The
combined silence
Critically and commercially successful postmodernist
novels such as Slaughterhouse Five and The Book of Daniel present
themselves, ironically, as ‘failures’ - as evidence of the inability the
narrator/author to compose a coherent narrative or text, to ‘make sense’ of
experience or interpret history intelligibly. Discuss the functions and effects
of the trope of ‘failure’ and authorial ‘impotence’ in any set text(s).
By the time Roland Barthes announced the death of
the author more writers were engaged with the idea their novels should not
formulate meaning for the reader. Truths are heading towards multiple places
and coming from multiple texts, perhaps all unoriginal. Styles such as
historiographic metafiction draw attention to the author’s dilemma by crossing
frames of reference,[1] and Slaughterhouse-Five
speaks to these multiple contexts where failure of authority is more than a
dichotomy.
If a coherent narrative is one which layers a
possible history over the reader’s world view and attempts to stretch the
spaces between images so that they correlate inconspicuously then it hands
responsibility of interpretation with the reader. Postmodern literature might
sense the transaction as consumer fetishism, that interpretation is not subject
to patronising encouragement or sold to an end-user. This is partly because the
contextualised reading of narrative is a constraint of judgement, or judgement
itself. An academic essay signifies expectation that some goal might be
achieved, constrained to some conclusion/strength of argument. Holes in the
establishment of theory are not acceptable given that will prevent orderable
structural discourse if they represent failure or unwillingness to reference
authored texts. A personal essay can connote the possibility of failure as a
possibility of an open ended goal, or contribution to an ongoing and
ontologically-based idea. We will be looking at combinations of interpreted
contexts and disassociating language in the propagation of judgement, the
attention that failure recognises in passing hand to hand.
The academic pretext is in acknowledging the
existence of facts which the event of experience alone shall miss, and that
single experiences cannot at once evaluate the reinforcement of cultural
capital. Recycling, rejecting are part of the search for coherence of theory.
In the modernist context the number of re-readings narrows down the
possibilities; until like a pillar of salt the meaning ceases to be elusive.
Why, according to Vonnegut, is this act so human? It is as if events are so
impelling that we search for all forms of meaning, including those that make us
old and full of facts. We can’t cope with this, either, and the only answer
Vonnegut appears to award Professor Rumfoord who probes Billy for the confirmation
of truth of the war is the emptiness of the Tralfamadorian one. This is,
however, a transaction of language and Burnham and Hinchliffe argue that the
over all humanist tones of Vonnegut’s novel are a sublimation of the differend,
as designated by Jean-François Lyotard.[2]
The differend is the unstable state and instant of language wherein
something which must be able to be put into phrases cannot yet be. This state
includes silence, which is a negative phrase, but it also calls upon phrases
which are in principle possible. This state is signalled by what one ordinarily
calls a feeling: “One cannot find the words”, etc. A lot of searching must be
done to find new rules for forming and linking phrases that are able to express
the differend disclosed by the feeling. (Lyotard, The Differend, §22,
13)
Vonnegut is resolute in offering a failed phrase for
ending a massacre, “Poo-tee-weet?” The differend becomes much more
analogous to this personal context however though the comparisons with the
exhaustive speculative goals of history professors and accomplished movie
credits-watching Tralfamadorians. Burnham and Hinchliffe investigate the totalising
narcissism of language, describing how the Tralfamadorians view the professors’
attempt to conquer time as
not invalid because of a feeling (since they seem to have none) or because it reduces freedom, but because it is resisting the inevitable. Tralfamadorians find such attempts amusing because to them it is unthinkable that one should want or try to conquer time. To want to conquer time, then, is a failure of feeling, because while the human encounter with temporal openness provides the possibility of a differend, the desire to conquer time (by the production of universal phrase genres) nevertheless represses the differend along with the feeling that is a sign of its happening.
