ELALT Proceedings
ELALT Proceedings
Ch
abs
sec
satu
the
tha
diff
pea
occ
use
bes
(an
log
the
Char
Sve
T
art
solu
cond
urat
tot
at p
ffere
S
aks
curr
es a
st p
nglic
garit
ten
1
10
rt 2:
et ko
The
2 a
ute
d c
tion
tal
parti
enc
Sinc
of
renc
a no
poss
cism
thm
n ye
10
100
1000
000
: Di
omp
fin
abov
freq
corr
n. A
num
icul
es i
ce t
f an
ce (
on-l
sibl
m s
mic
ear
1
0
0
0
0
iach
pjute
ndin
ve,
que
resp
An
mbe
lar
in a
the
ngli
(bu
loga
e m
satu
sca
per
S
K
1
9
8
6
/
0
1
3
1
8
0
hron
era
ngs
in t
ency
pon
glic
er o
iss
angl
log
icis
ut it
arith
man
urat
ale
riod
/
S
K
1
9
8
9
/
0
1
3
.
1
8
0
2
4
9
3
6
3
6
nic a
an
pre
the
y (i
nds
cism
of a
ue.
licis
garit
m
ve
hmi
nner
tion
also
d be
S
K
1
9
8
9
/
0
1
S
K
1
9
9
2
/
0
1
2
.
4
9
3
6
.
3
6
3
9
6
abso
d th
ese
for
.e.
to
m s
angl
Th
sm
thm
inf
ery
ic,
r th
n),
o c
etwe
S
K
1
9
9
2
/
0
1
2
.
5
4
1
3
.
9
6
olute
he re
nte
rm
the
o th
atur
lici
he
sat
mic
flux
we
i.e.
he s
wh
clea
een
S
K
1
9
9
5
/
0
1
3
.
6
3
1
4
.
0
0
e fre
espe
d in
of 3
e tot
he
rati
sms
bar
ura
sca
x an
ll s
pro
shar
hich
arly
n 19
S
K
1
9
9
8
/
0
1
3
.
6
3
1
1
1
8
1
8
.
2
5
equ
ectiv
us
n th
3D
tal n
rel
ion
s in
r ch
ation
ale
nd
show
opo
rp i
h oc
sho
998
S
K
1
9
9
8
/
0
1
1
.
1
8
1
4
0
7
uenc
ve a
ses a
he p
bar
num
lativ
is,
n an
hart
n ar
use
the
ws
ortio
incr
ccu
ows
and
S
K
2
0
0
1
/
0
1
1
.
2
2
3
4
.
0
7
cy of
angl
a log
prev
r ch
mbe
ve
act
n is
t is
re n
ed i
e tw
the
ona
reas
urre
s th
d 20
S
K
2
0
0
4
/
0
1
1
4
5
6
3
.
8
2
f an
licis
gari
vio
hart
er o
fre
tual
ssue
dr
not p
n C
wo
e ov
ate,
se i
d i
he s
007
S
K
2
0
0
4
/
0
1
1
.
4
5
6
3
.
5
5
nglic
sm s
ithm
ous
ts. T
of o
equ
lly,
e di
raw
par
Cha
pe
vera
sca
in t
in
slow
7.
S
K
2
0
0
7
/
0
1
2
.
0
5
5
3
.
5
5
cism
satu
mic
par
The
occu
uenc
the
ivid
wn o
rticu
art 2
riod
all
ale,
the
198
w d
S
K
2
0
1
0
/
0
1
2
2
3
2
3
.
3
1
m oc
urati
scal
ragr
e fir
urre
cy
e re
ded
on
ular
2 do
ds
tren
wi
fre
86
decl
S
K
2
0
1
0
/
0
1
2
.
2
3
2
3
.
4
3
ccur
ion
le
raph
rst r
ence
of
elati
by
a l
rly n
oes
of
nd)
ith t
eque
and
line
3
.
4
3
rren
(rel
hs a
row
es)
an
ive
the
oga
not
no
ste
, th
the
enc
d, a
e in
nce i
lativ
are
w of
of
ngli
fre
e to
arith
ticea
ot ad
eady
he 3
pu
cy o
aga
n an
in th
ve fr
vis
f ba
ang
icis
eque
otal
hmi
able
deq
y d
3D
rpo
of a
in,
ngli
he a
frequ
sua
ars c
glic
sms
enc
nu
ic s
e.
quat
decl
bar
ose
angl
in
cism
anal
uen
lly
corr
ism
, i
cy o
umb
scal
tely
line
r ch
of s
lici
19
m s
AN
lyze
cy)
rep
resp
ms, w
i.e.
of a
ber
le,
y sh
e of
hart
sho
sm
995
satu
GLI
ed is
. Th
pres
pon
whe
a
angl
of w
so
how
f a
t in
owin
oc
. T
urat
CISM
ssue
he c
sent
nds
erea
angl
licis
wor
tha
w th
angl
n Ch
ng i
ccur
The
tion
MS
2
es of
hart
ted
to t
as t
licis
sms
rds
at t
e tw
licis
hart
in t
rren
no
n ov
209
f
t
in
the
the
sm
s
in
the
wo
sm
t 3
the
nce
on-
ver
21
C
in
ye
in
us
w
re
sy
te
av
op
w
jo
pr
of
ta
tim
an
in
fo
ko
an
an
(5
d
H
w
10
Char
n the
ear
ntro
ser
with
epre
yste
ermi
vail
pera
was,
ourn
roce
f an
ags
me-
ngli
n th
ollow
omp
n e
ngli
56.6
ojs
How
was
0
5
10
rt 3:
a
At
e pe
wh
duc
inte
it.
esen
ems
ino
labl
atin
at t
Ho
nali
ess,
ngli
that
-con
icism
he c
win
pjut
qua
icism
As
63%
stik
weve
bei
0
5
: Di
anal
thi
erio
hen
ced
erfa
The
nted
s. H
log
le t
ng s
the
owe
sts
, all
icism
t id
nsu
m i
corp
ng
tera
al i
m i
s ca
%) w
(jo
er, o
ing
6
ach
lyze
is p
ods
tw
: A
ace
e ye
d a
How
gy o
to S
syst
tim
ever
bo
l an
m a
dent
umin
influ
pus
issu
a 20
inte
influ
an
wer
oyst
ove
int
.36
hron
ed i
oin
of
wo e
Amig
an
ear
qu
weve
of t
Serb
tem
me, v
r, si
orro
ngli
and
tifie
ng
ux
fo
ues
010
erva
ux.
be
re r
tick
er th
tegr
3.9
nic a
ssue
nt it
imp
extr
ga
d a
of
antu
er, b
the
bian
m its
virt
ince
ow
cism
d, in
ed t
nat
occ
or p
s: S
0/01
al o
se
raw
k))
he c
rate
96
angl
es o
is w
por
rem
100
all t
199
um
beta
ne
n jo
elf
tual
e on
term
ms
n th
the
ture
curr
patte
Svet
. T
of
een
w an
bei
cou
d in
4.0
licis
of S
wor
rtan
mely
00 a
the
95 m
m lea
a v
ew
ourn
(be
lly e
ne o
min
in t
he c
tran
e o
red
ern
t ko
Thes
12
fro
ngl
ing
urse
nto
00
sm s
Svet
rth
nt ne
y in
and
new
mar
ap i
ersi
gra
nal
eari
enti
of t
nolo
the
case
nsla
f th
in
s o
omp
se is
yea
om
icis
the
e of
th
8.2
satu
t ko
not
ew
nflu
d A
w c
rks
in t
ion
aph
ists
ng
irel
the
ogy
cor
e o
atio
he
198
of b
pju
ssu
ars
Ch
sms
e se
f tim
e S
25
urati
ompj
ting
dev
uent
Atari
conc
the
tech
s w
ical
s in
in m
ly b
pri
y an
rpu
f tr
on p
ann
85 a
borr
tera
es s
an
hart
s (e
eco
me,
Serb
4.
ion (
jute
g th
velo
tial
i ST
cep
e off
hno
were
l u
n Ja
min
base
ima
nd
s w
rans
proc
nota
and
row
a 1
spa
nd
t 4
e.g.
ond
as
bian
07
(rel
era.
hat t
opm
co
T, w
ts t
ffici
olog
e av
ser
anua
nd t
ed o
ary
wh
were
slate
cedu
atio
19
wing
198
an th
also
, in
flo
mo
mo
n co
3
ativ
. Th
the
men
onsu
whi
that
ial r
gica
vail
int
ary
that
on p
aim
hat
e an
ed
ure
on p
95,
g an
6/0
he w
o c
niti
oppy
ost
ore
omp
3.82
ve fr
he ch
tw
nts i
ume
ich
t su
rele
al ca
labl
terf
y 19
t the
pira
ms o
tran
nnot
term
e us
pro
, it w
nd
01,
who
clos
ally
py d
fre
and
pute
2
requ
hart
o p
in th
er-o
als
uch
ease
apa
le a
face
995
e co
ated
of th
nsla
tate
ms
ed
ces
was
tran
Sve
ole
sely
y, t
disc
eque
d m
er j
3.5
uenc
t us
eak
he c
orie
so i
a f
e of
abili
as ea
e fo
, a
omp
d co
he r
atio
ed w
and
in t
ss a
s de
nsla
et k
tim
y co
the
c),
ent
more
jarg
55
cy o
es a
ks in
com
nte
intro
form
f Mi
ity
arly
or P
s w
pute
pie
rese
on p
with
d h
that
and
ecid
atio
kom
me p
orre
va
wit
typ
e co
gon
of an
a no
n an
mpu
d p
odu
m o
icro
and
y as
PC
was
er s
s of
earc
pro
h tag
hidd
t pa
the
ded
on p
mpju
peri
espo
ast
th o
pe
omp
, th
3.3
ngli
on-lo
ngl
uter
pers
uced
of a
oso
d u
s Se
co
the
soft
f so
ch w
ced
gs t
den
artic
e f
no
proc
uter
iod
ond
ma
obv
of
pute
his b
1
icism
ogar
icis
r ma
son
d u
use
ft W
ser-
epte
omp
e b
twar
oftw
was
dure
that
ang
cula
fact
t to
ced
ra
und
d to
ajor
viou
ang
er-r
bal
m o
rithm
sm
arke
al c
user
er i
Win
-fri
emb
pute
beta
re m
ware
s to
es t
t ide
glic
ar w
th
o an
dure
199
der
o p
rity
us a
glic
rela
anc
3.4
occu
mic
satu
et.
com
rs to
inte
ndow
end
ber
ers
a ve
mar
e pr
o de
they
enti
cism
word
at t
nnot
es,
98/
r inv
perio
of
ang
cism
ated
ce s
43
urren
c sca
urat
198
mpu
o a
erfa
ws
dlin
19
wa
ersi
rket
rodu
eterm
y u
ifie
ms,
d. D
the
tate
but
01
vest
ods
f bo
glici
ms
d ter
shif
nce)
ale
tion
85 w
uter
gra
ace
95,
ness
94,
as a
ion
t in
ucts
min
use
ed th
als
Due
pe
e all
t on
an
tiga
s of
orro
ism
(21
rmi
fted
) in
n oc
was
rs w
aph
car
, wh
of
so
alre
of
Se
s).
ne h
in
he t
so w
e to
eaks
l iss
nly
nd S
atio
f m
owi
ms (
1.26
nol
d in
the
ccu
s the
were
hica
rried
hich
f PC
the
eady
the
rbia
how
the
type
with
o the
s o
sue
the
Sve
on a
mas
ing
(e.g
6%)
logy
the
e
ur
e
e
al
d
h
C
e
y
e
a
w
e
e
h
e
f
s
e
et
at
s
s
g.
).
y
e
211
opposite direction, so that in 2010 the majority (41.12%) of anglicisms were obvious
anglicisms, while raw anglicism were now the second most frequent type (33.64%).
The frequency of hidden anglicisms (e.g. meni (menu)) increased from 15.37% in
1986 to 21.03% in 2010, albeit after a drop to 11.25% in 1998. This increase
highlights the effort on the part of the journalists to assign new meanings to readily
available Serbian lexemes. The fact that borrowing without any form of adaptation,
i.e. introducing raw anglicisms, is slowly becoming less popular can be interpreted
either as an effort on the part of the journalists to translate new terms or find
corresponding Serbian terms, or, simply, as an indicator that most computer-related
terminology has already been integrated into Serbian in the form of now
predominant obvious anglicisms. The fact that the frequency of translated terms
decreased from 6.74% in 1986 to 4.21% in 2010 seems to point to a conclusion that
word-formation processes are seen as the last resort by Serbian computer journalists.
In terms of translation procedures used in the forming of hidden anglicisms and
translated terms, as can be seen in Chart 5, the predominant procedure is that of
direct translation (e.g. mi (mouse)) and the second most frequent is functional
approximation (e.g. sabirnica (frontside bus)), whereas structural translation
(calquing) (e.g. tampa (printer)) completely vanished from use in 2010 as a means
of introducing new terms, although the terms already introduced in that way
continue to be used. This is rather unfortunate, since the analysis of the frequency of
two pairs of competing lexemes in the corpus, where one lexeme in each pair is a
calque (raunar and tampa) and the other either an obvious anglicism (kompjuter)
or a raw anglicism (printer), clearly shows that it is always the calque which
ultimately becomes the predominant form (probably because its meaning is more
transparent than that of an anglicism), as can be seen in Chart 6.
Chart 4: Patterns of borrowing in Serbian computer-related terminology
Chart 5: Translation procedures used in the forming of hidden anglicisms
and translated terms
21.26
30.40
41.12
15.37
11.25
21.03
56.63
55.68
33.64
6.74
2.67 4.21
0%
50%
100%
SK 1986/01 SK 1998/01 SK 2010/01
TRANSLATION
RAW ANGLICISMS
HIDDEN ANGLICISMS
68.69
77.24
95.45
5.05
5.69
4.55
26.26
17.07
0.00
0%
50%
100%
SK 1986/01 SK 1998/01 SK 2010/01
CALQUE
212
215
129
116
63
57
46 47
114
58
147
205
141
118
32
47 33
25
25
0
50
100
150
200
250
300
350
400
KOMPJUTER RAUNAR
p
and
sim
dia
cor
bor
bor
ma
the
is g
som
ann
be
(ch
Cha
pref
A
d as
mple
achr
rpus
rrow
rrow
ain p
re r
goin
me
nota
cal
hatti
art 6
feren
As i
s su
e m
roni
s ca
win
win
per
rem
ng
lex
atio
lled
ing)
6: K
nce
it h
uch
meth
ic l
an
ng;
ng o
riod
main
to b
xem
on s
d s
) an
Kom
tow
has a
it
hod
lexi
pro
fin
of E
ds o
ns a
be
mes
che
seco
nd d
mpju
ward
alre
has
dolo
ical
ovid
nally
Engl
of m
a lot
the
ca
eme
ond
doo
uter
ds tr
eady
s fu
ogy
va
de
y, t
lish
mas
t to
e ex
anno
e pr
dary
mo
r vs
rans
y b
ulfil
ca
ariat
val
the
h co
ss in
be
xpan
ot
rese
y a
lik
s. r
slate
been
lled
an
tion
luab
re
omp
nflu
do
nsio
be
ente
adap
(res
rau
ed le
n m
d al
be
n; i
ble
sea
pute
ux
one.
on o
cla
ed in
ptat
sem
unar
exem
5
ment
l it
us
t ha
ins
arch
er-r
of
On
of t
assi
n th
tion
mbli
r (c
mes
5. C
tion
s in
sed
as a
sigh
h ha
elat
ang
ne o
the
ifie
his p
n,
ing
com
s in
los
ned
nitia
to
also
hts
as
ted
glic
of th
an
d i
pap
for
the
mpute
com
ing
in
al g
ex
o b
int
als
ter
cism
he m
nnot
in
per,
ex
e co
er)
mpa
g re
the
goa
xtra
een
to t
o r
rmin
ms.
mo
tatio
a s
as
xam
omp
and
ariso
ema
e int
als:
act
n de
the
reve
nolo
Ho
st i
on
sati
the
mple
pute
d pr
on w
arks
trod
it h
val
emo
un
eale
ogy
owe
mp
sch
sfac
ey se
e: d
er g
rinte
with
s
duc
has
luab
ons
nder
ed
y in
ever
porta
hem
ctor
eem
dvo
gam
er v
h co
ction
be
ble
trat
rlyin
the
nto S
r, th
ant
me, a
ry
m to
oklik
me D
vs.
mpe
n, t
een
da
ted
ng
e pr
Ser
his
asp
as i
ma
o be
k (
Doo
ta
etin
this
sho
ata
tha
me
red
rbia
be
pec
it h
anne
e pr
dou
om
ampa
ng b
wa
own
for
at e
echa
om
an, a
ing
ts f
has
er
rodu
uble
).
a
orro
as a
n th
r th
even
anis
mina
as w
g a
for f
bee
acc
ucts
ecli
(pri
owe
a pi
hat
he
n a
sms
ant
wel
pilo
futu
en n
cord
s of
ick)
inte
ed le
lot
a r
ana
ve
s o
pat
l as
ot r
ure
noti
ding
f wh
),
er): t
exem
res
rela
alys
ery
f le
tter
s th
rese
res
iced
g t
hat
eto
2
the
mes
sear
tive
sis
sm
exic
rns
he tw
earc
sear
d th
o t
cou
ovan
213
s
rch
ely
of
mall
cal
of
wo
ch,
rch
hat
the
uld
nje
214
References
Kehoe, A. (2005). Diachronic linguistic analysis on the web with WebCorp. In: A.
