais. (A variant is the remediation of Bolter and Grusin).

(Marie-Laure Ryan)
 
Peggy,
 
OK, you've drawn me out--at least to the point that I can share a few  thoughts.
 
1. The form of the question--what is the most useful, productive, or innovative concept?--with its implicit call for a single answer means that answering it with confidence and conviction involves making a large claim to knowledge of the field: "I not only single out this concept but I'm comfortable proclaiming it to be more innovative than those anyone else on this list of knowledgeable and thoughtful people might advance."  That's a lot to take on, though I imagine that Jose did not intend the question to carry that weight. [–no, of course not! I think no one is supposed to be claiming, just because they find a given notion is useful or innovative, that their knowledge of the field is superior to that of anyone else! - J.A.G.L.]
 
2. Most individual concepts function within larger projects so it's hard to separate the identification of "crucial concept" from the question of "crucial project," and it seems to me that we are happily in a situation in which many people are carrying out valuable projects and generating valuable concepts.  David Gorman, Victoria Palmer, and Marie-Laure have named a few.
 
3. I can easily name several more concepts I've found valuable, and I'm sure that many others on the list could as well.  But, in doing so, we would shift Jose's original question from "what is the?" to "what are some?" and thus lower the stakes of an answer. At the same time, shifting the question in this way means that there's no clear place to stop.  For example, among the many concepts I'd want to list, are both Sue Lanser's specific distinctions among attached, detached, and equivocal texts because I think they advance our ability to think about the fiction/nonfiction distinction and Harry Shaw's meta-analysis of why our terms won't stay put because I think it inspires a healthy skepticism that can keep us from mistaking our terms for The Truth.  If the range of candidates for inclusion goes from specific distinctions to meta-analyses, and, if, as I suggest in #2, there are multiple valuable concepts in multiple valuable projects, my answer to "what are some?" can go on for quite a long time.
 
Jim
P.S. More details about Lanser's distinctions and Shaw's meta-analysis can be found in their essays in the Blackwell Companion to Narrative Theory (2005).

an interesting and thought provoking reflection, thank you, Jim. I was struck by your insight into how the question posed a singular answer and note that my response reads as if i see nelson's counterstories and THE most crucial development in narrative analysis. also, the 'crucial' lends itself, as people have suggested in discussions, to proposing some scale or at least need for the concept which is invariably driven by the purpose for which one engages with it; i guess.  but i do hold overall, as you are succinctly drawing out, that there are probably many concepts, perspectives and modes of analysis within narrative that are both crucial and have developed over recent years - perhaps another reading of our silence on these is that there are so many that we may not even know where to begin!

(There is much exchange on transmediality and transfictionality; some relevant references go to my bibliographical page. And then, on April 1...)

Dear Professor Garcia Landa,

As both Peggy Phelan and Jim Phelan have pointed out, there are many of us who wouldn't be doing the work we are doing if we didn't think it was innovative, creative, and important.

But I wonder whether, when you raised this question to the list, you yourself had one or more concepts in mind that you thought we might name? Would you tell us which new directions in narrative theory you are finding interesting and valuable?

With best wishes,

Emma Kafalenos
Washington University in St. Louis

Dear Emma:

Er– well, no; it was just a question. The list had been somewhat dormant for some days and I just thought this type of question might enliven it. And it was a real question, I mean, I am genuinely interested in knowing what other people working in narrative have found especially helpful, illuminating, break-through-ing, etc.—in the hope that I (and we) might get to read interesting responses, which we have, although not many concepts or tools or research areas have been actually proposed, as most of the exchanges have focused first on "sideshadowing" and hindsight-bias-related phenomena, and then on "transfictionality"/"intermediality". I  know that I would learn much about concepts people find useful etc. by reading their own papers, and I try to do that as well within my limitations, but I thought that having people address the subject explicitly would be helpful; and in a way it is. As to any suggestions of my own, well, since you ask I suppose I would point generally in the direction of the "new media ecology" and the way it reshuffles the cards in narrative theory as in anything else. Come to think of it, the interface between the phenomena pointed out here, "hindsight bias" and "intermediality", or "sideshadowing" and "transfictionality" would be fruitful and challenging.