The “universal phrase genre” involves Lyotard’s
rules for the pragmatic dimensionality of units, or phrases, of language
in relation to each other.[3]
The universal phrase genre is
one in which the rules for the linkage of phrases are understood to be uniquely valid so that it cannot recognise the legitimacy of other genres with a related telos. For example, the cognitive phrase genre is one that uniquely defines the rules for obtaining objective knowledge of the world such that knowledge is understood to be impossible in any other way. Such phrases are thus guaranteed to be homogeneous across time - that is they are temporally totalising.[4]
With such a war of the worlds hanging in the balance
harnessing the weapons of mass-assimilation the combination of possible
readers’ contexts becomes the very context in which Vonnegut appears as “the
author as a guest in his own text.”[5]
He acts inside a simulacrum of temporal waves attempting to appropriate the
resonant frequencies of a reader’s feeling of contemporary status overlapping
the superpositioned “origin” of people’s texts to reproduce identity as
language. Witness the old man and his Pall Malls who can’t keep still yet
suggests that the reader examine the angles that form between his pillar of a
text and the attempts to engage it.
The implications of failure are not harmonious and
can be interpreted contextually in the signs and signification of audience,
peers and society. To deny the last word from the author and from anyone who
might try to have it can imply an insistence to always be thinking about it
– to the effect that the reader can choose to be slave to the problematising
world of the subject or choose to see subjects as intertexual and without
definition, so that the text is ‘free’ to engage and interpret on a wide range
of scales. Seeing this as a redeeming quality of historiographic metafiction,
Hutcheon quotes Streuver’s objection to historical novels in that they “are
not histories, not because of a penchant for untruth, but because the author-reader
contract denies the reader participation in the communal project.”
[6]
The failure of the author to make intelligent responses
can suggest the reader focus on the speculation of events rather than facts.
The question of who comes closer to listening to a crazy person is invoked
by the novel by situating Billy as the proximity to figures like Wild Bob
and Roland Weary. The meek, the ones who would not assume they understand,
redeliver first hand reception, bowing down to any possible authority who
will listen, since we are not privy to a conversation where we can enjoy Billy’s
reaction. This may be the only way to make events seem less crazy, or subjective,
if a mute narrative reaction is more unbelievable than the actual event. It
is almost an encouragement of a least conscious interpretation, a failure
to perceive facts.
“The writer does not originate his discourse,
but mixes already extant discourses”[7]
and in this sense aporia is not the failure of writing but its recognition.
Vonnegut comments, “I came home in 1945, started writing about it, and wrote
about it and wrote about it, and WROTE ABOUT IT. This thin book is about
what it’s like to write a book about a thing like that.”[8]
Through the differend Vonnegut is blurring the facts interpreted from this
event (of writing) with the feeling of Dresden’s name, confining himself to
look at the “present”.
In the differend, something “asks” to be put into phrases, and suffers from the wrong of not being able to be put into phrases right away. This is when the human beings who thought they could use language as an instrument of communication learn through the feeling of pain which accompanies silence (and of pleasure which accompanies the invention of a new idiom), that they are summoned by language, not to augment to their profit the quantity of information communicable through existing idioms, but to recognize that what remains phrased exceeds what they can presently phrase, and that they must be allowed to institute idioms which do not yet exist. (The Differend, § 23, 13)
If the achievement of metafiction lies supposedly in
the present call by language to you rather than a writer’s urge to look back it
models an “all or nothing” approach, an analogue of Heisenberg’s uncertainty
principle. The novel then fails from a historian’s point of view due to the
attitude of the novelist, Doctorow writes “history is kind of fiction in which
we live and hope to survive, and fiction is a kind of speculative history… by
which the available data for the composition is seen to be greater and more
various in its sources than the historian supposes.”[9]
The writing failure-victory equation is folded by the combination of
author-reader contexts yet always influences the differend to stay and ask what
you are asking language.