Renouf and A. Kehoe (eds.). The Changing Face of Corpus Linguistics.
Amsterdam/Atlanta GA: Rodopi, 297-308.
Kyt, M., Rudanko, J. and Smitterberg, E. (2000). Building a Bridge between the
Present and the Past: A Corpus of 19th-century English. ICAME Journal 24:
85-97.
Mair, C. (1997). Corpora and the Study of the Major Varieties of English: Issues
and Results. In: H. Lindquist, S. Klintborg, M. Levin and M. Estling (eds.).
Papers from MAVEN 97. Vxjo: Vxjo Universitet, 139-158.
Pri, . (2005). Engleski u srpskom. Novi Sad: Zmaj.
Renouf, A. (2002). The Time Dimension in Modern Corpus Linguistics. In: B.
Kettemann and G. Marko (eds.). Teaching and Learning by Doing Corpus
Analysis. Papers from the Fourth International Conference on Teaching and
Learning Corpora. Amsterdam/Atlanta GA: Rodopi, 27-41.
Rissanen, M. (2000). The World of English Historical Corpora. Journal of English
Linguistics 28: 7-20.
Sinclair, J. (1982). Reflections on Computer Corpora in English Language
Research. In: S. Johansson (ed.). Computer Corpora in English Language
Research. Bergen: NAVF, 1-6.
Vasi, V., et al. (2001). Du yu speak anglosrpski? Renik novijih anglicizama. Novi
Sad: Zmaj.
215
Sanja KrimerGaborovi
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
SEMANTICS AND PRAGMATICS OF ENGLISH AND SERBIAN
COLOUR NAMING LEXEMES
Abstract This paper explores both the universal and culturespecific aspects of the
meaning of
English and Serbian lexemes expressing basic colour terms (Berlin and Kay, 1969).
Their semantics are explained in terms of the interaction of lexical meaning with
lexical pragmatics. Pragmatic phenomena connected with the semantic
underspecification of lexical items are illustrated by the pragmatics of colour
naming adjectives, systematic polysemy, lexical blocking, etc. The universal human
concepts are isolated by removing the culturedependant analytical framework.
These concepts are most obvious in black and white, stemming from the universal
distinction between dark and light respectively, as well as red and green, based on
the colour of human/animal blood and of nature respectively. The conclusion which
arises is that from a crosscultural perspective, pragmatics often fail to actually
describe lexical meaning, since it is semantics which is the key to understanding
crosscultural pragmatics not the other way round.
Key words: semantics, pragmatics, basic colour terms, crosscultural perspective.
1. Introduction
Differentiating between the semantic content (meaning) of colour naming
lexemes,
1
and their use to communicate on particular occasions and in particular
contexts (pragmatics) basically implies differentiating between the idea of what
words mean, and the use speakers make of words (King & Stanley: 2005: 113).
According to the lexical semantics postulates, colour naming lexemes represent
content, rather than form or grammatical words. This paper is, therefore, an
exploration into the semantic nature of colour vocabulary, as well as a window into
the ruling pragmatic principles it is subject to.
1
The paper deals with cognitive semantics approach where meaning is perceived as concepts, or
things in the mind, rather than a limited number of semantic building blocks closely studied by
componential semantics (Cruse, 2006: 3).
216
2. Colour terms are a domain of both lexis and culture
Since meaning is of no sense except in the context of communication involving
a speaker and an addressee, the notion of communication herefore provides as
good a place as any to start an exploration of meaning (Cruse, 2011: 5). What is
more, if a language is recognized as a social practice, its use can no longer be
separated from the creation and transmission of cultures, e.g. in Europe and America
the colour of death and mourning is black but in China the colour of death and
mourning is white. Therefore, MacLaury (1991), argues that colour is far from being
a universal human concept as it is so strongly tied to cultural symbolism and values.
In line with the universalistic views, however, first put forward by Berlin and Kay
(1969), colour perception is universalistic, namely in a language with a fully
developed colour term system the maximum number of basic colour terms (BCTs) is
11, embracing black, white, red, green, yellow, blue, brown, grey, purple, pink and
orange.
2
Whether a language has/has not a name expressing one of the
aforementioned hues depends solely on the fact whether speakers of the language
have/have not had a personal experience of a particular colour, not whether there
is/isnt a concept for it.
3
In other words, insisting on the idea that colour categories
are not arbitrary products of human cognition, universalists speak in favour of the
crosscultural congruity between colour lexemes in different languages, e.g. English
red, blue, green and Serbian CRVEN, PLAV, ZELEN. As always, the truth lies
somewhere in between these two contradictory approaches (the relativistic and the
universalistic), hence there is both the universal and culturespecific nature of the
colour vocabulary. In short, in spite of the most probable universality of the
underlying cognitive structures, languages do vary with respect to different encoding
of similar meaning with different colours. For lack of space and time, however, our
discussion on the basic colour terms will be narrowed down to merely four terms
naming two achromatic and two chromatic hues, namely English black and white,
and red and green, equivalent to Serbian CRN and BEO, and CRVEN and ZELEN,
respectively.
3. Colour dichotomy
Without any doubt, the most frequent classification in the human category is
based on black and white. It mirrors the eternal dichotomy of night and day,
2
Interestingly though, Berlin and Kay do allow for the possibility that some languages can have
more than 11 basic colour terms. As established by their followers, Russian has SINIY, dark blue, and
GOLUBO, light blue (Van Brakel, 1993: Wierzbicka, 1990), and in Hungarian there are PIROS, lighter
shade of the red hue, and VRS, darker shade of the red hue (Moss, 1988, 1989; Wierzbicka, 1990),
both pairs being two basic terms for blue and red respectively. Moreover, Roberson and Hanley
(2010), come up with the amazing 22 BCTs.
3
For details on Berlin and Kays typology of the BCTs please refer to KrimerGaborovi, 2008
(pp. 2201).
217
darkness and light, evil and good, death and life. All humans in the world are
familiar with the phenomena if not linguistically, than surely empirically. The
negative connotation of English black and Serbian CRN stems from the following
verbalized meanings, (1) misfortune, misery, malice, banishment, e.g. English black
Friday, any Friday on which a public disaster has occurred, blackhearted, evil,
black sheep, an odd or disreputable member of a group, especially within a family;
and Serbian U CRNO ZAVITI, to make unhappy; lit. to wrap in black, CRNA GUJA, an
evil person, lit. a black adder, CRNA LISTA, the list of unwanted/undesired
individuals (cf. Englich black list); (2) negative psychological conditions (fear,
anger, grief, anxiety, etc.), e.g. English to black out, to lose consciousness; and
Serbian ZACRNELO MU SE PRED OIMA, to become frantic, lit. to see black; (3)
disease, e.g. English black death, plague; Serbian CRNI PRIT, anthrax, lit. a black
boil, etc. In stark contrast to this, both English white and Serbian BEO imply a series
of positive qualities such as (1) innocence, docility, chastity, e.g. white lamb and
BELE MISLI, innocent thoughts, lit. white thoughts; (2) beauty, youth, good health.
e.g. clear, white skin, and BELO DEVOJAKO TELO, a young females beautiful body,
lit. a young females white body; (3) wisdom, experience, e.g. white/grey hair, also
available in Serbian as BELE/SEDE KOSE. The general negative attitude to BLACK and
the positive one to WHITE is perhaps best condensed into Serbian idiomatic phrase
UVATI BELE NOVCE ZA CRNE DANE, to save money for rainy days, lit. to save white
money for black days.
Nevertheless, in spite of a certain correspondence across cultures, here Anglo-
Saxon and Serbian, there are also considerable differences. Certain meanings
common to Serbian basic colour terms are practically nonexistent in English, e.g.
(OTII U) BELI SVET, (to go) abroad, lit. (to go to the) white world,
4
and vice versa.
In fact, in English white world is most commonly a colour metaphor for the
supremacy of the white race. At the same time, English white death and white
plague, both having the meaning tuberculosis, formally do, but semantically do not
correspond to the Serbian metaphors BELA SMRT, death of freezing, and BELA KUGA,
low birth rate, respectively. Serbian CRNI OBLAK, meaning (a) a cloud that brings
rain; (b) a forthcoming misfortune/disaster, literally translates into English black
cloud, which usually refers to the cloud of exhaust, or possibly the seasonal
smog. The English equivalent of Serbian CRNI OBLAK should be dark cloud, the
adjective dark being recognized here to be a different shade of the achromatic black.
Such occurrences of false cognates (words that appear to be cognates but have
different meanings in two languages) have been known to cause major stumbling
block to a quality translation. Furthermore, black can also have the positive and
white negative meaning. Therefore, a black limo (equivalent to Serbian CRNA
LIMUZINA) sends off the message of elegance and influence similarly to a little black
dress (equivalent to Serbian MALA CRNA HALJINA); or a person can get described as
4
Corresponds to the English phrasal expression into the blue (cf. also out of the blue, completely
unexpected, out of nowhere).
218
dead white, if s/he is sick (seriously anemic or others), terrified or dead; whereas a
defeat is commonly indicated by waving a white flag to the enemy. Moreover, in
Serbian NEMATI NI BELOG DINARA, means to be penniless/broke, lit. not to have
one penny/dime; and BITI NA BELOM HLEBU implies the idea of a life on death row,
lit. to live/survive on white bread alone.
Taking into consideration all the difficulties with the semantic flexibility of
basic colour terms, such as a relation of synonymy/antonymy, systematic polysemy,
collocations, false cognates, lexical gaps, lexical blocking, etc., that need to be
explained in terms of the interaction of lexical meaning with lexical pragmatics,
Lipka (1992: 48) rightfully concludes that words are not simply names for
preexisting extralinguistic categories. If this were true all translations would be
natural, accurate and with maximum effectiveness, and they are certainly not such.
As a result, colour terms must be studied in a context which implies that the colour
words are not analysed in isolation but in conjuction with other words. In view of
lexical pragmatics, pragmatic phenomena are studied in relation to the
semanticunderspecification of lexical items. Pragmatics can account for the reasons
that we can speak of the blacks and the whites even though the former are not
really black, and the latter are not really white. Neither do the phrases redskin and
yellow people which demonstrate a clearly pejorative attitude towards the two racial
groups (American Indians and Asians) provide a true description of the actual colour
of the peoples skin. Moreover, the blacks can be said to turn white when
grief/fear stricken and both blacks and whites as well as red and yellow people can
be said to turn green with envy or turn red when angry and/or ashamed.
Pragmatics is also useful when dealing with polysemy of the BCTs, the phenomenon
most commonly being recognized as a property of single lexemes implying
multiple meaning (Lyons, 1995: 58), or semantic ambiguity (Pri, 2008: 31).
Therefore, depending on the context, English blue, can refer either to the colour of
the sky without clouds on a bright day, e.g. a blue shirt that matched his pale blue
eyes; feeling or showing sadness, e.g. Hes been feeling really blue since he failed
his exams; or showing or mentioning sexual activity in an offensive way, e.g. a
blue joke, sexually explicit, pornographic joke. In the same manner, Serbian PLAV,
can actually suggest both the blue colour in PLAVA TORBA, a blue bag, and blond
colour in PLAVA KOSA, blond hair, its disambiguation always being
contextdependant.
4. Basic terms and their shades: a pattern of domain preference
The semantic variations of the basic colour terms are even more evident in
English red and green on one hand, and Serbian CRVEN and ZELEN on the other
hand, where the difference between a prototypical realisation of the BCT, that is to
say, between (1) the focal point of the spectrum at which the hue is claimed to be the
best example of the colour which is linguistically expressed by English and
Serbian collocations blood red and grass green, and KRVCRVENO and
219
TRAVAZELENO respectively; and (2) a variety of different basic colour shades and
tones associated with afore mentioned terms, namely e.g. English burgundy,
carmine, crimson, scarlet, vermillion (all different tones of the red hue), and
emerald, aquamarine, turquoise (all different tones of the green hue); as well as
Serbian RUMEN, RUJAN, RI, RUS (all different tones of the red hue), and REZEDO,
SMARAGDNI, TIRKIZAN (all different tones of the green hue).
5
When asked to use any
of the adjectives from the lists to describe a collection of objects, native speakers of
English will, for example use crimson in the field of plants, and emerald, also as
emeraldgreen, to talk about eyes or water(s). Similarly to this Serbian informants
will turn to RUS and RI to speak of hair, and REZEDO to describe the interior colours
(e.g. walls, fabrics, etc.). This suggests that with different shades of a particular hue,
there is always a clear pattern of domain preference. Languages, furthermore supply
numerous examples that indicate a clear stretching to the limit of the prototypical
reference of a BCT. Thus, e.g. English brown sugar, is not really brown, nor is
Serbian CRNO GROE, black grapes, really black in colour.
5. Conclusion
This paper sheds some light on English and Serbian basic colour categories
providing insights into their similarities and/or differences. The examples discussed
do not illustrate only the prototypical, but also the extended meanings of colour
adjectives putting an emphasis on the importance of studying these words in context,
namely in conjuction with other linguistic units.
Apparently, out of context, a BCT is anything but semantically precise.
References
Berlin, B. & Kay, P. (1991). Basic color terms: Their universality and evolution.
Second
Edition. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press.
Cruse, A. (2006). A Glossary of Semantics and Pragmatics. Edinburgh: Edinburgh
University
Press.
Cruse, A. (2011). Meaning in Language. An Introduction to Semantics and
Pragmatics.
Third Edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
King, C. J. & and Stanley Jason (2005). Semantics. Pragmatics, and the Role of
Semantic Content. In: Z. Gendler Szab (ed.). Semantics vs. Pragmatics. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 11164.
5
These are no more but some shades of red and green, and CRVEN and ZELEN.
220
KrimerGaborovi, S. (2008). Productivity of English and Serbian
Morphologically
Complex Lexemes Expressing Basic Colour Terms. In: K. Rasuli & I.
Trbojevi (eds.). English Language and Literature Studies: Structures across
Cultures. ELLSSAC Proceedings. Volume I. Belgrade: igoja tampa, 21729.
Lipka, L. (1992). An Outline of English Lexicology. Second Edition. Tbingen:
Max Niemeyer Verlag.
Lyons, J (1995). Linguistic Semantics. An Introduction. New York: Cambridge
University Press.
MacLaury, R. E. (1991). Social and Cognitive Motivations of Change: Measuring
Variability
in Color Semantics. In: Language 67/1, 3462.
Moss, A. E. (1988). ''Russian blues and purples: a tentative hypothesis''. In:
Quinquereme 11/1,
16477.
Moss, A. E. (1989). ''Basic Colour Terms: Problems and Hypotheses''. In: Lingua
78, 31320.
Pri, T. (2008). Semantika i pragmatika rei. Drugo, dopunjeno izdanje. Zmaj.
Novi Sad.
Roberson, D. & Hanley, J. R. (2010). ''Relatively speaking: An account of the
relationship
between language and thought in the color domain. '' U: B.C. Malt & P. Wolff (ur.).
Words and the mind: How words capture human experience. New York: Oxford
University Press, 18398.
Steinvall, A. (2002). English Colour Terms in Context. Institutionen fr moderna
sprk. Umea
universitet. (available at:
www.mos.umu.se/forskning/publikationer/anders_steinvall.asp
Retrieved on 2 May 2006)
Van Brakel, J. (1993). ''The Plasticity of Categories: The Case of Colour''. In: The
British
Journal for the Philosophy of Science 44/1, 10335.
Wierzbicka, A. (1990). ''The Meanings of Color Terms: Semantics, Culture and
Cognition''. In:
Cognitive Linguistics 1, 99150.
Wierzbicka, A. (2003). CrossCultural Pragmatics. The Semantics of Human
Interaction.
Berlin. New York: Mouton de Gruyter.
Wierzbicka, A. (2006). The Semantics of Colour: A New Paradigm. In: C.P.
Biggam,
C. Kay, N. Pitchford (eds.). Progress in Colour Studies 1: Language and Culture.
Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing. Amsterdam, 124.
221
Mihaela Lazovi
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
THE STRUCTURE AND SEMANTICS OF ACCOMPLISHMENTS IN
ENGLISH AND ROMANIAN
Abstract This paper aims to define the structure and the meaning of
accomplishments in English and Romanian by comparing progressive achievements
and accomplishments and analyzing the influence of resultative predication on
activity verbs. The analysis of the corpus is expected to show that accomplishments
are not progressive achievements since they have different internal structure; rather
accomplishments include an activity event and a change of state indicating the
terminal point of the situation.
Key words: Accomplishments, resultative predication, progressive achievements,
activities, telicity.
Introduction
This paper studies the semantics of accomplishments. One of the aims of this
research is to give a more detailed analysis of the meaning and internal structure of
accomplishments in English and Romanian language.
The introduction of the paper offers an overview of English and Romanian
verbal classes and their semantic characteristics. It also creates the basis for defining
Romanian accomplishments since they have not yet been identified in Romanian
language. The second part of the paper analyzes the internal structure and meaning
of accomplishments in both languages. It also distinguishes the notion of telicity
proving that the goal is an essential aspectual characteristic for distinguishing verb
classes in both English and Romanian language. The semantics of accomplishments
is dealt with in the final part of the paper which offers a new insight to lexical and
derived accomplishments and makes a clear distinction between progressive
achievements and progressive accomplishments in English and their translation
equivalents in Romanian.