But you know, "the questioner who sits so sly will never know how to reply"...

All best wishes and thanks to all members for their answers (and questions) to this thread.

Jose Angel García Landa
University of Saragossa
http://www.unizar.es/departamentos/filologia_inglesa/garciala

Memes e intertextualidad


Simulacros y aterrizajes en la dura

Se ha muerto Baudrillard, a quien yo leía en un librito titulado Simulations, palabra en inglés, no en francés, pues el librito me lo encontré por el suelo en América—ese y otro titulado América, que también explicaba algunas características de mi experiencia americana.   Me intrigaba si a Baudrillard le escandalizaba la sociedad del espectáculo televisado, o si la disfrutaba como un enano; posiblemente las dos cosas, como a todo el mundo, pero en grado sumo, y eso le hacía más consciente de algunos aspectos y extremos de lo que teníamos ya entonces delante—y más que tenemos ahora que nos mudamos al ciberespacio. "La ilusión ya no es posible porque lo real ya no es posible"—bueno, ya será menos, aunque es cierto que la proliferación de imágenes da sustancia a lo que no la tiene, y nos hace dudar de la sustancia de lo que la tiene, nos perdemos entre nuestras fotografías; y perdemos el sentido, "la simulación sugiere", nos dice B., "que la ley y el orden podrían no ser sino un simulacro". Zapatero ha hecho mucho por potenciar esa impresión. Aunque nadie está inmune; he ido a estar de cuerpo presente (ITF) en una de las concentraciones contra su política antiterrorista, y están más penetradas por la mediatización de los medios (mucho más) de lo que lo estaba su supuesto original, el "espíritu de Ermua"; supongo que en realidad Zapatero capta mejor el espíritu de los tiempos, donde la imagen es todo y la sustancia quedó traspapelada. Ahora bien, toda imagen tiene su sustrato real, y a veces aterrizamos en la realidad de bruces, como cuando leemos la imagen de Baudrillard según la cual las Torres Gemelas son el emblema de "la duplicación del signo, que es la que destruye su sentido".... "Las dos torres del World Trade Center son el signo visible de la clausura del sistema en un vértigo de duplicación"... Hasta el fin de la historia tiene su fin, y su historia, según parece, y las torres eran algo más que un signo. Además de, digo. "La definición misma de lo real pasa a ser aquello de lo que es posible dar una reproducción equivalente", o sea, "lo que está siempre ya reproducido. Lo hiperreal"—frase que también sugiere (como su reflejo o torre gemela) la contraria: lo real será lo que escape a esta lógica de la hiperrealización, lo que produzca la impresión de lo único y contingente e irreducible. Recuerda Baudrillard que los "pilotos del Tupolev que se estrelló en Le Bourget pudieron verse morir en directo en sus propios televisores", una escena postmoderna de lo más, emblema de la satelización de lo real, y otras experiencias portentosas que nos reserva la postmodernidad multimediatizada. Cierto, y sin embargo, ya lo decía Ralegh, sobre la propia hiperrealidad de aquella su época, we die in earnest, that's no jest. No sólo de simulacros vive, y muere, el hombre...  En compensación, a kiss is still a kiss, sometimes.

Qué es la verdad


Implied author(s) in film and literature

Implied author(s) in film and literature

My reply to a question in the Narrative-List (from Ellen Peel, San Francisco State University) concerning the possibility of multiple implied authors in film and fiction:

On the issue of implied authors in film / novel:

Perhaps two separate issues need clarification.

1) If the implied author is taken to be an interpretive construct, and is as such dependent on a reader's construction of the text, it is of course to be expected that different readers may construct different implied authors (or different implied authorial values, attitudes, etc.). That would seem to apply to both written fiction and film.