Clearly problems are presented towards a state of
knowledge, as context of phrase genres tip uncertainties in one direction after
another. To look for a totalising view Hutcheon outlines, “Historiographic
metafiction, for example, keeps distinct its formal auto-representation and its
historical context, and in so doing problematises the very possibility of
historical knowledge, because there is no reconciliation, no dialectic here –
just unresolved contradiction…”[10]
When the American soldier is felled and asks, “Why me?” to which the German
replies “Vy anybody? Vy anything?” this absence of knowledge becomes somewhat
opposed to the obligation that the individual has a Cartesian acknowledgement
of eternity which Billy is taught by the Tralfamadorians. Whether it be the
absence of knowledge, rather, language, or the totatilisation of it, the
differend provoked by “Why?” acts like an appeal to have feeling of judgement
remain disassociated from it. If the speculative possibilities of the external
world, or the ‘events’ of history, are equated with a Cartesian perception,
Vonnegut’s authorial statement, “I imagined dropping bombs on those lights,
those villages and cities and towns,” though I suspect is there in earnest,
does lend an arbitrary quality to the differend to deal with Dresden; why would
you expect to know how it feels to create awe? The resistance of looking
backward for knowledge does not change its context if translated to try looking
forward to using the lessons of history, it is incongruent with the novel’s
distancing from the Tralfamadorian meaninglessness of time.
In a journey through complex movements like war the
distinction of “being” amongst humans acting out their maximum influence on the
physical world has an indefinite problem of scale. The constraint of choosing
some words over other words makes it difficult for a participant to expect that
they wield much influence over the text of historicism and would let the giants
speak instead, “One of the main effects of war, after all, is that people are
discouraged from being characters.”[11]
Yet if we should be deemed innocent the feelings aroused from proxy to terror
should translate well to facts; “… history is a fiction. It’s a dream in the
mind of humanity, forever striving… towards what? Towards perfection.”[12]
At one point Vonnegut as the narrator mirrors the speech of his protagonist, “I
was there.” If this is in reference to Billy’s confrontational attitude towards
the “deaf and blind enemy” in the guise of Rumfoord, is this suppose to draw
our attention to an interpretation of his novel as suffering “echolalia”, a
symptom of combined circumstances? If so then the facts are emphasised as
singled out from the truths of others who were privy to events.
Burnham and Hinchliffe suggest the Kantian notion of
the sublime forces us to take feelings as serious as empirical evidence. At the
same time whether it is an attempt to justify innocence or more to be more
complex and deface history without remaining hypocritical it is clear
discussion would be kept as short as possible. In this sense Billy may only be
trusting a single identifier of the war as a point of comparison in his memory,
and the one time that he “remembers” the past as opposed to travelling and
seeing events is triggered by an image mimicking the German “barbershop
quartet” in Dresden, where the image, the guards’ moving mouths, before him was
failing to react to the world (which for once Billy is part of), before Billy
himself could try and fail (to create language, facts) – the differend has
spoken to him. This would equate looking back with the summation or
critical point of being, or feeling, or ownership, and suggests that it is the
one true staticness of evidence that results from any participant of history.
It is a differend that traps all owners of language to simulate Billy’s
“windows” of time making them as arbitrary as possible to ensure nothing
matches the real. Even an old man with his Pall Malls must keep moving.
Lastly, with the analogy of an “anti-glacier” book in operation Vonnegut metafictionalises the world’s conception of the power relations between authorship and consumerism. His ongoing “war” is a failure to fight for all weapon disarmament to prevent more acts of pointlessness such as missing transport links which Allied pilots were told to bomb in Dresden.[13] Time travel itself is an allusion to the inability to keep history down, as he stays within the framework of war and the novel’s “sequence of events adds up to nothing more than one damn thing after another.”[14] The humanist inclination to refuse valuing some events as more important than others is one feeling in the image of multiple feelings, yet this is a structure of language and invokes military funded images. Do we call the novel potentially failed propaganda which relies on feeling, as most propaganda does, attacking it for dismissing other feelings like those in Auschwitz as some critics have?[15] Burnham and Hinchliffe state that “Differends are also strictly speaking insoluble. The aim is not to convert a differend into a litigation, but to recognise its happening and “disarm” the power relations which conspire to keep it hidden.”[16] In other words, the attention to politics may not be the novel’s style, it is another image which provokes by analogy rather than feeling as the Tralfamadorian way condescends:
Tralfamadorians find such attempts amusing because to them it is unthinkable that one should want or try to conquer time. To want to conquer time, then, is a failure of feeling, because while the human encounter with temporal openness provides the possibility of a differend, the desire to conquer time (by the production of universal phrase genres) nevertheless represses the differend along with the feeling that is a sign of its happening.[17]
To achieve a cognitive phrase genre to describe the
acceptance of Dresden into contemporary consciousness Vonnegut could follow
Jameson’s concept where the “crisis of historicity” has lost the referent of
the past and construct a sense of history through pop-representations, ideals
and stereotypes of the past.[18]
But the popular representation of a contemporary World War II was death and
appears even more directionless than the language which continues to ignore the
inane voices locked by the differend. For following the metafictional reward
path, he gets to say this: “All this happened, more or less” – whatever you
feel is probably there.