The basis for this study is Vendlers semantic classification of verbs and verb
phrases into activities, states, achievements and accomplishments (Vendler 1967:97-
121). This classification is based on semantic characteristics of verbs and the way
the situation is realized.
In order to classify situations into verbs classes or verb types, it is important to
determine whether the situation implies a process or development or not, whether
222
the situation can be divided into segments and whether they are of equal quality or
there is a segment which denotes a culmination or goal after which the situation
naturally ends and cannot be continued. As a result, verbs can be classified into verb
classes based on their semantic characteristics or distinctive features.
Brinton (1988) and Novakov (2005) argue that the Vendlerian verb types can
be defined according to general distinctive features which are considered a part of
verbal semantics. The features in question are [+/- stativity], [+/- duration], [+/-
telicity]. On the other hand, Rothstein (2004:6-35) distinguishes [+/- telicity] and
[+/- phases] as two basic distinctive features which are crucial for the semantic
classification of verbs. These distinctive features are also important in determining
the internal structure of a situation.
In order to define accomplishments more accurately, the distinctive features
relevant for semantic classification of verbs will be presented as follows. The
distinctive feature [+ stativity] is a characteristic of situations which do not imply
process and development, such situations simply last in time. Only states are
described by the feature [+ stativity], whilst activities, achievements and
accomplishments by the feature [- stativity]. The distinctive feature [+ duration] is
attributed to situations which last shorter or longer period of time like activities,
states and accomplishments. On the other hand, the feature [- duration] is a
characteristic of momentary situations, i.e. achievements. The distinctive feature [+
telicity] is ascribed to situations which tend towards a goal or a terminal point after
which the situation naturally ends like accomplishments and achievements. The
situation itself determines the goal. In other words, the situation can denote a
process consisting of different phases which lead up to a natural goal (Novakov
2009, Vendler 1967). Such situations are considered telic. Nevertheless, the analysis
of the corpus has shown that the existence of a goal does not necessarily imply that
the goal will be reached, since there are situations which tend towards a goal, but do
not reached it.
Furthermore, Declercks analysis (1979:761-793) revealed that telic situations
always imply a goal, but can be bounded or unbounded depending on whether the
goal is actually reached or not. Thus, bounded telic situations tend towards a goal
and reach it, while unbounded telic situations tend towards a goal but do not reach it.
There are atelic unbounded situations which do not imply a goal, thus the goal is not
reached. Such situations are activities and states.
The distinctive feature [+/- phases] determines whether the situation consists of
smaller segments and can be used in the progressive or not. The fact that activities
and accomplishments have internal structure makes them divisible into phases and
dynamic, thus they can be used in the progressive (Rothstein 2004:194).
Verbal classification (Aktionsart) and the semantic characteristics it is based on
in English language can be presented as follows:
223
Stativity Duration Telicity Boundedness Stages
Activities - + - - +
States + + - - -
Achievements - - + +/- -
Accomplishments - + + +/- +
Table 1: Verb classes and their distinctive features in English language
Therefore, it can be argued that English activities imply process and
development and thus last in time. They have homogenous segments which means
that any part of the process is of the same nature as the whole, in the sense that there
is no terminal point or goal to be reached. Thus, activities are atelic and dynamic,
they consist of different stages and can occur in the progressive. Activities are verbs
such as: run (a alerga), swim (a nota), walk (a se plimba)...
States last in time, they cannot be divided into segments, they do not denote a
process and development, and therefore they do not tend towards a goal. States
simply indicate that a characteristic or a situation exists. They are stative and
homogeneous, which means that all parts of a state are of equal quality. Thus, states
have only one stage, and they do not imply any change. States are verbs such as:
know (a ti), believe (a crede), love (a iubi)...
Achievements are punctual and telic. The whole situation expressed by an
achievement verb happens in one moment. Achievements are verbs and phrases such
as: find (a afla), lose (a pierde), reach the summit (a se urca pe vrful muntelui), win
a race (a nvinge n curs / alergare)...
Based on their semantic characteristics, it can be argued that English
accomplishments represent situations which last in time and tend towards a specified
goal. They are not homogeneous since there is a final point which introduces a
qualitative change or a natural end of the situation. The distinctive features of
accomplishments are [- stativity, + duration, + telicity, +/- boundedness, + phases].
Accomplishments are verbs and phrases such as: paint a picture (a picta o
pictur), run a mile (a fugi o mil), draw a circle (a desena un cerc), etc.
Accomplishments as such are not analyzed in Romanian linguistic literature.
Namely, the contemporary semantic classification of Romanian verbs is based on
two distinctive features [change] and [agentivity]. The distinctive feature [+ change]
implies some sort of a change, i.e. a change of state due to achievement of a goal or
simply a change of position. On the other hand, the distinctive feature [+ agentivity]
implies a conscious agent. According to this criterion we can distinguish three verb
classes: states (stri), events (evenimente) and activities (activiti).
Verbal classification (Aktionsart) and the semantic characteristics it is based on
in Romanian language can be presented as follows:
224
Change Agentivity
States - -
Events + -
Activities + +
Table 2: Verb classes and their distinctive features in Romanian language
For the purpose of this research, only Romanian events and activities were
analyzed since they show similarities with English accomplishments.
Romanian events (verbe de eveniment) denote situations with distinctive
features [+ change] and [- agentivity]. For example: a sca (dry), a crete (grow), a
mbtrni (grow old), etc.
(1) a. Rul a secat.
b. The river dried.
Thus, events involve a change from one state to another, but they do not require
a conscious agent. Thus, very often Romanian events involve an inanimate subject
or a process which happens independently of the subjects volition:
(2) a. Ion mbtrnete.
b. Ion is growing old.
Romanian events show similarities with English achievements (1) and
accomplishments (2), but English achievements and accomplishments may also
occur with a conscious agent.
Romanian activities (verbe de aciune) have the following distinctive features:
[+ change] and [+ agentivity]. For example: a alerga (run), a nota (swim), a nva
(study), a mnca (eat), a reapara (fix), strnge (collect), a tirmite (send), etc. It can
be argued that Romanian activities involve a change, which must not necessarily be
a change of state, but a change of position as well. Conscious agent is the crucial
element. Such verb classes are similar to Vendlers activities, achievements and
accomplishments.
It must be pointed out that it is only in the grammar published by the Romanian
Academy of Science (Brescu et al. 2005:326) that we can find similar verb classes
to those in English linguistic literature.
The analysis has shown that, based upon the relevant semantic characteristics,
we can distinguish a verb class which denotes a process tending towards a goal in
Romanian language as well. Consequently, some Romanian verbs do have identical
characteristics as English accomplishments.
Therefore, the distinctive features stativity, duration, telicity, boundedness and
stages can also represent characteristics of Romanian verbs, this leads to the
conclusion that the mentioned distinctive features may be prototypical and can be
applicable in other languages as well. Therefore, Romanian verbs can be described
as follows:
225
Stativity Duration Telicity Boundedness Stages
States + + - - -
Events - +/- +/- +/- +/-
Activities - +/- +/- +/- +
Table 3: Reinterpreted verb classes and their distinctive features in Romanian language
Syntactic tests (Vendler 1967, Dowty 1979, Rothstein 2004, Novakov 2005)
which are used to distinguish accomplishments from other verb classes are:
1. How long did it take to V (ct timp a trebuit s V) and for how long did one
V (n ct timp cineva a V). This test implies the existence of a goal:
(3) a. How long did it take to make a chair?
b. Ct timp a trebuit s construiasc un scaun?
2. The adverbial in X time (n X timp), also implies that a situation has a natural
end:
(4) a. He made a chair in ten hours.
b. A construit un scaun n zece ore.
3. The syntactic test if one stops Ving, one did not (dac cineva nceteaz s V,
el nu a V), is commonly used with accomplishments to denote that the goal must be
reached in order to denote the quality of the whole situation. For example:
(5) a. If he stops making a chair, he did not make it.
b. Dac nceteaz s construiasc un scaun, ea nu la construit.
2. The structure of accomplishments
There are many different hypothesis and theories about the internal structure
and meaning of accomplishments in the relevant linguistic literature. Namely, it is
an indisputable fact that accomplishments are situations which consist of a
preparatory activity and a goal. For example:
(6) a. John made a chair.
b. John a construit un scaun.
The whole situation consists of the activity of making the chair and the goal
represented by the finished or made chair. The segments which constitute this
situation are structurally different because the activity of making the chair is a
process of putting the parts together, which implies successive progress towards the
realization of the goal, i.e. the made chair. The activity and the goal create a
semantic entity which defines the accomplishment.
Nevertheless, linguists disagree with respect to the correlation between the
activity and the goal which constitute the accomplishment. Namely, some linguists
(Rothstein 2004:59) consider accomplishments to be derived form activities which
are made telic by resultative predicate. For example:
(7) a. Mary hammered the metal.
226
b. Mary a btut metalul cu ciocanul.
(8) a. Mary hammered the metal flat.
b. Mary a btut metalul cu ciocanul pn nu l-a fcut drept.
In example (7) activity implies that the subject was hammering the metal, while
the example (8) implies a qualitative change of the state of the metal in the sense
that it became flat as a result of the activity. On contrast, example (7) does not
involve such a change of the metal.
Other linguists (Verkuyl 1989, Mittwoch 1991) argue that accomplishments are
in fact achievements preceded by a preparatory activity which is activated in the
progressive:
(9) a. The train was arriving to the station.
b. Trenul sosea n gar.
Both achievements and accomplishments involve a change of state. The change
is connected to the goal or the culmination of the situation, i.e. to telicity. Thus, telic
situations have a goal which is lexically expressed. Direct object usually introduces
the notion of telicity with accomplishments. It can be argued that the direct object
plays an important role in determining the aspectual characteristics. For example:
(10) a. Mary built the house *for a year / in a year.
b. Mary a cldit casa ?un an / ntr-un an.
(11) a. Mary built houses for a year / *in a year.
b. Mary a cldit case un an / *ntr-un an.
(12) a. John pushed the cart for an hour / *in an hour.
b. John a mpins carul o or / * ntr-o or.
(13) a. John pushed carts for an hour / *in an hour.
b. John a mpins carele o or /* ntr-o or.
Namely, the examples show that accomplishments can show characteristics of
activities if the direct object is a plural or mass noun (example 11), while with
activities the structure of the direct object does not modify the aspectual
characteristics (examples 12 and 13).
However, the examples (11a,b) can be considered accomplishments since they
imply a goal which is clearly expressed and hypothetically can be reached. Thus, the
examples (11a,b) can be defined as unbounded telic situation.
In Romanian language, accomplishments can occur with both adverbials which
imply telicity and those which imply atelicity (example 10b), because telicity does
not depend on the meaning of the verb and its correlation with the direct object, but
on context.
It can be argued that the correlation between the verb and the direct object is
very important, especially when the progression of phases of the direct object is
concerned:
(14) a. Mary ate the apple.
b. Mary a mncat mrul.
The examples (14a,b) show the progression of the situation of Mary eating an
apple by observing the changes on the apple. This situation will last until Mary eats
227
the whole apple, i.e. until the situation reaches its culmination (the moment when the
whole apple is eaten).
Such accomplishments can be contrasted to activities such as run (a alerga, a
fugi) which can be telic if the length of running is determined by an adverbial, but
not the direct object:
(15) a. John ran for an hour.
b. John a alergat o or ntreag.
(16) a. John ran a mile in an hour.
b. John a alergat o mil intr-o or.
(17) a. John ran to the store in ten minutes.
b. John a alergat pn la prvlie n zece minute.
The examples show that both English and Romanian accomplishment verbs can
denote atelic situations like in examples (11), and the activity verbs can denote telic
situations like in examples (16 and 17). It must be pointed out that, in both
languages, the telicity of verb phrases containing accomplishment verbs depend on
the characteristics of direct objects, while the direct object does not influence the
telicity of verb phrases containing activity verbs. This is one of the basic differences
between activities and accomplishments.
The semantic correlation between the activity and the goal is crucial. With
accomplishment verbs, the verb implies that the goal will probably be reached. With
activity verbs there is not such implication since activities do not involve a goal. For
example, if somebody is building a house it is probable that he or she will build it
and if somebody is running towards a store, he will arrive there, as oppose to the
situation of running without a specified goal.
3. The goal
The terminology concerning telicity is very diverse. Some of the terms in
relevant linguistic literature are: goal, final point, terminal point, culmination,
natural end of the situation, telicity, boundedness, etc. Even though, the terminology
may cause problems, all the mention terms are based on the idea of a goal as a final
or end point which represents a qualitative change of a situation. After the goal has
been reached the situation cannot continue, it can only be repeated.
The goal is a very important aspectual characteristic for distinguishing verb
classes in both English and Romanian language.
The culmination or goal of a situation can be determined by the direct object in
the sense that the culmination occurs when the direct object is used up.
Nevertheless, culmination can be a result state or the beginning of a result state.
Namely, Rothstein (2004:103) argues that the core meaning of an accomplishment is
that it implies a change of a situation or a state of a situation. With lexical
accomplishments the result state of a situation is implied by the meaning of the verb.
However, this is not always the case. For example, with accomplishments derived
228
from resultative activities, where the activity itself does not influence the change of
the state of the situation:
(18) a. Every night the neighbours dog barks me asleep.
b. n fiecare sear cinile lui vecinu m adoarme ltrnd.
Thus, accomplishments are not always causative.
On the other hand, some achievements can be causative (for example: break
the vase / a sparge vaza). Thus, it can be argued that culmination is in fact
achievement or a minimal change of state connected with the end point, not a state
which is a result of a situation expressed by an activity verb. This means that an
accomplishment consists of and activity and an achievement. Furthermore, the
activity and achievement which create an accomplishment must be connected by an
incremental process, which indicates that something became something else
(BECOME event). The incremental process represents a qualitative change of a
situation and implies that the situation can be divided into smaller elements which
have a specified order (Rothstein 2004:103).
For that reason, culmination can be defined as the final minimal element in the
incremental process.
Situations can be telic or atelic depending on the existence of a goal. Telic
situations head towards a specified goal or final point after which the situation
naturally ends. In other words, the situation expresses by a telic verb or verb phrase
has a well defined end point which is a crucial part of the situation (Novakov 2008,
Smith 1986). Telic situations are always dynamic, which means that a constant input
of energy is needed in order to reach the goal.
In the Romanian linguistic literature, there is no such definition of telicity, only
Avram et al. (2001:65-68) mention telic/atelic distinction. This aspectual opposition
illustrates the way the situation is realized, but it is not analyzed nor discussed any
further. Telicity can be connected to Romanian distinctive feature [change] which in
some contexts denotes a change of the state of the situation, while in other a change
of position.
Hence, telic situations head towards a specified goal and have a natural final
point, while atelic do not. Since this aspectual distinction is considered one of
fundamental semantic characteristics of verbs, it exists in Romanian language as
well, but it has not yet been defined and analyzed in detail.
Telic and atelic situations can be illustrated by the following examples:
(19) a. John was singing.
b. John cnta.
(20) a. John made a chair.
b. John a construit un scaun.
The examples show that both telic and atelic situations can last in time, but
their internal structure differs. Situations which tend towards a goal have a natural
end point or terminal point, after which the situation cannot be continued. In other
words, when the chair is made, the making of the chair cannot be continued. The
subject can start making another chair. Telic situations represent a process which
leads up to a goal, as oppose to atelic situations (example 19).
229
However, telicity only indicates the existence of a goal. It does not specify
whether the goal is actually reached or not. Declerck (1979:761-793) offers some
solutions to this problem. In his article: Aspect and the Bounded/Unbounded
(Telic/Atelic) Distinction, he analyzes the semantic category of telicity and
differentiates between bounded and unbounded situations.
Bounded situations tend towards a goal and reach it, while unbounded do not
reach a goal, but may tend towards it. If an unbounded situation does not tend
towards a goal, it is atelic, whereas if it does, it is telic, but the goal is never reached.
Thus, bounded situations are always telic and always reach a goal. On the other
hand, unbounded situations can be telic or atelic depending on whether the goal is
reached or not. It can be argued that telic situations may be bounded or unbounded
depending or whether the goal is reached or not. Given that bounded and unbounded
situations are based upon basic semantic characteristics of verbs, it can be argued
that such situations exist in Romanian language as well, but they have not yet been
analyzed and defined in literature.
The difference between bounded and unbounded situations can be illustrated by
the following examples:
(21) a. He drank beer.
b. El a but bere.
(22) a. He drank three glasses of beer.
b. El a but trei pahare de bere.
The activity in sentences (21) is unbounded since the goal is not reached, while
the situations in (22) are bounded because the goal is reached (Declerck 1979:761).
Consequently, bounded and unbounded distinction, as well as telic and atelic
one does not depend on the meaning of the verb itself, but may be dependent on
other syntactic elements such as the direct object, subject, context, etc.
It can be argued that both telicity and boundedness can be connected to the
goal. Boundedness involves a linear progression towards a specified goal and the
attainment of that goal. Since there are telic situations where the goal in not actually
reached, it can be argued that there are significant differences between telicity and
boundedness: telic situations imply a goal, but do not specify whether the goal is
actually reached, while bounded situations state that the goal is reached, while
unbounded situations state that the goal is not attained. Therefore, telicity and
boundedness should be treated as different semantic characteristics of verbs and verb
phrases.