2) Perhaps the term is not ideal for use in film studies, given that it is an import from literature, and is as such tailor-made for the standard literary situation in fiction, that is: a text as the product of an individual author. That said, there may be much more common ground than this would lead us to assume, in particular in marginal or non-standard cases: auteur film, pseudonymous multi-authored novels, etc.

As to myself, I think that "showing" (a story, values, etc.) the way a film does may be more conducive to multiple constructions of intent, value, etc.; and that would seem to provide a rationale for "multiple implied authors" as in (1) above. But a given interpretation of an individual case need not assume multiple implied authorship in the sense of a multiplicity or indeterminacy of authorial stance, implied values, political outlook, etc . "Collaborative authorship" is quite a different problem—though not without interesting connections with this issue, I should say.

Among the replies, Marie-Laure Ryan wrote:

> The posts on the implied author in film seem to take it for granted that the notion of implied author is essential to the understanding of verbal narrative; but in fact its theoretical necessity is far from established. See the entry "implied author" in the Routledge Encylopedia of Narrative, as well as the recent book by Tom Kindt and hans Harald Mueller, The Implied Author: Concept and Controversy," Berlin: Walter De Gruyter 2006.

My reply to the list (Feb. 27):

There is much debate on the implied author, to be sure. The argument that we need to get rid of "anthropomorphic" concepts in textual analysis has alwas struck me as a surprising one, though, given that only anthropomorphic creatures communicate through texts.

As to the Routledge Encyclopedia article on the matter, it concludes that it is a problematic concept which continues to generate controversial debate, which is probably true. On the way, though, the article seems to take for granted a definition of the implied author as "a 'voiceless' and depersonified phenomenon . . . which is neither speaker, voice, subject, nor participant in the narrative communicative situation" —which does not seem to have much to do with Booth's original notion. The implied author should be understood as a communicative textual voice: the one responsible for the text as a whole, as an intentional communicative (and rhetorical, and artistic) construct. The implied author is far from silent: s/he speaks using the protocols and conventions of literary and narrative communication—and this does not seem to be part of the assumptions of many of the critics of the concept. No wonder such a concept (of their own making, I should say) will appear to be controversial or problematic!

On the other hand, film, while being a narrative phenomenon, cannot be reduced to a linguistic communicative situation. And that may account for some of the problems which crop up when the concept of the implied author is applied to film. There is much common ground, but also some significant differences.

The conversation goes on...  Marie-Laure RYAN writes:

> When I was young and gullible and soaked up the theory of the day uncritically, I did not dare use the a-word “author” in my papers for fear of being laughed at as hopelessly naive: haven’t Barthes and Foucault convincingly demonstrated that the author is dead? Isn’t intention a fallacy and shouldn’t the text be a self-enclosed system of meaning? Whenever I had to mention the author, I prefixed the a-word with “implied” and that was much more respectable. Yet, I don’t see why I cannot attribute intents/beliefs/values to the author(s) rather than to a mysterious “implied” double of the author. Sure, the author as I imagine him/her is my own construction, but do I imagine a human being who writes a text, or do I imagine an abstract theoretical entity whose sole reason to exist is to prevent the real author from expressing opinions? Is it illicit to ask questions about what the author might have meant when reading a text? And is it illicit to use one’s knowledge about biographical authors and what one knows of their other works when interpreting a text? When I say that in the late works of Camus there is a mystical trend that is not present in the earlier works, am I speaking of an “implied” or am I attributing a change in world-view to Camus himself? And finally, about the anthropomorphic question: if I attribute belief, intents, values, etc. to an author, whether implied or real, then of course this will be an anthropomorphic construct. Pure theoretical constructs do not have a mental life.
>
> As for language-dependency: I think that narration is a verbal act, so I would get rid of the concept of narrator in any mimetic form of narrative (drama, film, compute games) and retain it for the diegetic forms. It is perhaps unfortunate that our field of narratology developed as the study of literary narrative and is burdened with terms that presuppose language. In fact, even ordinary language does: one speaks of storytelling. So it seems natural to ask: who tells? But what would narratology be like if instead of story-telling one spoke of story-showing, which is much more appropriate for film and drama?
> If there are narrators in fim, besides the source of voiced-over narration, are there narrators in drama, and who are they?