Academia can only ever hope to establish referents
and even then strictly in the form of language, it is about accessibility and
commonality. It would do quite well to be the structure rather than the
ontology of history, effective in exposing new differends for those who have no
objective or no means to step outside the simulacrum. Slaughterhouse-Five is
a purposeful dialogue between contexts of phrasing, cutting off each genre
before the reader should believe they themselves have never spoken the same
language. If postmodern novels are to ever believe that the heightened
consciousness of failure should be a redundant sticker on their books then the
assumptions by academics that individuals’ differend bear no fragments of the
lost referent of the image must also be removed. A book sold by failure is one
which wishes to pass on its structure of language, it is the very helplessness
to patriarchal images which will undermine them as audiences respond with
sublime evocations of multiple contexts that have constructed them. The
academics are at once correct and constrained in that there are too many persons
to for them all to be quoted but enunciate through a linear passage of history
a universal phrase genre needing to write everything they read.
bibliography
Burnham,
Douglas and Hinchliffe, Darrell, “Listen”: Toward the Differend in Slaughterhouse Five, http://www.staffs.ac.uk/schools/humanities_and_soc_sciences/philosophy/.resource/modules/Level%20Three/hs60257-3/Vonnegut.htm,
viewed 22/4/02
Jameson, Fredric, “Postmodernism, or The Cultural
Logic of Late Capitalism”, New Left Review, 146, July/august 1984, 53-92
Hartshorne, Thomas L., “From Catch-22 To Slaughterhouse
V: The Decline of the Political Mode,” South Atlantic Quarterly, 78,
1979, 17-33
Hutcheon,
Linda, A Poetics of Postmodernism, Routledge, London, 1988
van Stralen, H., “Slaughter-house Five,
existentialist themes elaborated in a postmodernism way”, Neophilologus, Kluwer
Acadamic Publishers, Dordrecht, Jan 1995
[1] Hutcheon, 109
[2] quoted in Burnham and
Hinchliffe
[3] Burnham and Hinchliffe
[4] ibid
[5] Brian McHale 1989, quoted in
van Stralen, 205
[6] Streuver 1985, quoted in
Hutcheon 115
[7] Brain McHale 1989, quoted in
van Stralen 200
[8] quoted in Burnham and
Hinchliffe
[9] Doctorow, 1983, quoted in
Hutcheon, 112
[10] Hutcheon, 106
[11] van Stralen, 5
[12] Ian Watson, Chekhov’s
Journey, 1983, quoted in Hutcheon, 111
[13] Hartshorne ,4
[14] ibid, 26
[15] ibid, 31
[16] Burnham and Hinchliffe
[17] ibid
[18] Jameson, 15
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Bob: When did you post this?
If recently (2010-2011) I would be interested in exchanging references and/or texts/links to Lyotard and PostModernism, articles on Camus, Anne Cauquelin on the Fragment (part summarised and translated for my own use...), Bann, Lassus...
I found your post covers a great deal of similar ground - I'm on a purely personal project.
(25.02.2012, 12:01)
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