Should these definitions be implemented to different verb classes, it can be
argued that accomplishments in English and Romanian represent telic situations
which can be bounded or unbounded. Accomplishments which are bounded by a
goal are situations which attain that goal (examples 22), while unbounded
accomplishments are situations which imply a goal but do not reach it (examples
23). Unbounded accomplishments are often expressed by the progressive:
(23) a. He was drinking three glasses of beer.
b. El bea trei pahare de bere.
230
4. Lexical accomplishments
With lexical accomplishments the correlation between the activity and the goal
is lexically determined. Accomplishments such as build a house (a cldi o cas) and
read the book (a citi cartea) are lexical accomplishments since the very meaning of
the verbs build (a cldi) and read (a citi) imply that the process involves progression
of the direct object towards a specified goal, i.e. progress in building of the house
and reading of the book.
Rothstein (2004:108) writes that accomplishments are generated when process
and goal are imposed on activities. Accomplishment inherits the characteristics of an
activity and involves a change (BECOME event) which affects the direct object
during the course of the activity. The activity part of an accomplishment can be
simple or complex. For example, the verb build (a cldi) is complex because the
activity event consists of a multitude of different kind of activities which compose a
building event. This situation is telic since it culminates in the moment the house is
built. On the other hand, an event of reading involves a reading activity which
consists of a string of appropriately defined minimal reading activity events,
where a minimal reading event is an event of associating a perceived symbol, be it a
word or a morpheme, with a meaning. The activity is simple because it consists of
identical minimal elements which are repeated over and over again and determined
by the order of the given text. For instance, the situation read the story of Rapunzel
consists of minimal segments, which have a specified order and result in the read
story (Rothstein 2004:109).
On the other hand, in both languages, there are ambiguous verbs which can
have characteristic of both activities and accomplishments. Such are verbs
wipe/polish:
(24) a. John wiped/polished the table in five minutes.
b. John a ters masa n cinci minute.
(25) a. John wiped/polished the table for five minutes.
b. John a ters masa cinci minute.
Situations in (25) are considered activities consisting of a string of simple
minimal activities, while situations in (24) are accomplishments consisting of an
activity and a become event. These two meanings depend on whether a change of
state can be observed on the direct object after the activity took place. If there is no
change on the direct object the situation is considered an activity, if a change occurs
it is an accomplishment. Nevertheless, only examples in (24) can have a resultative
meaning:
(26) a. John wiped the table clean.
b. John a ters masa s fie curat.
To sum up, the structure of the situation is crucial in the semantics of
accomplishments, not just the relation between the verb and the direct object.
231
5. Derived accomplishments
With derived accomplishments there is no lexical information which implies a
change of state of the direct object. This paper will analyze two hypotheses
concerning the structure of accomplishments. The first hypothesis is introduced by
Rothstein (2004:108) who argues that accomplishments generate when development
and culmination are imposed to activity verbs. According to the second hypothesis
(Verkuyl 1989, Mittwoch 1991, Smith 1991) accomplishments are achievements
preceded by a very short preparatory activity.
5.1. Accomplishments derived from activities
With derived accomplishments, the correlation between the activity and the
goal is neither lexically nor semantically implied, as oppose to lexical
accomplishments where the meaning of the verb implies telicity. In other words,
reading a book or building a house implies the possibility that the house will be
built and the book will be read, whereas there is no such implication with situations
such as hammer the metal, since one can hammer the metal without causing any
change to the metal. Thus, the activity verb (hammer / bate) and the direct object
(metal / metalul) do not imply any change of state. Thus, there is no lexical
implication concerning the change of the state of the metal in both languages.
However:
(27) a. John hammered the metal flat.
b. John a btut metalul cu ciocanul pn nu l-a fcut drept.
In sentences (27) the resultative predicate (flat) in English or time clause (pn
nu l-a fcut drept) in Romanian introduce the goal and give information about the
state of the direct object after the activity took place.
It can be concluded that the meaning of the accomplishment is not based on the
relationship between the activity verb and the direct object, but on the change of
state or the BECOME event which may be indicated by a resultative predicate in
English or time clause in Romanian.
Some problems may occur with intransitive predicates since a direct object
must be introduced:
(28) a. John sang the baby asleep.
b. John a cntat bebeluului pn n-a adormit.
In this example, there is no lexical information about the semantic correlation
between the direct object and the verb. The resultative predicate asleep and the time
clause pn n-a adormit denote the state the baby is in after the goal has been
reached. Thus, the resultative predicate in English and the time clause in Romanian
indicate the change of state (BECOME event) and their minimal elements represent
the phases of the change. The very meaning of the activity verbs (sing / a cnta)
does not imply any change of state or culmination. Thus, it can be argued that the
direct object (baby / bebeluul) becomes involved in the situation of singing in the
232
sense that the activity verb can influence its change of state. Thus, the crucial
characteristic of accomplishments is the fact that the activity verb can introduce a
change of state of the direct object.
5.2. Accomplishments derived from achievements
Some linguists (Verkuyl 1989, Mittwoch 1991) argue that accomplishments are
derived from progressive achievements. As it was pointed out earlier, the correlation
between the direct object and the activity verb is very important with progressive
accomplishments; however it is not the case with progressive achievements. For
example:
(29) a. Mary was reaching the summit.
b. Mary ajungea pe vrful muntelui.
(30) a. Mary was climbing the mountain.
b. Mary se urca pe munte.
Examples (29a,b) show that the preparatory activity includes Mary, but not the
summit. Furthermore, unlike in lexical accomplishments, the direct object of reach /
a ajunge cannot be used directly in measuring the progress of the progressive
achievement. Namely, with progressive accomplishments (30a,b) the direct object is
involved in the situation in the sense that we can measure the progress of the
situation by measuring the mountain and see how much the subject has climbed. On
the other hand, the progressive achievement does not involve the summit, since we
cannot measure the summit.
6. Progressive achievements and progressive accomplishments
Achievements are momentary situations which are finished a soon as they start
and as such they should not occur in the progressive since the use of the progressive
implies that the situation is in progress. However, achievement verbs do occur in the
progressive (examples 31a,b). The analysis of progressive achievements can shed
light on the structure of both progressive achievements and progressive
accomplishments in both languages.
(31) a. Susan was arriving at the station when she saw John.
b. Susan ajungea la gar, cnd l-a vzut pe John.
It seems that the structure of progressive achievements is not much different
from the structure of progressive accomplishments:
(32) a. Dafna was painting a picture.
b. Dafna picta o pictur.
Many linguists (Verkuyl 1989, Mittwoch 1991, Smith 1991) argue that
accomplishments are in fact achievements preceded by a very short preparatory
activity which is activated in the progressive and that achievements used in the
233
progressive modify into accomplishments, which means that progressive
achievements and progressive accomplishments have the same characteristics.
However, Rothstein (2004:36-58) claims quite the opposite. She argues that
achievements interact with time adverbials in a different way than accomplishments.
Namely, accomplishments can occur with adverbials such as for X time (X timp) and
spend X time (a petrece X timp) and take over atelic meaning and consequently
modify into activities. Achievements, however, are ungrammatical with such
adverbials. For example:
(33) a. *The guests arrived for ten minutes.
b. *Oaspeii a sosit zece minute. / *timp de zece minute.
(34) a. Dafna read a book for an hour.
b. Dafna a citit cartea zece minute. / *timp de o or.
(35) a. *The guests spent an hour arriving.
b. * Oaspeii au petrecu o or sosind.
(36) a. Dafna spent an hour reading a book.
b. Dafna a petrecut o or citind.
Thus, it can be concluded that, unlike accomplishments, achievements do not
include a preparatory activity.
(37) a. John painted a picture in an hour ENTAILS John was painting a
picture during that hour.
b. John a pictat o pictur ntr-o or ENTAILS John picta o
pictur tot timpul n ora respectiv.
(38) a. The helicopter landed in an hour DOES NOT ENTAIL The
helicopter was landing during that hour.
b. Helicopterul a aterizat ntr-o or DOES NOT ENTAIL
Helicopterul ateriza tot timpul n ora respectiv.
With accomplishments the preparatory activity is lexically expressed, with
achievements it is contextually implied and it is not a part of the meaning of the
verb. Consequently, progressive achievements cannot be considered a part of a
bigger situation. This is why the progressive achievements and activities which
precede them can be easily separated and paraphrased. This is not the case with
progressive accomplishments since they represent a semantic whole with the
preparatory activity:
(39) a. It was very turbulent while the plane was landing, but we (actually)
landed smoothly.
b. A fost foarte turbulent in timp ce avionul ateriza, dar noi (de fapt)
am aterizat lin.
(40) a. *Mary was writing a book slowly, but she actually wrote it quickly.
b. Mary scria o carte incet, dar ea de fapt a scris-o repede.
On the other hand, in both languages, achievements but not accomplishments
may occur with adverbials which denote a specified moment like at X time (la X
timp):
(41) a. The guests arrived in an hour / at ten oclock.
234
b. Oaspeii a ajuns ntr-o or / la ora zece.
Both achievements and accomplishments are grammatical with adverbials
such as in X time (n X timp) which denote the moment the goal is reached:
(42) a. Dafna read a book in an hour / *at ten oclock.
b. Dafna a citit cartea ntr-o or / * la ora zece.
Furthermore, as oppose to progressive accomplishments, progressive
achievements can be used with adverbials which denote that the situation is in
progress (halfway through / la mijloc de, la jumtate de):
(43) a. She is halfway through walking to the station.
b. ?Ea este la jumtate de drum (de mers) spre gar. / Ea este la
mijloc de drum (de mers) spre gar
(44) a. *She is halfway through arriving at the station.
b. ?Ea este la jumtate de drum de sosire la gar. / Ea este la mijloc de
drum de sosire la gar.
Also, achievements occur with adverbials denoting a situation about to happen:
(45) a. The vase is falling. The vase is about to fall.
b. Vaza cade. Vaza tocmai cade.
(46) a. The train is arriving at the station. The train is about to arrive at
the station.
b. Trenul sosete n gar. Trenul tocmai sosete n gar.
But:
(44) a. Jane was building a house.
b. Jane cldea o cas.
is not the same as:
(45) a. Jane was about to build a house.
b. Jane tocmai a cldit o cas.
It can be concluded that there are differences in the meanings of
accomplishments and achievements, as well as in their use with certain adverbials,
and as a result accomplishments and achievements have different structures and
aspectual meanings. Achievements denote a momentary change of state, while
accomplishments last in time and include a preparatory activity. Thus, it can be
argued that progressive accomplishments are not the same as progressive
achievements.
7. Conclusion
This research is based on Vendlers classification of verbs into activities, states,
achievements and accomplishments (Vendler 1967:97-121). The Romanian
literature offers a different semantic classification of verbs into states (verbe de
stare), events (verbe de eveniment) and activities (verbe de aciune). The research
included the analysis of Romanian events and activities since they show similarities
with English accomplishments.
235
The analysis has proven that English accomplishments show similarities with
Romanian events and activities since they share the distinctive feature [+ goal] or [+
change] which denote a change of state of the situation in both languages. Thus, the
concept of a goal which determines a final point or natural end of a situation exists
both in Romanian and in English.
The research has shown that a verb class denoting a process leading up to a
goal can be distinguished in Romanian as well. Therefore, accomplishments as such
exist in Romanian language since verbal classification is based on the meaning of
verbs and verb phrases.
In can be concluded that accomplishments in both languages denote a process
which lasts in time and tends towards a goal which represents a qualitative change of
a situation i.e. its natural final point. The distinctive features of accomplishments are
[- stativity, + duration, + telic, +/- bounded, + phases].
The analysis of the corpus has proven that the culmination or the goal can be
specified by the direct object in the sense that the goal is reached once the direct
object is used up. Culmination can also denote a state or the beginning of a state
which is the result of the situation expressed by the main verb.
The essential question considered in this paper was whether accomplishments
are derived from activates modified by resultative predication or from achievements
modified by preparatory activity.
A detailed analysis of the structure of accomplishments in English and
Romanian has shown that accomplishments consist of a preparatory activity and a
goal which represents a natural end of the situation after which the situation in
question cannot continue.
Nevertheless, the correlation of the activity and the goal is of great importance
in defining accomplishments especially when progression and phases of the direct
object are considered. The analysis had shown that apart form the semantic
correlation between the activity and the goal, the structure of the situation s very
important. Namely, with derived accomplishments the correlation between the
activity and the goal is not determined by the meaning of the verb, as oppose to
lexical accomplishments where the notion of telicity is included in the verbal
semantics. Thus, it can be pointed out that the meaning of accomplishments is not
based on the correlation between the activity and the goal, but rather on the change
of state (BECOME event) which can be expressed by resultative predicate in English
or temporal clauses in Romanian. Therefore, accomplishments are derived from
activities which can become telic when a resultative predicate is added. In other
words, resultative predicates can appear with activity verbs and trigger a shift from
an activity to an accomplishment reading.
The paper also analyzed the hypothesis of accomplishments being derived form
achievements. Namely, some linguists argue that accomplishments are in fact
achievements preceded by a very short preparatory activity which is activated in the
progressive and that progressive achievements modify into progressive
accomplishments. But, the research had proven that achievements do not include the
236
preparatory activity before reaching the goal like accomplishments do. With
accomplishments the preparatory activity is lexically expressed, thus it is a part of
the verbal semantics. On the other hand, with achievements the preparatory activity
in contextually implied and it is not a part of the meaning of the verb. In addition,
the achievement and the preparatory activity can easily be distinguished and
separately paraphrased. This is not the case with accomplishments since the activity
and the goal make a semantic whole. The corpus has also shown differences of
adverbial use with achievements and accomplishments which implies that they have
different aspectual meanings and structure. Achievements represent momentary
changes of state, while accomplishments last and include the preparatory activity.
Therefore it can be concluded that progressive achievements are not the same as
progressive accomplishments.
Since accomplishments have not yet been analyzed nor defined in the
Romanian literature, one of the major contributions of this paper is the fact that it
detected the existence of this verb class in Romanian and defined it as well.
What is crucial, the paper defined the notion of telicity in Romanian language,
which has so far been identified as a distinctive feature [+ change] and considered a
distinction between the change of state of a situation and a change of position. Once
these binary distinctions have been separated and defined as telic and atelic a clear
distinction between Romanian activities and events was made which consequently
resulted in distinction of accomplishments from other verb classes in Romanian
language.
Since accomplishments are defined according to semantic features of verbs it
was expected that Romanian accomplishments are very similar to English
accomplishments. Nevertheless, differences do exist: the notion of telicity which is
one of the crucial parts of the meaning of accomplishments in Romanian is not
indicated by a resultative predicate, but via temporal clauses.
The fact that this paper proved the existence of accomplishments in Romanian
language as well may lead to the assumption that such verb class is a universal
language characteristic and may be considered a part of a universal grammar. The
fact that Romanian accomplishments are very similar to English accomplishments
further supports this claim.
References
Avram, M. et al. (2001). Enciclopedia limbii romne. Bucureti: Univers
enciclopedic. Academia romn, Institutul de lingvistic Iorgu Iordan.
Brescu, R. et al. (2005). Gramatica limbii romne. I Cuvntul. II Enunul.
Bucureti: editura Academiei romne. Academia romn, Institutul de
lingvistic Iorgu Iordan Al. Rosetti.
Brinton, L. (1988). The Development of English Aspectual Systems. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
237
Comrie, B. (1976). Aspect. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Dahl, . (1987). Tense and Aspect Systems. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Declerck, R. (1979). Aspect and the Bounded/Unbounded (Telic/Atelic)
Distinction. Linguistics 17-7/8. The Hague: Mouton, 761-794.
Luchian, T. (2007). Categoria funcional-semantic a aspectualitii n limba
romn. Available at: http:// www.cnaa.md/files/theses/2007/6781/tatiana_
luchian_abstract.pdf. Retreived on 25 January 2009.
Novakov, P. (2005). Glagolski vid i tip glagolske situacije u engleskom i srpskom
jeziku. Novi Sad: Futura publikacije.
Novakov, P. (2006). Pojmovnik strukturalne lingvistike (morfologija i sintaksa).
Novi Sad: Zmaj.
Quirk, R. et al. (1985). A Comprehensive Grammar of the English Language.
London and New York: Longman.
Rothstein, S. (2004). Structuring events: a study in the semantics of lexical aspect.
Blackwell Publishing Ltd.
Smith, C. (1991). The Parameter of Aspect. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic
Publishers.
Vendler, Z. (1967). Verbs and Times. Linguistics in Philosophy. Ithaca: Cornell
University Press, 97-121.
238
Maja Markovi
University of Novi Sad
[email protected]
ACQUIRING SECOND LANGUAGE PROSODY: FUNDAMENTAL
FREQUENCY
1
Abstract The study investigates the differences between prosodic aspects of speech
by native speakers of English and foreign learners whose native language is Serbian.
The paper is primarily concerned with fundamental frequency (F0) in terms of pitch
range, main stress and tunes. The study was carried out on the recorded material of
15 first year university students of English and a control native speaker of British
English. The recorded material was acoustically analyzed, compared and presented
statistically. The results indicate that (a) the non-native speakers speech is
characterized by a narrower pitch range, (b) the native speaker and the learners use
different prosodic cues to indicate main stress and (c) the tunes of the native
speakers utterances significantly differ from those of the learners.
Key words: intonation, Autosegmental-Metrical Phonology, typological
differences, suprasegmenal features.