Answer:

Dear Marie-Laure: more views on the implied author...

- Yes, one may attribute values, a world-view, etc., to the author; only, insofar as you are doing that on the basis of a given work, you are attributing them to the implied author of a work. In many contexts there is no practical sense in differentiating the two, but sometimes you do need the implied author: if a socialist writer is forced to write conservative pamphlets, say, for his job, then you need to differentiate the ideology of the writer of those pamphlets (an implied author, possibly a pseudonymous or anonymous writer or a ghost-author) from the person who holds other beliefs in other contexts and perhaps in other works.

- And, as to narration: VERBAL narration is a verbal act, but narration in images, in choreographed action-verbal or otherwise-as in drama, is not a verbal act, it is a compositional act. If the net result is a narrative, though (in the extended sense of "a sequential representation of a sequence of actions, etc.") it makes some sense to speak of the act of composition as a narrative act, even though the term "narration" does create some confusion. Anyway, there is lot of verbal storytelling in drama and in film, but what makes these genres central to narratology is not that verbal storytelling they include: it is, rather, the fact that dramatic and cinematic composition is a narrative act (though not a verbal act).

PS: In early March, the debate goes on. In a message I've lost, M.-L. Ryan notes that narratologists do not usually include in their toolkit both the author and the implied author, and that in any case they do not use the implied author in order to explain such cases as unreliable narration, etc. In her example, although Booth would interpret the implied author of A Modest Proposal to be an ironist rather than an advocate of cannibalism, this is not the use which is made of the concept nowadays: narratologists would assume the implied author is in favour of eating babies... My answer:

Dear Marie-Laure:

- It is perhaps the case that some (or many) narratologists do not use the concept of implied author to analyze such cases as unreliable narrators, ghost writing, etc. Well, I don't think such analyses can go very far, for they would lack an essential concept. Which is in any case no more than a tool, to be used in practical analysis of a given text as flexibly as necessary. But sometimes you just need a monkey wrench, or whatever: in literature, you need implied authors all the time. Which shouldn't lead us to forget real authors: if narratologists (not me!) do that all the time, bad for them. Such narratological analyses will be restricted to a predefined set of laboratory phenomena, and will not deal with the actual dynamics of communication.

As to the Swift example: that would be, for Booth, the standard case in which we need to use the concept of an implied author. Of course someone may interpret that the implied author is advocating cannibalism... but that would be a misreading of the text, one which of course Swift invites in order to let his audience classify themselves between those who know how to read and those who don't... but I shouldn't expect narratologists to fall in the second group!

Dear Jose,
Back from a short trip, this explains why I haven't posted on the list. A few thoughts on the implied author: if the implied author of "A Modest Proposal" is NOT the one who advocates Cannibalism, as I thing Booth would say, what are we going to call the one who advocates cannibalism? For surely they should be differentiated. But if we do differentiate them, we add one more entity to that already cumbersome model of author-implied author-??-narrator.
My stance of this is as follows: ALL utterances--whether literary or not, fictional or not--have an implied speaker  and a real speaker. The implied speaker is the one who fulfills the felicity conditions of the speech act taken literally. It is the speaker in Swift who advocates cannibalism. This implied speaker never lies, never uses irony or sarcasm. Then there is the real speaker, constructed by the hearer on the basis of the content of the utterance, the context, what he knows about the personality of the speaker and his intent in producing the speech act. Of course this speaker is inferred--we cannot read minds--but this speaker is assumed to be a real person. Sometimes the implied speaker and the real speaker differ, sometimes they do not. They differ not only in the case of irony and lie, but also in the case of incompatence: "I know what you mean, even though it's not what you said."
In literature--fiction, to be more precise--we add a narrator.  The narrator tells the story as true, while the author does not. That's why we need the concept of narrator even in 3rd person. But why do we need to add the concept of an implied author who is neither the narrator not the real author? Is the implied author specific to literature? To fiction? Do we need him in a biography of Napoleon?
I said above we need an implied speaker in ordinary language to distinguish lie from sincere language and irony from literal language. It would seem then that we need him in fiction too, since such ways of speaking do occur in novels. But it seems to me that there is no need to add an implied author: irony and lies and unreliability can be attributed to the narrator. But narrator's irony can be transferred to author when narrator is not an individuated human being. So my model of what the reader needs to imagine goes like this:
1 Author(what author means)--2 Narrator (what narrator means)--3 Implied narrator (what narrator says literally), with 1 and 2 collapsing in non-fiction, and 2 and 3 collapsing  in straighforward expression.
The concept of imnplied author would only be useful if it were potentially distinct from real author AND the reader would be able to judge the difference, but since advocates of the implied author forbid attributing any belief and intent to the real author, the notion becomes totally non-operational.
I guess my main gripe about much of what is done in narratology is that it is trying to complicate rather than simplify things and does not adhere to the principle of Ockham's razor. The implied author, to me, is a hedge that critics use to avoid committig themselves to saying anything about the authoir. And yet, critical literature is full of "Austen tells us that", "Sartre teaches us that," etc. Is there something to be gained by outlawing these expressions?
The whole discussion of the number of implied authors in film takes the theory to its absurd limits! Will we some day have multiple unreliable implied authors in painting?
Cheers
Marie-Laure

Dear Marie-Laure,
I hope you've had a nice trip. And thanks for answering in such detail to my ruminations: if you don't mind an additional spell of intellectual ping-pong, I'll answer back between the lines:

> Dear Jose,
> Back from a short trip, this explains why I haven't posted on the list. A few thoughts on the implied author: if the implied author of "A Modest Proposal" is NOT the one who advocates Cannibalism, as I thing Booth would say, what are we going to call the one who advocates cannibalism? For surely they should be differentiated. But if we do differentiate them, we add one more entity to that already cumbersome model of author-implied author-??-narrator.

Well, as I take it, we would call the one who advocates cannibalism "the narrator" or perhaps "the speaker" since this is not a narrative proper. And the one who doesn't, the implied author. Whom we know as Swift, or rather, Swift-in-his-text. Should Swift have advocated cannibalism in his final madness, that would be a matter relevant to the biographical author, not to the implied author of this text. Anyway, we are constructing, perhaps, a simplified model of Swift's irony here, for the sake of the argument, because the actual Modest Proposal, or Gulliver, or any other text by Swift, exhibit ambiguities and imperceptible transitions between voices which would need to be analysed in greater detail.

> My stance of this is as follows: ALL utterances--whether literary or not, fictional or not--have an implied speaker  and a real speaker. The implied speaker is the one who fulfills the felicity conditions of the speech act taken literally. It is the speaker in Swift who advocates cannibalism. This implied speaker never lies, never uses irony or sarcasm. Then there is the real speaker, constructed by the hearer on the basis of the content of the utterance, the context, what he knows about the personality of the speaker and his intent in producing the speech act. Of course this speaker is inferred--we cannot read minds--but this speaker is assumed to be a real person. Sometimes the implied speaker and the real speaker differ, sometimes they do not. They differ not only in the case of irony and lie, but also in the case of incompatence: "I know what you mean, even though it's not what you said."

I agree, of course, though there are some terminological problems. In your account here, the "implied speaker" of an ironic utterance is not using irony (Swift's cannibal), while the "real speaker" of an ironic utterance is the ironist (Swift). The problem is that (as you stated before concerning the differences with Booth's usage) your "implied" refers to the level would call the (unreliable) narrator, and your "real" refers to Booth's implied plus real author. This is understandable, because any speaker/writer is "implied" in his text: the cannibal in his cannibalistic text, and the ironist in his ironic text, when read as irony.