1. Introduction
Although a great amount of work in the field of intonation research has been
done for various languages, comparative studies are rather scarce. Research on the
acquisition of L2 intonation is mainly concerned with comparisons of the L2
learners production to that of native speakers in the target language. The emergence
of a new, phonological model of intonation in the 1980s, namely, the
Autosegmental-Metrical model of intonational phonology, enabled a different
approach to the study of prosody cross-linguistically. Within this framework,
prosody is viewed in terms of structure and distinctive tonal categories (e.g.
Pierrehumbert 1980; Gussenhoven 1984; Liberman and Pierrehumbert 1984;
Beckman and Pierrehumbert 1986; Pierrehumbert and Hirschberg 1990; Ladd 1992,
1996). This approach has enabled to compare the prosody of languages in terms of
categorical, or typological differences, and prepared the ground for establishing
prosodic typology for most diversified languages.
1
The research presented in the paper is supported by the technological project The Develop-
ment of Dialogue Systems for Serbian and Other South Slavic Languages (TR32035) of the Ministry
of Science and Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia.
239
On the other hand, determining some of the differences between languages has
remained notoriously difficult (Mennen et al. 2007, 2008), especially when dealing
with experimental study of prosody of actual utterances, their fundamental
frequency and other suprasegmental features. What is more, pointing precisely to the
features that indicate the influence of ones L1 prosody on acquiring L2 intonation
has remained even more difficult.
Many of the comparative studies focused only on the comparison of native
speakers intonation and the imperfect achievements by non-native speakers (e.g.
Klein and Perdue 1997: 306). From the standpoint of language teaching
methodology, such an approach has certain relevance, because it helps overcome a
foreign accent. Yet, it fails to capture the learners system, i.e. the principles
governing the process of acquiring L2 prosody.
The research inevitably has to start from the real-life data produced by
speakers/learners, but the findings should be generalized so as to reveal the
principles behind the raw data, i.e. the categorical nature of the acquisition process.
2. Some theoretical notions
The term prosody refers to two aspects of spoken language: the prosodic
structure of an utterance and the prominence relations within the structure (Jun, Sun-
Ah 2006, Beckman 1996; Ladd 1996; Shattuck-Hufnagel and Turk 1996). The
prosodic structure is a hierarchical organization of prosodic units from the lowest
(mora or syllable) to the highest (intonational phrase (IP) or utterance). The role of a
unit in a prosodic structure determines the choice of a particular segment and the
realization of segments (vowels and consonants).
Prominence relations refer to the fact that within the given structure some units
are perceived as more prominent than others. Prominence is a perceptual
phenomenon, which combines various acoustic and auditory cues, such as intensity
(or loudness), duration (or length of a segment) and various events in the domain of
fundamental frequency usually in terms of pitch height and pitch movement.
Another important feature of prosody is that everything counts: the prosodic
property of an utterance is a combination of prosody at the word level (lexical
prosody) and prosody at higher levels: phonological phrase, intonational phrase and
utterance. The prosodic properties of lower-level prosodic segments (syllables and
moras) are language specific, and so are the ways they combine into higher-level
units (phonological word, phonological phrase, intonational phrase and utterance).
The suprasegmental features listed above together provide the basis of a
prosodic typology of languages. Languages may differ in the way they employ some
of the features whether the difference between low and high pitched syllables
occurs at the lexical or postlexical level, whether the prominent syllable is associated
with stress (in terms of intensity, i.e. loudness), whether there is a specific boundary
tone on the lexical level, whether the temporal organization is created around the
240
syllable or foot, as well as in terms of distinct higher organizational prosodic units
(cf. Jun, Sun-Ah 2006: 431-433).
A detailed list of typological features for 21 languages is proposed in Jun, Sun-
Ah (2006), summarized in a table where the features are given as a matrix of more
or less binary features, i.e. a language may or may not be marked for a specific
feature. The matrix can be used as the basis of comparing and contrasting prosodic
properties of different languages may. In addition, it provides an invaluable device
for predicting the potential difficulties a foreign learner may encounter while
mastering L2 prosody. In Table 1 below we give the matrices of prosodic features of
English and Serbian.
Prosody Prominence Rhythmic/prosodic unit
Lexical Postlexical Lexical Poslexical
Language Tone Stress LPA Head Edge Mora Syll foot ip IP
English x x x x x
Serbian x x x x x x
Table 1: Typological prosodic features of English and Serbian. Symbol x marks the
presence of a feature. LPA stands for lexical pitch accent, ip for intermediary phrase, IP for
intonational phrase (on the basis of Jun, Sun-Ah 2006: 444)
By providing such an elegant account, the differences and similarities between
the prosody of English and Serbian are rather obvious: the features shared by the
two languages are: (a) stress, as a significant component of prominence; (b) in both
languages the head of a unit bears prominence; (c) the rhythm of both languages is
organized around phonological feet; (d) both languages have IP as a higher unit of
prosodic organization.
Based on the features which are different between the two languages, we can
predict the difficulties that the native speaker of Serbian may encounter while
acquiring the prosody of English as a second language. The differences, which are
expected to be the source of transfer in acquiring the other language, are the
following:
(a) The existence of a lexical pitch accent in Serbian, which does not exist in
English. Lexical pitch accents are the falling and rising tones at the word
level, traditionally divided into four categories short falling, long falling,
short rising and short rising accents.
2
(b) Serbian words are demarcated by a significant low tone at the beginning
(marked %L), as was first proposed by Godjevac (2000, 2006). Godjevac
(2006: 155) explains this tone on the basis of combining words into higher
prosodic units. It shows as a dip between two accented words, while in
English there is rather a straight pitch curve.
2
In Standard Serbian the term rising is somewhat misleading, because it does not indicate a
rising tone, but rather the fact that the syllable following this accent has a higher pitch.
241
(c) In English, there is evidence for the existence of an intermediate prosodic
constituent, i.e. phonological phrase (also called minor phrase, intermediate
phrase a prosodic unit containing more than one lexical word). According
to Godjevac, the units above the foot are the phonological word, and then
intonational phrase. This is reflected in the different organization of units in
the two languages.
3. Analysis of raw data: Acoustic measurements
Quantification of concrete prosodic events, however, has to be based on precise
acoustic measurements of utterances produced by speakers, and is therefore much
less elegant. The prosodic features regarding fundamental frequency (F0) are
realized along two dimensions: pitch range and pitch level. Pitch range is defined as
the span between the highest and lowest frequencies of an utterance. Pitch level is
used in two different ways, either as register, i.e. the median value of frequencies, or
in the sense of pitch height and movement.
Pitch range is, more or less anecdotally, usually blamed for some of the
perceived differences in the intonation of different languages, but the actual research
data seem to persistently counter such claims (Mennen et al.2007, 2008). Pitch level,
in the sense of typical pitch height or register, also seems to play an important role
in the perception of intonation. Apparently, the predominance of higher or lower
tones is to a great extent language specific.
In addition, seemingly identical prosodic structures may be demarcated by
different pitch events in different languages.
The question that inevitably arises when one ventures to carry out laboratory
research on prosody in different languages is where to draw a line between the so
called phonetic differences, and the differences which are actually typological.
One could argue that differences are generally phonetic, i.e., resulting merely from
the differences in the habits of speakers of a language. However, the results of our
research indicate that sometimes it is difficult to show precisely where phonetics
ends and phonology takes over: the two are interrelated, and the differences in the
phonetic realization in many cases stem from the typological, i.e. categorical
differences between two languages.
4. Research: methods, subjects, material
4.1. The scope and goals of the research
The goal of the study presented here was to compare the prosodic features of
English produced by native speakers of Serbian to those of native speakers. Bearing
in mind that the two languages are typologically different, we set the following
goals: (a) to find out which prosodic elements can be attributed to the transfer of
242
native language prosody; (b) to determine which of the features are due to the
typological, i.e. phonological/categorical differences between the two languages,
both in terms of the inventory of phonologically distinct intonational elements and in
terms of their distribution; (c) to determine which of the features are not categorical,
but simply arise from the differences in the phonetic realization.
According to Ladd (1996: 119) there are four areas where languages differ in
intonation: semantic differences differences in the meaning of tunes; systemic
differences differences in the inventory of phonologically distinct types;
realizational differences differences of phonetic detail; and phonotactic
differences differences in tune-text association and the permitted structure of
tunes.
The problems of acquiring L2 intonation arise along the same lines. We have
not taken into account the first dimension of Ladds classification (semantic
difference), because it is not relevant in terms of linguistic prosodic structure, but is
rather extra-linguistic in its nature.
The choice of material is therefore a narrative text, which does not allow
considerable variation in the semantic interpretation. At the same time, we chose to
analyze intonation in read text, because it serves as the best basis of comparison.
4.2. Participants and material
The participants of the research were 15 first year female students of English at
the University of Novi Sad. They are rather proficient in English, as the entrance
exam requirement at the English Department is the B2 level in the Common
European Framework of Reference for Languages. The average length of learning
English for all participants is nine years. The subjects were chosen on the basis of
their regional background, so that they speak the same variety of Standard Serbian.
The material analyzed consisted of six declarative sentences, the first part of a
narrative text the subjects read aloud. The same material was read by two female
speakers of British English, whose utterances were used as control values. For the
sake of our analysis, the material was further broken into 8 intonational units.
4.3. Procedure
The participants were recorded in the sound-proof room at the Faculty of
Philosophy in Novi Sad and the recordings were sampled at 44.1 Hz sampling rate.
The tool used for the analysis of the acoustic values was Praat software for the
analysis of speech (Version 5.1.23, Boersma and Weenink 2010).
In this analysis we used the option of speech resynthesis and pitch stylization,
where the original pitch contour is approximated by resynthesized contour, based on
pitch targets, changes in slope and interpolation between targets. Due to the great
inconsistences between the native speakers and learners prosody, it was concluded
243
that the only relevant results could be obtained by comparing significant prosodic
landmarks (boundary tones at word and IP level). All of the landmark frequencies
were measured and compared in Hz and semitones (ST). The results of
measurements were analyzed statistically and compared for each intonational unit.
5. Results and discussion
Table 2 summarizes the mean values of the following measurements: the
median value of frequencies (abbr. Mean F0), the highest fundamental frequency
(Max). the lowest fundamental frequency (Min) and pitch range, i.e. the span
between the two, calculated as the difference between the maximum and minimum
F0 (Max-Min). The table also contains the information on standard deviation in the
F0 values. The values were analyzed for each intonational unit of the recorded text.
Value Native speakers Average for Serbian speakers
It seemed to take an age to get there
MEAN F0 210.4 222.2
ST.DEV. 67.5 52.5
MAX 321.9 301.4
MIN 103.7 144.6
MAX-MIN (SPAN) 218.2 156.8
but eventually the bus stopped
MEAN F0 189.7 210.5
ST.DEV. 75.7 36.8
MAX 289.5 272.4
MIN 91.9 171.3
MAX-MIN (SPAN) 197.6 101.1
We'd got to the terminus and everyone got out
MEAN F0 210.8 213.8
ST.DEV. 60.9 50.8
MAX 323.9 271.7
MIN 116.3 117.8
MAX-MIN (SPAN) 207.6 153.9
We were somewhere in the commercial district
MEAN F0 221.4 223.2
ST.DEV. 74.8 39.2
MAX 317.8 288.3
MIN 93.9 180.3
MAX-MIN (SPAN) 223.9 108.0
but I wasn't sure where
MEAN F0 203.0 185.0
244
ST.DEV. 61.4 64.0
MAX 250.4 271.6
MIN 81.1 92.4
MAX-MIN (SPAN) 169.3 179.2
I couldn't recognize anything
MEAN F0 200.3 214.5
ST.DEV. 69.7 46.9
MAX 281.0 275.2
MIN 90.6 147.8
MAX-MIN (SPAN) 190.4 127.4
The others hurried off
MEAN F0 221.6 181.1
ST.DEV. 63.9 52.5
MAX 329.8 246.1
MIN 136.9 96.4
MAX-MIN (SPAN) 192.9 149.7
I hesitated wondering which way to start
MEAN F0 218.0 222.5
ST.DEV. 71.0 41.8
MAX 324.0 285.3
MIN 83.2 154.8
MAX-MIN (SPAN) 240.8 130.6
Table 2: The results of F0 measurements the median value of frequencies (Mean F0), the
highest fundamental frequency (Max), the lowest fundamental frequency (Min) and the span
(the difference between the maximum and minimum F0)
The results indicate consistent differences between the native speakers
prosody and that of the subjects of our research.
There is clear evidence for pitch range differences between SBE speaker and
native speakers of Serbian. While the average value of the difference between the
highest and lowest F0 values is 205 Hz in the production of the native speakers, it
does not exceed 138 Hz in the learners production. However, the measurements
indicate that this difference is not conclusively a consequence of higher H* in
English, but rather the consistently lower L* in Serbian, and also a greater variability
between H* and L*. This is also obvious from the greater values of STDEV in the
native speakers pronuniation throughout the analyzed material.
However, the most significant difference between the subjects and native
speakers prosody perceived seems to be the consequence of typological differences.
As was noted in Table 1, one of the typological differences between Serbian and
English prosody is the fact that Serbian is marked for a lexical boundary (or edge)
tone, %L. In terms of Metrical-Autosegmental Phonology, it is a low tone occurring
at the left edge (beginning) of each accented lexical item (cf. Godjevac 2006, in Jun,
245
Sun-Ah 2006). The presence of a low boundary tone at the left edge of words
clearly transferred from the subjects L1 into L2 seems to correlate greatly with the
perceived level of proficiency in L2 (although this correlation was not systematically
dealt with in this study).
The low left edge boundary tone is a typological feature of Serbian, and it does
not occur in English. This particular feature is responsible for the auditory
impression of a kind of jagged intonation in the production of English by L2
speakers of Serbian (and other South Slavic languages): while in English the
prosody of words is computed into the prosody of phrases, in Serbian, every
lexical word is marked for the prosodic features at word level, including the L% tone
at the left word edge. If this feature is transferred into English, there is a strong
impression of foreign accent.
This difference can be seen in the pitch contours of the same recorded extracts
of native English speakers and Serbian learners of English. Figures 1 and 2 illustrate
the intonational contour of the sentence It seemed to take an age to get there,
produced by a native speaker of Serbian (Figure 1) and a native English speaker
(Figure 2). While the native English speaker gives single intonational contours to the
phrases [seemed to take] and [get there] (Fig. 1), the learner uses a single intonatonal
slope for each of the lexical items [seemed], [take], [get] and [there] (Fig. 2).
Figure 1: Intonational contour of the sentence It seemed to take an age to get there
produced by one of the native speakers
246
Figure 2: Intonational contour of the sentence It seemed to take an age to get there
produced by one of the subjects
Another difference present throughout the recorded material was found at the
right boundaries of intonational phrases signalling incompleteness. The presence of
a LH% tone at the right boundaries of sentence medial IPs, is transferred from L1,
where this kind of tone is generally used to signal incompleteness, or continuation.
The native speaker uses either falling tone (HL%) or falling rising tone
(HLH%) tone in the same context. This is illustrated by Figures 3 and 4, which show
the pitch contour at the ending portion of the first clause of the sentence We were
somewhere in the commercial district [but I wasnt sure where].
247
Figure 3: Intonational contour of the clause We were somewhere in the commercial district,
produced by one of the subjects. The IP right boundary tone is a typical falling tone (HL%)
Figure 4: Intonational contour of the clause We were somewhere in the commercial district,
produced by one of the subjects. The IP right boundary tone is transferred from Serbian,
being a typical rising tone (LH%) used to signal continuation
248
Another difference perceived refers to the sentence stress. Native speakers of
Serbian commonly fail to mark the most strongly stressed words in the same way as
the native speakers do. These words tend to be less prominent and distinct than in
the production of native speakers: they are lower pitched, they have a shorter
duration and lower intensity in the foreign speakers production. It can be seen in
Figures 1 and 2 on the example of the word age, and in Figures 3 and 4 in the
second syllable of the word commercial.
6. Conclusions and further lines of research
It may be tempting to claim that among the differences observed, only the
boundary tones and nuclear stress properties are phonological (categorical), whereas
the other characteristics are phonetic, i.e. the matter of detail. However, things are
obviously not so clear-cut, and they certainly require a much closer scrutiny.
Among the differences that can undoubtedly be classified as categorical are the
word edge tone in Serbian and the difference in the IP boundary tone in the two
languages. We believe that the analysis provides strong evidence for the existence of
the word boundary %L tone at the left edge of stressed words in Serbian, which also
correlates with the observed intonational transfer in L2. Being part of the systematic
prosodic structure in Serbian, it is certainly not simply the matter of phonetic
difference, but rather of phonological/categorical nature. The IP which consistently
indicates transfer is the sentence internal IP tone indicating continuation while the
English speakers use either HL% or HLH% IP boundary tones, the speakers of
Serbian tend to use LH%.
The research has also shown that the values of F0 per se seem not to be a
relevant factor of intonational transfer: native speakers of Serbian seem to use a
repertoire of low and high pitch on a par with the native speakers, regardless of the
perceived transfer, i.e. a strong foreign accent.
The research presented here has opened up many new questions related to the
acquisition of prosodic features, but also the questions of need for a more refined
typological account of Serbian.
Further work is under way in order to investigate the reasons for perceived
higher pitch in English, especially BE, as well as to determine the correlation
between the level of proficiency in English as L2, the perceived intonational
imperfection and the presence of the observed aspects of transfer.
References
Beckman, M. and Pierrehumbert, J. (1986). Intonational structure in Japanese and
English, Phonology Yearbook 3. 255-309.
Boersma, P., Weenink, D. 2006. Praat (Version 5.1.23). http://www.praat.org.