> In literature--fiction, to be more precise--we add a narrator.  The narrator tells the story as true, while the author does not. That's why we need the concept of narrator even in 3rd person. But why do we need to add the concept of an implied author who is neither the narrator not the real author? Is the implied author specific to literature? To fiction? Do we need him in a biography of Napoleon?

Not specific to literature; this is a matter of general communication, especially writing. In a biography of Napoleon? Well... perhaps. It depends on what you are trying to do. If you are comparing the author-in-the-text (implied author) to another expression or text of the same author, you might need to distinguish the author you construct on the basis of this text from the one you construct on the basis of his journalistic articles, etc.

> I said above we need an implied speaker in ordinary language to distinguish lie from sincere language and irony from literal language. It would seem then that we need him in fiction too, since such ways of speaking do occur in novels. But it seems to me that there is no need to add an implied author: irony and lies and unreliability can be attributed to the narrator.

OK, fictional narrators can do anything authors can do (since fictional narrative may be motivated as fictional authorship). But in order to interpret unreliability, you need to contrast the unreliable narrator (e.g. Jason in The Sound and the Fury) with someone who holds a reliable moral (intellectual, etc.) position: and that is the author. The author-in-the-text, as you construct his position, that is, the implied author. ("Faulkner", for Booth). If you're a good reader, you don't read Jason's text as being endorsed by the author, you read an implied evaluation between the lines. And insofar as that is a textual, implied, constructed position, we're speaking of an implied author, irrespective of our knowledge of other Faulkner texts or anything about Faulkner as a person ("the real author") apart from this novel.

> But narrator's irony can be transferred to author when narrator is not an individuated human being. So my model of what the reader needs to imagine goes like this:
> 1 Author(what author means)--2 Narrator (what narrator means)--3 Implied narrator (what narrator says literally), with 1 and 2 collapsing in non-fiction, and 2 and 3 collapsing  in straighforward expression.
> The concept of imnplied author would only be useful if it were potentially distinct from real author AND the reader would be able to judge the difference, but since advocates of the implied author forbid attributing any belief and intent to the real author, the notion becomes totally non-operational.

But it is potentially distinct from the implied author, there are many possible examples in which it is not only operational, but necessary. Unwanted juvenilia. Recantations. Conversions. Etc.—to take just one possible line of difference.  I don't know about "advocates of the implied author", but Booth, in Critical Understanding, often contrasts the implied author in a given work and the author in other works or communicative interactions. And me too!

> I guess my main gripe about much of what is done in narratology is that it is trying to complicate rather than simplify things and does not adhere to the principle of Ockham's razor.

But sometimes we need to multiply the entities in order to deal with a complex case, because in verbal art, art consists in a multiplication of such levels of utterance. So, I'm all for simplification, but where it is advisable, or possible, one should not simplify one's toolkit so that an essential tool is missing. BTW, I read the other day an interesting paper (almost a hundred years old) on Ockham's razor: I'm enclosing it in case you feel curious about it.

> The implied author, to me, is a hedge that critics use to avoid committig themselves to saying anything about the authoir. And yet, critical literature is full of "Austen tells us that", "Sartre teaches us that," etc. Is there something to be gained by outlawing these expressions?
I'm not at all for outlawing. Rather, we need to speak of the author as a figure in the text, the "implied author" and as someone who has designed (not always in a fully conscious or controlled way) the appearance and features of such a figure, and that would be "the author". The one who is bored to death with writing potboilers is also the author, not the implied author!
> The whole discussion of the number of implied authors in film takes the theory to its absurd limits! Will we some day have multiple unreliable implied authors in painting?