249
Godjevac, S. (2000), 'Intonation, Word Order, and Focus Projection in Serbo-
Croatian', Ph.D. dissertation (Ohio State University).
Godjevac, S. 2006. Transcribing Serbo-Croatian intonation. In Jun, Sun-Ah (ed.)
Prosodic Typology - The Phonology of Intonation and Phrasing.Oxford: OUP,
146-171.
Gussenhoven, C. (1984). On the Grammar and Semantics of Sentence Accents.
Dordrecht: Foris.
Jun, Sun-Ah (Ed). (2006). Prosodic Typology: The Phonology of Intonation and
Phrasing. Oxford Linguistics: Oxford.
Klein W. and Perdue, C. (1997). The basic variety (or: Couldnt natural languages
be much simpler?). Second Language Research 13 (4). 301-347.
Ladd, D. R. 1996. Intonational Phonology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Ladd, R. (1992). An Introduction to Intonational Phonology, in G. Docherty and D.
R. Ladd (eds.), Papers in Laboratory Phonology II: Gesture, Segment, Prosody
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), 321-4.
Liberman, M. and Pierrehumbert, J. (1984). Intonational Invariance under Changes
in Pitch Range and Length', in M. Aronoff and R. Oehrle (eds.), Language
Sound Structure (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press), 157-233.
Mennen, I., Schaeffler, F., Docherty, G. J. (2007). Pitching It Differently: a
Comparison of the Pitch Ranges of German and English Speakers. Proceedings
of the 16th International Congress of Phonetic Sciences. Saarbrcken,
Germany.
Mennen, I., Schaeffler, F., Docherty, G. J. (2008) A methodological study into the
linguistic dimensions of pitch range differences between German and English,
Proceedings of the 4
th
Conference on Speech Prosody, University of Campinas,
Pierrehumbert, J. (1980). The Phonology and Phonetics of English Intonation. PhD
dissertation, MIT: Cambridge, MA.
Pierrehumbert, J. and Hirschberg, J. (1990). The Meaning of Intonation Contours in
the Interpretation of Discourse', in P. R. Cohen, J. Morgan, and M. E. Pollack
(eds.), Intentions in Communication (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press), 271-311.
Pierrehumbert, J., Beckman, M. (1988). Japanesetone structure. MIT: Cambridge,
MA Press.
Radel, M. (2004). The Intonation of declarative and interrogative sentences in L2
Spanish by L1 speakers of German. M.A. Thesis: University of Hamburg,
Germany.
Shattuck-Hufnagel, S. and Turk, A. (1996)., 'A Prosody Tutorial for Investigators of
Auditory Sentence Processing', Journal of Psycholinguistic Research, 25/2:
193-247.
250
Davor Menzildi
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
AN ERROR ANALYSIS OF SERBIAN ENGLISH MAJORS WRITTEN
PRODUCTIONS
Abstract This paper aims to provide a classification and analysis of errors found in
the written production of three different generations of students at the English
Department of Novi Sad University, as well as determine whether there is a
significant variance in error count or type between different generations of students.
The ratio of interlingual to intralingual errors in the students interlanguages is
determined through a quantitative and qualitative analysis of grammatical, lexical
and orthographical errors. In addition to confirming the hypotheses that grammatical
errors most often occur when there is a gap in the native language grammar (mainly
determiners / articles) and that the students commit more intralingual than
interlingual errors (as is expected of advanced EFL learners), the paper will try to
shed some light on the factors that might be held responsible for the occurrence of
some types of errors and propose ways to overcome them.
Key words: Error analysis, EFL / ESL, advanced learners, interlanguage,
intralingual errors, interlingual errors.
1. Introduction
Ellis (1985) defines second language acquisition (SLA) as the subconscious or
conscious process by which a non-native language is learnt in a natural or a tutored
setting. Error analysis had been used by language teachers all over the world even
before the advent of SLA literature. These informal studies were used to determine
learner progress in acquiring a foreign language and to establish language areas to
focus on. Drawing parallels and distinctions between L1 and L2 has also been a
useful tool in a language teachers arsenal.
Both of these intuitive concepts were formalized by Corder (1967), along with
the notion of transitional competence, which was used to denote each individual
learners independent system of language. Later, Selinker (1972) formulated the
interlanguage theory, wherein interlanguage is defined as the separateness of a
second language learners system, a system that has a structurally intermediate status
between the native and target languages.
Nemser (1971) used the term approximative systems and Corder (1971)
further refined the transitional competence concept into the term idiosyncratic
251
dialect. All of these contain the notion that second language learners develop their
own language system that is independent of, but contains features of both L1 and
L2.
Brown (1994) states that there are four stages of interlanguage development:
random errors, emergent, systematic stage, and the stabilization stage, each with a
higher consistency of error-free production than the last, with the fourth stage being
the first one where learner self-correction is evident. This, however, does not apply
to the language system as a whole. Hence, a learner could be in the fourth stage of
the passive voice, yet in the third stage of determiner use.
2. Error types
The first important distinction in error analysis made by Corder (1967) is the
one between errors and mistakes. Mistakes are inadvertently caused by a lapse of
concentration, lack of attention, fatigue, or similar factors, while errors represent
gaps in the acquisition of the target language system. Thus, mistaking an error for a
mistake would be an error.
The main processes that cause learner errors in their intermediate language
systems are interlingual and intralingual transfer. The former refers to the
inappropriate use of patterns from the mother tongue in the target language, or L1
interference. The latter is caused by over-generalizations or a partial or incomplete
application of the rules of the target language system.
Brown (1994) categorizes errors as ones of addition, omission, substitution,
and ordering at the word, sentence or discourse level. Further classification is
achieved through considering different aspects of the language system such as
lexicon, orthography, grammar, phonology, discourse, etc. Additionally, errors can
be classified as global or local, according to whether they hinder communication or
not, respectively. There are more proposed categories and classifications of errors in
SLA literature; however, the aforementioned distinctions are the only ones that
pertain to this study.
3. The present study
This article will present the results of a quantitative and qualitative error
analysis of the written productions of three different generations of students at the
English Department of Novi Sad University enrolled in consecutive years, namely
2007, 2008, and 2009. Most students accepted to the English Language and
Literature program at Novi Sad University are advanced learners with a high English
language competence. However, the test administered prior to their acceptance is in
greater part designed for determining receptive language competence, with only
intermittent productive competence components. Thus, written productions were
252
chosen as the target for error analysis, as producing an English text requires the
amalgamation of various aspects of the language system.
The aims of the study are threefold. The first aim is to determine the types and
frequency of errors the students commit in a productive task. The second goal is to
discover how many of their errors stem from L1 interference. Finally, the third aim
is to compare the error count and error types between the different generations of
students in order to establish whether there are any differences and whether any
trends can be noted.
The hypotheses are that grammatical errors will most often occur when there is
a gap in the native language grammar, that the students will commit considerably
more intralingual than interlingual errors, as is expected of advanced EFL learners,
and that there will be no statistically significant differences in error count or type
between the different generations of students.
4. Method
The subjects chosen for this study are 45 adult native speakers of the Serbian
language and students at the English Department of Novi Sad University. At the
time of producing the English texts analyzed in this study, they were all in their third
semester of studies.
The instrument is a writing task that is a regular part of the Integrated
Language Skills 3 course. The task selected was writing about a hobby in the form
of an article. This topic was deemed suitable because it enabled the students to use
vocabulary related to fields and matters with which they were already familiar. The
expected word count was approximately 250 words and the suggested register
neutral. The use of writing and editing aids, such as grammar books and dictionaries,
was allowed, with the only restriction being a time limit of 75 minutes, which should
have afforded them ample time for editing and revising their work.
Anything outside the boundaries of standard English use was marked as an
error due to the availability of editing aids and for maintaining objectivity. Although
some of the errors may well have been mistakes, ascertaining whether a deviation
from accepted language use is an error or a mistake requires analyzing a particular
subjects multiple productions and even then retains a component of subjectivity.
There were very few irregularities where the likelihood of them being mistakes was
high, but even those cases showed an even spread in the research sample, so they
could not have had a measurable impact on the results.
The data collection process started with a random selection of 15 written
productions from each generation of students (2007, 2008, and 2009). These 45
hand-written texts were converted into Microsoft Word documents with the help of
speech recognition software. The written productions were not altered in any way,
thus preserving all errors and deviations. Microsoft Word provided the readability
statistics for each text.
253
Next, the errors were marked, categorized and counted. For the purposes of this
study, discourse-level and stylistic errors were ignored, as students in their third
semester of studies are not expected to have mastered these aspects, and some of
these could be somewhat subjective in nature. The errors were categorized into
grammatical (G), lexical (L), and orthographic (O) for the quantitative analysis, with
a qualitative breakdown of each of these categories performed to find specific
problems in language use and to establish the ratio of interlingual to intralingual
errors.
Finally, analyses of variance (anovas) in the form of two-tailed students t-tests
were performed to ensure that the datasets were comparable and to determine
whether there were any statistically significant differences between the datasets.
5. Results
2007 2008 2009 Overall
Words 303.0 256.9 284.7 281.5
Characters 1377 1143 1270 1263
Paragraphs 4.60 4.27 4.40 4.42
Sentences 20.00 15.33 15.80 17.04
Sentences per Paragraph 4.54 3.83 3.75 4.04
Words per Sentence 15.54 17.14 18.91 17.20
Characters per Word 4.37 4.30 4.32 4.33
Passive Sentences 3.53% 2.60% 6.00% 4.04%
Flesch Reading Ease 68.11 69.60 67.81 68.51
Flesch-Kincaid Grade
Level
7.55 7.79 8.42 7.92
Table 2: Readability statistics
Table 1 shows the readability statistics, as provided by Microsoft Word.
Anovas indicated no significant differences between the datasets in most cases.
Statistically significant differences (p < 0.05) between datasets 2007 and 2008 were
detected in word count, character count and the number of sentences; datasets 2007
and 2009 showed differences in the number of sentences and words per sentence,
while a comparison of datasets 2008 and 2009 yielded no significant differences
whatsoever.
254
Since the research sample was chosen randomly, it reflects a variety of marks.
The articles were marked on a scale of 0 to 100, and the average marks were 86.73,
84.60, and 78.40 for datasets 2007, 2008, and 2009, respectively. While the gap
between datasets 2007 and 2009 seems somewhat large, the anova showed no
significant difference (p > 0.1).
The total number of errors in the study was 703. However, in order to minimize
the impact of diverse word counts, all the error counts reported henceforth will be in
a standardized measure of errors per 100 words. Table 2 shows the errors counts
(grammatical, lexical, orthographic, and total) for each generation of students, as
well as the averages for the entire research sample.
G L O Total
2007 2.07 1.43 1.30 4.80
2008 2.21 1.09 2.34 5.63
2009 2.15 1.05 3.07 6.27
Average 2.14 1.20 2.21 5.55
Table 3: Error counts
In the interest of establishing whether the types of errors were similar in all the
datasets, a qualitative breakdown of the grammatical, lexical, and orthographic
categories was performed. In the grammatical category, four main problem areas
were noted: the use of determiners, prepositions, verbs, and problems with sentence
structure. The lexical category was broken down into: inappropriate word sense,
collocation, L1 interference, and word use. The category of orthographic errors was
subdivided into punctuation and spelling errors. The ratio of these error sub-
categories for each dataset is shown in Tables 3, 4, and 5. A further breakdown of
these sub-categories with error examples is addressed in the next section of the
article.
2007 2008 2009
Determiners 54% 47% 49%
Prepositions 16% 12% 11%
Verbs 9% 16% 14%
Structure 21% 25% 26%
Table 4: Grammatical ratios
255
2007 2008 2009
Sense 55% 62% 71%
Collocation 19% 10% 9%
L1 interference 20% 17% 18%
Word use 6% 11% 2%
Table 5: Lexical ratios
2007 2008 2009
Punctuation 51% 54% 58%
Spelling 49% 46% 42%
Table 6: Orthographic ratios
Finally, a qualitative analysis was used to establish the amount of L1
interference in the written productions. This was not the result of labeling whole
categories or sub-categories as interlingual or intralingual (with the exception of the
one lexical error sub-category); each error was scrutinized individually and L1
interference determined on a case-by-case basis. The resulting interlingual to
intralingual error ratio for each dataset and the research sample as a whole is shown
in Table 6.
2007 2008 2009 Total
Interlingual 28% 21% 20% 23%
Intralingual 72% 79% 80% 77%
Table 7: L1 interference ratios
6. Discussion
The goal for students at the English Department of Novi Sad University, as far
as proficiency in the English language is concerned, is native-like competence. In a
similar study featuring native English speakers as some of the subjects,
Ehrensberger-Dow and Ricketts (2003) note that 3 or 4 errors per 100 words can be
considered native-like for this type of text. That study, however, takes into account
errors in style and coherence and cohesion in addition to grammatical, lexical and
orthographic errors. By subtracting the error counts of errors not featured in this
256
study, a new baseline of 2 errors per 100 words (most of which are orthographic)
can be established. The results of this study indicate room for improvement, with the
only metric approaching the native-like baseline being the orthographic errors in
dataset 2007. However, the subjects were only in their third semester of studies, and
their results are comparable to the results of Italian and German speakers featured in
the aforementioned study, all of whom were in their final semester of a translation
program.
Only one somewhat disconcerting trend can be noted, namely the steady
increase in orthographic errors in successive generations. The most probable reason
for this is the influence of the media. In Serbia, adoption rates for cable TV and
Internet use have been increasing yearly, allowing an ever-greater percent of the
population to acquire parts of the English language exclusively through aural
stimuli, which creates spelling problems for native English speakers as well. The
Internet, due to its abundance of user-created and unscreened content, is not exactly
a bastion of correct spelling, let alone punctuation, yet punctuation errors can also be
attributed to disparate standards and simple carelessness.
The qualitative breakdown of the main error categories showed no significant
differences in error types between the different generations of students. As
hypothesized, errors in the use of determiners dominate the category of grammatical
errors. The misuse of articles (e.g. change the world from political standpoint)
accounts for nearly all determiner errors, with other irregularities involving
determiners (e.g. too much paper animals) appearing only sporadically. Preposition
errors (e.g. go into incredible adventures) did not feature prominently in the
grammatical error category, which only reinforces the notion that the subject are
advanced EFL learners. In the sub-category of errors in verb use, the most common
were errors in tense (e.g. Previously, type of games help us), while errors concerning
aspect (e.g. Then, you may be feeling full and satisfied.), voice (e.g. Another reason
to involve in this activity), and form (e.g. to lost some time in traffic) had an even
distribution. The wide-ranging sub-category of sentence structure consisted in equal
parts of word order errors (e.g. asks you where is the center), various agreement
errors (e.g. you like writing songs, and you like to about its melody), using the wrong
word class (e.g. help you think positive.), errors where certain sentential or clausal
elements were omitted entirely (e.g. Your hobby is measured in centimeters, or
smaller.), and other errors too few in number to warrant categorization.
In the lexical category, errors involving the use of a word the sense of which is
inappropriate to the context (e.g. this article would pursue you to try) constituted a
majority, which is surprising given the level of the learners. However, the lines
between the sub-categories of lexical errors are somewhat blurry as there is some
overlap between them. Errors due to L1 interference (e.g. learn us how to function)
were next in frequency. The interlingual nature of the error in the example is evident
from the fact that, in Serbian, the verb nauiti means both to teach and to
learn depending on the arguments it takes. Inappropriate collocations (e.g. to
practice exercise) were not featured heavily in the research sample, while word use
errors, such as attempting to use an uncountable noun as a countable one (e.g. there
257
are many researchs), were rarer still. The category of lexical errors consistently
showed the lowest error counts, which could be explained by students writing about
topics they were intimately familiar with and their vocabulary choices being safe,
and of limited range.
Spelling errors (e.g. searching for bigger chalanges) were the most numerous
ones in the orthographic category, which is somewhat surprising as the students
were allowed the use of dictionaries. The punctuation sub-category consisted mainly
of errors in comma use (e.g. If you accept this challenge you wont regret it), the
main source of which was a failure to mark off a main clause after a long initial
sentence element, be it an adverbial or a dependent clause. While these cannot be
considered grievous errors by most standards, the comma misuse that was next in
frequency, namely the comma splice, can be a cause for concern. Run-on sentences
were not an infrequent occurrence, indicating that some of the students still struggle
with complex sentence structure. Other punctuation errors included comma use in
lists and with relative clauses, irregularities in quotations, and omitted apostrophes.
Orthographic error counts could be reduced by increasing student exposure to high-
quality English texts, as well as adopting department-wide punctuation standards
that would be strictly enforced.
The qualitative analysis pertaining to interlingual and intralingual transfer
yielded a high ratio of intralingual to interlingual errors, confirming the initial
hypothesis, which was predicated on the fact that interlingual errors abound only in
the early stages of interlanguage development. Of interest in this study were the
type, source, and frequency of interlingual errors in the students interlanguages.
Expectedly, the overwhelming majority of L1 interference errors (68%) appeared in
the form of article misuse, as Serbian grammar lacks this category altogether.
However, labeling the whole sub-category of article errors as interlingual in nature
would be remiss, so only instances of article omission, where the transfer from
Serbian is straightforward, were treated as such. Examples where a superfluous
article was used were considered cases of learners over-generalizing L2 rules and, as
such, moved to the intralingual category. The next most frequent source of
interlingual errors (20%) were word choices influenced by the mother tongue, which
came in various guises, but it seems that a more thorough introduction to false
friend word pairings in Serbian and English could effect an improvement. The
remainder of the interlingual category consisted of dependent prepositions, the use
of the determiner some where the indefinite article would have been the preferred
choice, punctuation within quotations, and even some L1-influenced spelling errors,
along with other error types appearing too infrequently to be of importance.