Hahah! well you never know! That's beyond myself for the moment, though. As to film, yesterday I read at the end of the credits in a theater, "Columbia Pictures is the Author of this film"... so yet one more candidate, and an authoritative one!  Cheers! JOSE ANGEL

Anyway, we both stood our ground in the end.
Thus far narrativeness or narrativity... Now for literariness. Fatemeh Nemati writes:

> Dear members of Narrative group
> Narratives told everyday everywhere by everyone are much similar to literaray narratives. It seems that they follow the same principle of representing the world. What makes the difference between a literary and a non-literary narrative if they are alike in every aspects of representing experiences of the real world? What happens to a narrative when it is branded as literary in contrast to non-literary? Do they differ in the meaning they convey or the way they convey it? Is it fictionality that promotes a narrative to the status of being literary rather than non-literary? Is it a magical transformation? How do you recognize that this narrative is literary rather than non-literary? are there yardsticks to measure it or are we again to depend on our intuition? What is the elixir that causes a narrative to transcend beyond the mundane reality, to enter the world of literature? I'm so perplexed that i feel i will die in the maze if nobody comes to my help. Kind regards
> Nemati

Dear Nemati:
I agree there is much common ground, certainly, between everyday conversational storytelling and literary narratives. In the last analysis, literary narrative derives from such oral stories. So there is in fact a continuum between literary and non-literary narratives. And what makes a story more or less literary (I would like to emphasize the "more or less", because it is not a matter of either/or, but a question of degree, context, etc.), what makes a story more or less literary is in part the use it is put to, and in part whether it shares a number of characteristics, none of which is in itself determinant. For instance, you mention fictionality, and well, yes, there is much common ground between literature and fiction, and a fictional conversational story would rate in principle as more "literary" than an instrumental one (conveying practical information, for instance). There are many other such parameters: whether a story has a status as a cultural icon or reference point (e.g. classical historical works, which nevertheless are supposed to be "factual"). Whether we are focusing on the story for the sake of narrative pleasure, and not for practical information. Whether the story uses language in a distinct, creative, rhetorically effective way. Whether it is tellable, repeatable... Whether it is written using literary conventions, and published as "literature". Etc. As I say, I see this as a number of criss-crossing parameters, none of which determines whether a story is to count as literary. The context of use is all-important. And the story's story: some stories are born literary, some become literary, and some have literariness thrown upon them!


Robert Scholes wrote:

The literary vs. non-literary distinction has nothing to do with fictional vs. real.  It has to do with highbrow narrative vs. low-brow narrative, the stuff in "little" magazines vs. the stuff in "pulps," for example.

The distinction was used to distinguished "quality" fiction from cheap, popular stuff.  Personally, I rejected that distinction long ago.

Bob Scholes

 

...and I reply:


There are many different notions as to what literature is, and many different contexts in which literature is distinguished from non-literature, so there is no way a clear-cut definition of literature can possibly be provided, from a "bird's eye view" of cultural phenomena. That doesn't mean that in a given context, or for one given person, the line between literature and non-literature may be quite sharply drawn; my point is that this would be just one context, or one notion, among many. That's why we need a fuzzy definition of literature according to a number of criss-crossing and grading scales.

Nonetheless, some notions are more widely shared than others, and some are more influential than others. For instance, more people would agree that "the book which inspired the film" is literature (good or bad, etc.), while "the film based on the book" is not literature (but film). And more people (more influential contexts, etc.) would agree that a highbrow, culturally valued text is literature, while a joke I happen to invent and tell my friends is not literature. Which is not to say that a given theorist may refuse to make that difference, in a given context. Or, again, many people will find it strange that Winston Churchill should be given the Nobel Prize for literature (quite apart from the quality of his style), while not many people will find it strange that Faulkner should be given the Nobel Prize for literature (whether they like his fiction or not), because "creative fictional writing" tends to be associated with literature in the minds of many people, while "history" tends to be put on another shelf by many people, libraries, bookstores, etc. I think it is useful to keep in mind which are the usual senses given to words, and uses given to books, whatever our theoretical preferences may be. Our theoretical proposals will have to intervene and make sense in (or try to change) that "real" cultural world, after all...