A distinct lack of variety and range, both in syntax and lexis, was noted
throughout the research sample, which could mean that the students were focused on
accuracy rather than complexity. This is not necessarily detrimental early in their
studies, as complexity can be added after accuracy has been achieved. However, if
the tasks they are given contain varying complexity demands, accuracy will suffer as
a result. One of the ways of adding complexity without sacrificing accuracy could be
peer review, along with redrafting or rewriting their own work. Nunan (1991) states
258
that students are challenged to reassess what they are trying to achieve when they
are asked to rewrite or redraft their written productions. Having their first draft
judged by peers instead of teachers could allow them to test more freely their
hypotheses about the target language, leading to increased complexity. During the
rewriting phase, some of their hypotheses are rejected, while others are confirmed,
and this gradual process leads to a better approximation of the target language in the
learners interlanguage.
7. Conclusion
The results of this analysis offer an overview of the students L2 competence in
their third semester of studies, highlighting areas that need further attention. Thus,
the deficiencies in their L2 knowledge can be addressed by developing exercises and
tasks that target the weaknesses noted. The only appreciable difference between the
different generations of students was that younger generations seemingly place less
emphasis on orthography, a trend that should not be exceedingly challenging to
reverse. The rest of the results are comparable to their peers or seniors in another
study, although the frequency of interlingual errors could stand to be reduced.
The limitations of this study are in the types of errors covered. The inclusion of
supra-sentential and stylistic errors would have provided a more comprehensive
insight into learner competence levels. Another problem is the students focus on
accuracy, as their avoidance of complex language use prevents the true state of their
interlanguages from being ascertained. The peer review method proposed in this
article could alleviate this issue for a future study.
Post-task follow up activities coupled with clear feedback could make the
language acquisition process more efficient. Less insistence on grammatical rules,
with more attention paid to the communicative purposes of the various language
aspects, could also be helpful in achieving the goal of native-like competence.
References
Brown, H. D. (1994). Principles of Language Learning and Teaching. Englewood
Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall.
Corder, S. P. (1967). The Significance of Learners Errors. International Review
of Applied Linguistics 5: 161-170.
Corder, S. P. (1971). Idiosyncratic dialects and error analysis. International
Review of Applied Linguistics 9: 147-159.
Ehrensberger-Dow M. and Ricketts C. (2003). Whats wrong with our Swiss
students English? An analysis of advanced learnerswritten productions.
Bulletin VALS-ASLA (Vereinigung fr angewandte Linguistik in der
Schweiz) 77: 103-121.
259
Ellis, R. (1985). Understanding Second Language Acquisition. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Nemser, W. (1971). Approximative Systems of Foreign Language Learners.
International Review of Applied Linguistics 9: 115-123.
Nunan, D. (1991). Language Teaching Methodology: A Textbook for Teachers.
London: Prentice Hall International.
Selinker, L. (1972). Interlanguage. International Review of Applied Linguistics 10:
209-231.
260
Mira Mili
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
HINDSIGHT ANALYSIS OF A BILINGUAL DICTIONARY OF
STANDARDISED SPORTS TERMS
Abstract The fact that lexicographic work is a reflection of lexicological thought
and constantly changing requirements of the society imposes a need for repeated
evaluation of dictionaries and improving them accordingly. Given that this is an
open-ended issue, the aim of this paper is to do a hindsight analysis of an English-
Serbian dictionary of sports terms Englesko-srpski renik sportskih termina, 2006.
Upon a brief presentation of a terminographic model and goals governing its
implementation, this paper highlights qualities that have stood the test of time, as
well as potential upgrades complying with new technologies.
Key words: lexicology, lexicography, translation.
1. Introduction
The purpose of this analysis is to reevaluate the model of terminological
standardisation applied in the bilingual dictionary of sports terms Englesko-srpski
renik sportskih termina (Mili 2006), further referred to as ESRST. Aiming at
elegance of expression, lexicographic codification of terms will be further referred
to as terminography. In the light of the fact that ESRST includes only terms of five
ball games (basketball, football, handball, volleyball, and water polo), this analysis
will also show whether the proposed model is applicable to terminologies of other
sports events, as well as whether new technologies impose additional requirements
related to terminographic codification standard. Besides introductory section, the
remaining presentation includes four sections. Section 2 deals with terminographic
model of ESRST, including the principles of standardisation, all of which are both
defined and exemplified. Sections 3 and 4 present ESRSTs macrostructure and
microstructure respectively. Section 5 deals with advantages and disadvantages of
ESRST from the aspect of new technologies, and Section 6 summarises conclusions
in terms of the model sustainability and actions to be taken in near future.
2. Terminographic model of standardised terms in ESRST
The process of terminological standardisation involves two essential
requirements. These are matching various features of an entity (object, event, idea,
261
process, etc.) and normativeness of a set standard. The former implies creation of
terms referring to particular concepts, and the latter are linguistic, technical and
pragmatic characteristics of terms. Owing to the fact that the term is a linguistic sign
it must be in accordance with linguistic standard of a given language, whereas the
fact that it is a part of a particular thematic register sets a prerequisite of its
preciseness and transparency. Eventually, pragmatic aspect of the term calls for its
acceptability in terms of language economy and frequency of usage in written and
oral communication. The process of standardisation is not easily accomplished, as it
involves a number of interrelated stages to be implemented by linguistic and
technical specialists on one side and by the community on the other. The former are
expected to select a language variant, set a code, elaborate the code and compile a
prescriptive grammar or a dictionary. The latter are supposed to take care of
acceptance of the standard in public and its updating according to the new
requirements of a language, thematic register, and the society in general.
In the light of the above, a terminographic standard has been proposed for
sports terminology in Serbian, which includes a hierarchically ordered set of six
principles, all of which are dealt with below. They are preciseness (2.1),
transparency (2.2), systematicity (2. 3), productivity (2.4), concision (2.5) and
frequency (2.6). Due to the fact that sports terms in Serbian are created by the
process of borrowing and translation of English terms, application of the model
resulted in reordering or modification of the existing translation equivalents, in such
a manner that the standard term is always listed first with the designation (1) in
front.
2.1. Preciseness
Preciseness of a term sets the requirement that the term should represent only
one concept in a thematic register (Dubuc 1997: 156). This principle mostly applies
to two issues: terminological variants referring to the same concept and translation
equivalents of synonymous terms with minor differences in denotative meaning,
which refer to different concepts. According to this principle one of the
interchangeable terminological variants is marked as standard term with the
designation (1), e.g. (1) pivot-noga pivot foot (calque which involves literal
translation into L
2
of L
1
elements of complex, compound and phrasal words (Pri
2007: 418)) and (2) stajna noga pivot foot (direct translation which involves direct
translation of L
1
literal or transferred meaning into L
2
(Pri (2005: 179). Synonyms
which differ in denotative meaning are distinguished by expansion or modification
of the existing single translation equivalents, each of which is allocated a proper
gloss. For example, polaganje u ko layin and polaganje od table layup are
standard terms versus the existing one polaganje that used to be the same translation
equivalent for both English terms.
262
2.2. Transparency
This principle is defined as the requirement that the term should reflect
characteristics of a concept which it represents (ipka 1998: 129), which means that
it should be motivated etymologically, semantically or morphologically (Dubuc
1997: 156). Analysis of sports terminology proves that sports terms are satisfactorily
motivated at the level of etymology and morphology, but not at the level of
semantics. This is due to several reasons: (i) loss of a diagnostic feature, (ii) shift of
a functional or collocation feature, (iii) use of non-standard language variant or
archaic word and (iv) use of acronyms or initialisms. Application of this principle
resulted in the following changes: (i) extra or missing diagnostic features are omitted
or added respectively, (ii) shifted functional or collocation features are adapted to
the original term, (iii) archaic terms are replaced by non-archaic ones, and (iv)
acronyms are kept unchanged but initialisms and abbreviations are replaced by full
words. Accordingly, (i) povrina etverca (length-width) 4-meter area (length-
width) is standard term versus the existing translation equivalent (prostor etverca)
with extra diagnostic feature (length-width-height), (ii) bacanje za loptom diving is
standard term versus the former suvanje (archaic), (iii) srednji bek CB (central
backcourt player) is standard term versus the former abbreviation SB composed of
initial letters of words making up a translation equivalent in Serbian, and (iv)
golmanova zamena (modifier + noun) substitute goalkeeper (modifier + noun) is
standard term versus the existing one zamena golmana (noun
nominative
+ noun
accusative.
),
which is ambiguous.
2.3. Systematicity
The term is systematic if it is adapted to the linguistic system of Serbian, which
implies the levels of: (i) orthography, (ii) phonology, (iii) morpho-syntax, and (iv)
terminography (Mili 2004: 75). The existing terminology of ball games shows the
following deviations: (i) writing compounds, semi-compounds, anglicisms, numbers
and mathematical signs, (ii) phonological adaptation of anglicisms, which is based
on spelling or mixed spelling and pronunciation, (iii) hyphenated inflectional
endings of anglicisms, and (iv) non-unified codification of lexical entries in
dictionaries and glossaries. The following text deals with standardisation relative to
deviations (i), (ii) and (iii), whereas (iv) is dealt with in Section 4 of this paper.
Accordingly, compounds and semi-compounds are written either hyphenated or non-
hyphenated as per A Book of Orthographic Rules for Serbian, 1995, item 41, except
for anglicisms of this type which are in accordance with the standard of Vasi et al.
(2001:11), e.g. (i) aut-linija out line is standard term versus the former non-
hyphenated form aut linija and raspored igraa 5 prema 1 formation 5:1 is
standard term versus the fomer raspored 5 : 1. Phonological adaptation of
translation equivalents is applied to certain terms deviating from A Book of
263
Orthographic Rules for Serbian, 1995, item 76, e.g. (ii) tobdija goalcapable
player standard term versus the fomer topdija. Finally, morphosyntactic adaptation
is applied to terms consisting of noninflectional noun modifiers, such as (iii) pravila
vaterpola Fine (oblique case) FINA water polo rules as standard term versus the
former Fina vaterpolo pravila (noninflectional noun modifier).
2.4. Productivity
For the requirements of terminological standardisation, a modified Pris
(1997: 5) general definition of productivity is used. Accordingly, productivity is
defined as a characteristic of the language system which enables communicators
(especially if it is their mother tongue) to encode and decode maximum number of
higher-order terminological units, including those which they haven't come across
earlier. At the level of single-word entries, productivity is explained in terms of
derivation and composition, which is generally established in the ball game
terminology. At the level of multiple-worded entries, this principle may partially be
treated as derivation potential of the headword, but more likely in terms of a number
of words of a phrase or collocation. Generally, phrases are productive if they contain
fewer words in a collocational/phrasal lexeme. As per the term used by Lipka (1992:
74) and Lyons (1977: 23), phrasal lexeme implies hybrid lexical units which are
syntagms according to their form, but according to their function, meaning and
usage they are undoubtedly words (Pri 1999: 16). Application of this principle
resulted in the following changes: omission of extra words (e.g. iskljuenje s pravom
zamene exclusion of a player with substitution standard term versus the former
iskljuenje igraa s pravom zamene), direct translation instead of a functional
approximation, which according to Pri (2007: 418), involves expression of L
1
content with L
2
lexical resources, so as to reflect as closely as possible the function
of the referent, either by keeping or by changing the original conceptualisation. For
example, noena lopta held ball is standard term versus the former drugi kontakt s
loptom and izvoa auta thrower is standard single-word term versus the former
igra koji ubacuje loptu u igru, which is a relative clause.
2.5. Concision
Concision of the term implies that it should not be too long, that it is preferably
single-worded or with a fewer number of words (ipka 1998: 129). Multi-
wordedness is often the result of adding extra words in translation equivalents due to
a lexical gap, insufficient understanding of the lexical meaning of a term, or the need
to avoid associating the term with another thematic register. If resulting from a
lexical gap, it is advisable to use another lexical resources based on analysis of the
meaning of the term (e.g. cikcak raspored w-formation standard term versus the
fomer igra u cikcak formaciji), apply derivation potential of the head word (e.g.
264
prekrilac guilty player standard term versus the fomer igra koji je uinio
prekraj) or, lastly, borrow the term (e.g. dabl-futer double-footed player adapted
borrowed term versus the former translation equivalent igra koji dobro igra obema
nogama).
2.6. Frequency
Frequency implies how often a particular term is used in the relevant
documents and oral communication of professionals in a thematic register (Mili
2004: 85). This principle is applied to terminological doublets i.e. two
terminologically marked lexemes sharing the same meaning and parallel usage
(Gortan-Premk (2004: 122), created by direct translation of terminological doublets
from English (i) or by double-adaptation of English terms, usually borrowing plus
direct translation or calque plus direct translation (ii). This principle is also applied
to synonymous terms for which there is only one translation equivalent (iii). As
translation equivalents of terminological doublets have parallel usage, they can only
be treated as double standard terms for a single concept. If resulting from translation
of terminological doublets from English (i), standard term is the one whose
translation equivalent matches the terminological entry and the gloss is given only
for the term which comes first in alphabetical sequence (e.g. (1) linija napada
attack line (+ gloss) and (2) linija smeiranja spike line ( gloss)). If resulting
from double adaptation of an English term (ii), it is proposed to rearrange such units
in the order of frequency, provided the most frequent and most adapted one is at the
first place as the standard term with the designation (1), e.g. (1) kapiten tima team
captain, (2) kapiten ekipe team captain. English terms with a minor difference in
denotative meaning, both of which are originally matched by the same translation
equivalent in Serbian (iii), are distinguished at lexical and gloss levels alike, which
means that there are two translation equivalents and two glosses, e.g. polaganje u
ko layin versus polaganje od table layup are standard terms for the former
polaganje that used to be the same translation equivalent for both English terms.
Due to the fact that electronic corpus does not exist in Serbian this principle is based
on the personal judgement of the author of the dictionary.
3. Macrostructure of ESRST
ESRST includes terms of a limited number of sports events, i.e. five ball games
being constituent parts of curricula of faculties of sport and physical education in
Serbia. They are: basketball, football, handball, volleyball, and water polo. Limited
number of sports events is justified by the fact that the goal of the initial research in
the field of terminological standardisation was to set up a model to be applicable not
only to the sports register but to non-sports registers too. Judging from its
recognition by the research team of the project Fizika aktivnost devojica i deaka
265
predkolskog uzrasta Physical activity of girls and boys of preschool age (Bala et
al. 2006), the model has proved good enough for sports terminology in general.
However, further standardisation work in sport is still due.
Even though entries of a terminological dictionary are best organised according
to thematic fields, being the usual practice in thesaurus-like approach, ESRST
entries are ordered alphabetically. However, conceptual aspect is preserved by
introducing thematising signposts (symbols of specific thematic fields (as per Pri
2005: 254), which stand for specific sports events. These labels have been applied
consistently to headword English terms, translation equivalents and glosses
throughout the dictionary. In addition, the conceptual level is also preserved at the
level of definitions of meaning, the key words of which are hyperonyms referring to
particular subconcepts of ball games, such as: field, officials, officials signals,
penalty, and play.
In order to enhance ESRSTs user-friendliness, the dictionary also includes
standard descriptions of each ball game followed by field/court illustrations, given in
Dodatak Apendix at the end. Sequence of description details is kept the same for
all ball games: history, field/court of play, goals of play, rules of play, scoring,
penalties, and officials.
4. Microstructure of the ESRST
As shown in the Figure 1 below, typical lexical entry (Mili 2006: 115)
consists of the following elements: English term (1), thematising signpost (2),
grammatical word class (3), cross references for synonyms, antonyms and variants
(4), translation equivalent/s (5) and gloss (6).
Figure 1: Terminographic entry in ESRST
English term (1) being the headword is clearly marked using a different
typographic convention from the remaining part of a lexical entry. If a term is
polysemous, it is reentered and given additional subscripts in front of an entry, e.g.
left wing
R
(im), sin. LW, ant. right wing
(1) levo krilo, (2) LK
Igra u napadu, koji igra izmeu linije slobodnog bacanja na
9 m i linije golmanovog prostora, sa leve strane.
Figure 1
Terminographic entry in ESRST
1
2
3
5
6 4
266
A
post
F,R,V
(stativa),
B
post
K
(centar), and
C
post
O
(stub), (Mili 2006: 146). The
same code applies to terminological entries with multiple grammatical functions.
Thematising signpost (2), which is a symbol of a specific sports event, is
introduced due to the complexity of a thematic register. This information is codified
in ESRST in the form of subscripted initial letters of translation equivalents of five
ball games (F football, Kbasketball, R handball, O volleyball and V water
polo).
Grammatical information (3) in this dictionary is abbreviation of a grammatical
word class: gl verb, im noun, prid adjective) and pril adverb. Even though
easily accomplished with single-worded terms, it required a pragmatic approach
when dealing with phrasal terms. Assuming an author wishes to fulfil the criterion of
user-friendliness, abbreviations such as fr. im phrasal noun or fr.gl phrasal verb
might be unwelcome in the technical language. For this reason, it is recommended to
disregard the phrasal character of multi-worded terms and use the same codes of
grammatical word classes as those of single-worded terminographic entries. In case
when the same entry performs double grammatical function, i.e. when it is both a
noun and a verb, terminological entry is entered twice with subscripted codes
A
and
B
in front, e.g.