The list goes on...
Sobre estilo, crítica, comunicación y narración ficticia

Abstract

Y nunca mejor dicho lo de abstract. Esta abstracción la he escrito hoy, estilo César, en tercera persona, tras releer mi artículo "Narrating Narrating: Twisting the Twice-Told Tale". Que aparecerá en la serie "Narratologia" de Walter de Gruyter este año, espero. Conforme a mi teoría, la autorelectura me ha aportado ciertas cosas que no sabía que había dicho en mi artículo. Si es que las había dicho. Bueno, en todo caso, ahora leídas están, y el abstract escrito, post hoc et propter hoc:

José Ángel García Landa approaches narrativity from the vantage point of narrativization and narrative doubling, understood as interactional communicative phenomena. Narrative, as a dialogic phenomenon, is a rearrangement of previous narratives in order to articulate a new one, more complex or more to the point in a given interactional exchange. Effects of doubling ('narrated narratings', stories within the story, etc.) add semiotic intensity, and suggest that repetition and retelling are basic to narrativity. Narrativization is therefore a remaking of previously narrativized events. Notions like "tellability", "point of view" and "event" need to be redefined in view of this interactional situatedness of narratives. Discursive phenomena involving the response to narratives, their use in conversation or criticism, or their theoretical analysis, also partake of this interactional situatedness. The connectedness between events characteristic of narratives (and which is subject to reinterpretation and retelling) is shown to be relative to the communicative dynamics of discourse interaction. Some definitions of narrativity are examined and criticised in order to emphasize the configurational dynamics of narrativity—a dynamics of constant remaking through communicative interaction. In this light, García Landa addresses the retrospective dimension of narrative, in particular the "narrative fallacy" and its diverse aspects, such as the post hoc/propter hoc confusion, hindsight bias, foreshadowing, sideshadowing, the double logic of narrative, simulated contingency, etc. His narratological analysis extends into intertextuality, cognitive theory and hermeneutics, and ends by retaking the question of narratives which retell or represent narrative acts. Literary works which narrate acts of narrating keep us aware of the continuity between everyday conversation and elaborate literary genres, and build bridges between them, re-appropriating orality for literature and constructing complex interactional forms precisely through a return, with a difference, to the source of narrative interaction.

Emergent Narrativity

Retrovisor interiorizado

(Sábado 10 de febrero de 2007)

A veces echo en falta, andando por la calle, no llevar retrovisores. No es que los eche de menos deliberadamente, vamos, que no es que me tiente instalarme unos en los hombros; lo que pasa es que espontáneamente a veces echo una mirada al retrovisor... y me encuentro con que no tengo retrovisor, porque no voy en mi moto (o coche), sino a pie. En la moto no ando escaso de ellos, parece la vespa de Quadrophenia, con cuatro retrovisores; y el coche tiene los tres de rigor, que creo que miro tanto como lo que tengo delante (no es que eso sea muy aconsejable, no...). Por la acera, me tengo que conformar con echar un ojo a los escaparates que pillan al bies. El caso es que, leñe, sí que vendrían bien unos pequeñitos, en la esquina de las gafas... Esto de los retrovisores es un caso curioso, y muy de andar por casa, que muestra cómo interiorizamos esquemas perceptuales no "naturales". Los saltos de secuencias en el cine son otro ejemplo. Los interiorizamos sobre todo si son convenientes, y nos permiten relacionar rápidamente dos imágenes con poco esfuerzo. Lo de volver la cabeza es un rollo, estamos deficientemente diseñados para eso, y la mitad de las veces no nos enteramos de lo que pasa a nuestras espaldas. Qué limitado se encuentra uno de repente sin sus retrovisores, abocado a la vista al frente; es como llevar anteojeras. Y qué práctica, la polvera de la femme fatale, para estos casos, o el bruñido mechero del investigador privado. 

Parapraxis perceptual con desmaterialización televisada