A
play and
B
play (ESRST: 141), the first of which is a verb and
the second is a noun. The same code applies when an entry is a polysemous term, as
illustrated in paragraph (1) dealing with codification of English terms.
Cross-references (4) for synonyms, antonyms and language variants are
included in order to comply with the terminographic requirement of user-
friendliness. Synonyms in ESRST are lexical units usually referred to in semantic
theories as propositional synonyms (Cruse 1986: 267), which share the same central
semantic traits but not necessarily the same peripheral ones. Synonymous
terminological entries in this dictionary are mostly mutually interchangeable
translation equivalents functioning as terminiological doublets (kapiten tima captain
team versus kapiten ekipe captain team), stylistically marked terms (kuvanje
dink (informal) versus lopta gurnuta preko bloka dink (neutral)), and temporally
marked terms (suvanje diving (archaic) versus bacanje za loptom diving (neutral).
However, Serbian terms are not labelled accordingly due to the fact that standardised
terminology according to this model implies ordered set of translation equivalents
starting with the standard term which is followed by terms progressively deviating
from the specified linguistic, technical, and pragmatic requirements. With regard to
a high potential of terms for developing antonymous relations, ESRST includes
antonyms too, which imply lexical units functioning as opposites par excellence
(Lyons 1968: 463), such as mrtva lopta dead ball versus iva lopta live ball.
Language variants are codified for British and American English, using the symbols
and $ respectively.
Translation equivalents (5) are either single or multiple units. The former are
entered without a designation (1), whereas the latter are coded using bracketed
numbers (1), (2) etc., provided the standard term is always designated as (1).
Sequence of translation equivalents designated with numbers other than (1) depends
on the extent of compliance with the proposed standard.
267
Gloss (6) includes a concise definition of meaning which explains the main
characteristics of a concept. The usual type of the definition applied in Serbian
dictionaries fits the model which Atkins and Rundell (2008: 436) refer to as genus-
and-differentia defining model, according to which a word is described in terms of
its superordinate or genus expression and its additional features or differentiae,
which distinguish the particular meaning from other category members.
Accordingly, the definition of meaning in ESRST is based on previously analysed
hyponymic relations within a given thematic register. This means that each thematic
register is divided into a number of hyperoyms according to which the remaining
terminographic entries i.e. hyponyms are arranged. Thus the wording of a definition
consists of a hyperonym followed by additional features which distinguish a
particular meaning from other category members. As an example, an individual ball
game register consists of the following hyperonyms: field/court, equipment, play,
players, scoring, penalty, officials, official's signals, violations etc. Accordingly, the
terminographic entry live-time foul (hyponym) in water polo has the following
definition: Prekraj koji se napravi dok je lopta u igri A violation made while the
ball is in play.
(Mili 2006: 117
)
. Examples of usage are not given as
complementary parts of the gloss even though lexicographers (cf. Atkins and
Rundell 2008: 453) claim that they have important functions: to prove the existence
of words, to serve as complements to definitions, as well as to illustrate contextual
features such as syntax, collocation, and register. Their exclusion is justified by the
fact that the ESRST is based on official rules of ball games in English and Serbian
as the only reference source of terms.
5. Advantages and disadvantages of ESRST terminographic model
According to Radovanovi (1979: 86), standard language is the result of ten
operations. They are: (1) selection, (2) description, (3) codification, (4) elaboration,
(5) acceptance, (6) implementation, (7) expansion, (8) cultivation, (9) evaluation and
(10) recapitulation. The first four operations are performed by linguists and technical
specialists, operations (5), (6), (7), and (8) require efforts of a wider social
community, whereas the last two operations can be viewed as new requirements
feedback for linguists and technical specialists. Using these operations as a checklist,
ESRST has passed operations (1) through (8). This paper proves that terminological
standardisation has reached the final stages of evaluation and improvement of the set
standard according to the current requirements of the society. Recognition of the
standard in sports world and its encouragement by linguists prove its sustainability
after five years. However, new technologies put certain requirements to be dealt
with in future terminographic work.
Easy access to online English-Serbian and Serbian-English dictionaries turns
hard-copy dictionaries to second-hand reference sources. With this being the case,
the final stage of standardisation is unfulfilled, as the standard fails to be
disseminated and accepted by a wider language community. Given that the proposed
268
model of standardisation includes contact and contrastive aspects of English and
Serbian, its wider acceptance is highly desired due to repeated warnings by language
specialists (Pri 2007: 66) about the phenomenon of superficialism in English-
Serbian translation, which results in mechanical transference into Serbian of forms
from English in their basic literal sense. This is also pointed out by Rianovi (2006:
1) who says that most English-Serbian translation failures are due to unconscious
word-for-word translations. Certain level of overcoming these problems can
smoothly be realised by means of a computer accessible standardised dictionary,
which allows an instant retrieval of the required information.
In the light of the conclusion reached by DiMarco and Hirst (1995: 1), that the
construction f a set of computational usage notes adequate for text generation is a
major task of future lexicographic work, a terminological dictionary is bound to be a
computer-readable one. As a denotational differentiation in terminology is at the
language-independent conceptual level, electronic data base would enable an easy
retrieval of lexicographic information in the target language. According to these
authors, this can be achieved by codification of existing lexicographic information in
the form of computational usage notes. Due to the fact that machine-readable
dictionaries are based on electronic corpora, they offer an extra advantage of
allowing an exact judgement of frequency of usage, which happens to be impossible
in the classical procedure relaying on a personal judgement of an author.
In the light of the aforementioned, the proposed terminological standard might
be further coded in the form of a machine-readable database, while future
terminographic codification should be based on electronic corpora or largely
machine-readable ones.
6. Conclusions
Terminographic model of ESRST has reached the desired goals of
terminological standardisation in the field of sport, owing to the fact that linguistic
and technical standards have not changed substantially so far. However, new
technologies have put additional requirements implying electronic codification of
the set standard, which essentially means that this is an issue of form of the proposed
standard rather than its content. New form of the proposed standard will result not
only in time saving but also in more precise application of proposed principles of
terminological standardisation and more effective dissemination of the implemented
standard.
References
Atkins, B.T. S. and Rundell, M. (2008). The Oxford Guide to Practical
Lexicography. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Bala, G. (2006). Fizika aktivnost devojica i deaka predkolskog uzrasta [Physical
activity of girls and boys of preschool age]. Novi Sad: Fakultet sporta i fizikog
vaspitanja.
269
Cruse, D. A. (1986). Lexical semantics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
DiMarco, C. and Hirst, G. (1995). Usage notes as the basis for representation of
near-synonymy for lexical choice. Available at http://ftp.cs.toronto.edu/
pub/gh/DiMarco+Hirst-LexChoice-93.pdf. Retrieved on 6 May 2009.
Dubuc, R. (1997). Terminology: A Practical Approach. Place Portobello. Brossard.
Quebec: Linguatech Editeur Inc.
Gortan-Premk, D. (2004). Polisemija i organizacija leksikog sistema u srpskome
jeziku [Polysemy and organisation of lexical system in Serbian]. Beograd:
Zavod za udbenike i nastavna sredstva.
Lipka, L. (1992). An outline of English lexicology (2
nd
ed.). Tbingen: Max
Niemeyer Verlag.
Lyons, J. (1968). Introduction to theoretical linguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Lyons, J. (1977). Semantics (Vols. 12). Cambridge: University Press.
Mili, M. (2004). Termini igara loptom u engleskom jeziku i njihovi prevodni
ekvivalenti u srpskom [Ball Game Terms in English and Their Translation
Equivalents in Serbian]. Master's thesis, unpublished. Novi Sad: Faculty of
Philosophy.
Mili, M. (2006). Englesko-srpski renik sportskih termina [English-Serbian
Dictionary of Sports Terms]. Novi Sad: Zmaj.
Peikan, M., et al. (1995). Pravopis srpskoga jezika [A Book of Orthographic Rules
for Serbian]. Novi Sad: Matica srpska, Beograd: Zavod za udbenike i nastavna
sredstva.
Pri, T. (1997). Produktivnost u tvorbi rei [Productivity in Word Formation].
Manuscript. Novi Sad: Faculty of Philosophy.
Pri, T. (1999).Sinonimi u teoriji i praksi: isto ali ipak razliito [Synonyms in
theory and practice: the same but still different]. Jezik danas, 3(9), 1420.
Pri, T. (2005). Engleski u srpskom [English within Serbian]. Novi Sad: Zmaj.
Pri, T. (2007). The Whats and Hows in Teaching Translation to ENFL University
Students. In: K. Rauli and I. Trbojevi, (eds). Proceedings of the
International Conference to Mark 75
th
Anniversary of the English Department,
English Language and Literature Studies: Interfaces and integrations.
Belgrade: Faculty of Philology, Vol. 2, 65-73.
Radovanovi, M. (1979). Sociolingvistika [Sociolinguistics] Beograd: Beogradski
izdavaki zavod.
Rianovi, M. (2006). Praktina engleska gramatika uz poreenje sa naim jezikom
[Practical English Grammar with Comparison with our Language]. Sarajevo:
"ahinpai".
ipka, D. (1998). Osnovi leksikologije i srodnih disciplina [Fundamentals of
Lexicology and Related Disciplines]. Novi Sad: Matica srpska.
Vasi, V. et al. (2001). Du yu speak anglosrpski? Renik novijih anglicizama [Do
You Speak Angloserbian? A Dictionary of Recent Anglicisms]. Novi Sad:
Zmaj.
270
Predrag Novakov
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
LINGUISTIC AND EXTRALINGUISTIC COMPONENT IN
TRANSLATION: ENGLISHSERBIAN EXAMPLES
1
Abstract As a complex multi-layered process, translation includes both linguistic
and extralinguistic knowledge and skills. Namely, a successful translation should
reflect both translators linguistic competence (in at least two languages) and
familiarity with the broadly understood cultural component of the text translated.
The latter component could be also further subdivided into general knowledge
acquired during regular education and insights into one or more specific
professional fields (like history, biology etc). Neglect of this component, necessary
for a successful translation, almost always leads to mistranslations or inadequate
translations; having that in mind, the paper discusses extralinguistic and linguistic
components when the language of the original text is English and the language into
which this text is translated is Serbian and vice versa.
Key words: English, extralinguistic component, Serbian, translation.
1. Introduction
As a complex multi-layered process, translation requires both talent and learnt
skills, both linguistic and extralinguistic components. Namely, a successful
translation should reflect both translators linguistic competence (in at least two
languages) and familiarity with the broadly understood cultural component of the
text translated. The latter component could be also further subdivided into general
knowledge acquired during regular education and insights into one or more specific
professional fields (like history, biology etc). Neglect of this component, necessary
for a successful translation, almost always leads to mistranslations or inadequate
translations; having that in mind, the paper discusses extralinguistic and linguistic
components when the language of the original text is English and the language into
which this text is translated is Serbian and vice versa.
As far as the compositionality of the translators competence is concerned, this
paper would concentrate on the two basic components the linguistic and
1
Rad je napisan u okviru naunog projekta Jezici i kulture u vremenu i prostoru koji finansira
Ministarstvo za nauku i tehnoloki razvoj Republike Srbije (broj projekta 178002, period 2011-2014.
godine), a zasniva se na neobjavljenom saoptenju sa meunarodne konferencije English Language and
Anglophone Literatures Today odrane u Novom Sadu 19. marta 2011. godine.
271
extralinguistic one (leaving aside, for example, the psychological features included
in the translators psychological competence). These two basic components are
themselves complex and imply sub-components, that is subcompetences. Moreover,
they can be also studied at the level of general, theoretical competence and actual
performance (Pym 2003: 484). As far the linguistic competence is concerned, it is
sometimes viewed as a specific kind of bilingualism (Pym 2003: 481), that is the
knowledge and skill to use two language codes more or less with the same
familiarity; this competence thus includes grammatical morpho-syntactic
knowledge, lexical sets and structural features related to lexemes (for example,
valency, irregularities) and semantic distinctive features of lexemes, as well as a
sub-component related to the contextual use of linguistic units (pragmatics). Another
significant sub-component is the textual component (Hlebec 2009: 19) the
translators competence to carry out a comprehensive analysis of the text to be
translated before fully understanding the text and starting actual translation.
Extralinguistic or broadly understood cultural component, generally speaking,
is also complex and has sub-components. For example, such components include
general extralinguistic or encyclopedic knowledge, particular professional
knowledge (for a given field), literature-genre competence, that is competence to
interpret the works of art when translating novels, poetry etc. (Hlebec 2009: 19),
familiarity with the extralinguistic context significant for the translation and other
components.
Both of these components are relevant if one wants to avoid over-translation,
under-translation or simplification. However, on the one hand a certain level of
subjectivity in translators decisions is always present, and on the other the linguistic
and extralinguistic components are often mixed and are difficult to separate. The
examples in this paper would point to some of these cases, starting from the
assumption in the relevant literature (cf. Hlebec 2009) that the translating process is
a multicomponent process consisting of several stages in which specific skills and
knowledge are required and implemented. Thus, for example, these stages include
interpretation of the text in the source language by the translator, translators
precoding of the source text (creating the first versions of translation, coding of the
translators intentions during translation, cf. Hlebec 2009: 25), contrasting the
source text with the precoded target text, final recoding of the source text.
2. Examples and comments
To illustrate at the very beginning numerous layers and traps related to
translation, one can, among other things, refer to the novel which won the prize for
the best novel in 2010 in Serbia - Ono to oduvek eli (2010) by Gordana irjani.
irjani, herself an accomplished translator from Spanish and English, included in
the novel a brilliant brief section about translation: hearing a short sentence in
Spanish, the main character in the novel thinks about its possible translation into
Serbian (pages 215-216); he first translates it literally, but he is not satisfied with
272
this translation, saying that it is not colloquial enough; then he analyzes Spanish
words and phrases, finding their idiomatic meanings, takes into account the
pragmatic value of the sentence and translates it again correctly. He was so absorbed
in trying to find the best solution that he forgot to have lunch at his usual time. This
is a great summary of a translating process, revealing both the effort and satisfaction
with the right solution. However, only about 10 pages after these passages one of the
characters says the following sentence in English, which is followed by the main
characters comment:
(1) Wow!!! rekao je saznavi da je dola. Tell her I am her fun. .... Prvo
je morao da mi objasni ta znai fun, pa tako saznah da je Rouz idol
klincima... (irjani 2010: 224)
(Translation in the footnote: Kai joj da sam njen oboavalac. (engl.))
The novel which itself in some sections illustrates certain aspects of translation
provides an example of a rather significant mistake: fun instead of fan; fan, as
pronounced in contemporary informal Serbian, sounds like the English word fun,
making them almost a false pair that could be the reason for this mistake.
However, generally speaking, it seems that the awareness about different
components necessary for successful translation is much higher in our environment,
at least in the media with the highest number of readers/viewers/listeners. About 15
to 20 years ago (Novakov 2008), it was possible to find examples like:
(2) a) ...jednu godinu na nekom crvenocigljarskom univerzitetu. (Fauls 1988:
166)
b) ...od tada je ona bila moja srena magija. (Kazan 1998: 9)
c) ...neki doktori ...prepisali mu silne droge... (Kazan 1998: 314)
These mistakes are so rudely obvious that they do not require a specific
comment; let us just add that in (2a) the English phrase is a red-brick university,
which is only metaphorically related to red bricks and this should be taken into
account in the translation. In (2b) lucky charm was translated literally, even though it
does not make much sense in this context. Finally, in (2c) drugs actually means
medicine, because the context implies a hospitalized patient and doctors.
That the awareness has at least slightly improved could be seen from the fact
that some journalists (at least in the major Serbian newspapers) are more sensitive to
the use of Anglicisms, for example:
(3) ...a iji autori ve godinama od sebe prave takozvani ,,brend, koliko god
se taj izraz ve
raspada od preterane upotrebe. (Politika, March 4, 2011, TV revija,
page 6)
The author of this text used quotation marks for a relatively recent Anglicism
and added a comment about its very frequent use.
However, some mistranslations still occur in the journalist register; for
example:
(4) Poar u postrojenju za preradu ulja. (TV station B92, March 10, 2011,
about 11 p.m.)
273
This TV comment related to recent news from Libya was certainly not meant to
refer to cooking oil, but to petrol.
Extralinguistic component is particularly pronounced in professional texts
requiring specific terminology, which again forces the translator to make decisions
about equivalents, particularly when one bears in mind internationalisms, for
example borrowing Anglicisms, or trying to find the domestic equivalent. The
following examples from a business journal would illustrate some of these issues:
(5) a) ...transformiui ih u vrlo propulzivnu naunu disciplinu... (IS 69)
b) ...science of production systems made very propulsive...
(6) a) ...uslovi za implementaciju koncepata... (IS 69)
b) ...conditions for implementation of production systems...
(7) a) ...organizovanja fraktalnih kompanija ... ((IS 71)
b) ...approach of fractal companies...
The above examples are taken from the journal Industrijski sistemi vol 1, No 3,
December 1999, published in Novi Sad (abbreviated here as IS); articles in this
journal are published both in English and in Serbian, so they offer a possibility to
compare these two languages. If we start from the five-point scale based on the
degree of justification proposed by Pri (2005: 130-133) which includes completely
unjustified, unjustified, conditionally justified, justified and completely justified
Anglicisms, we may state that propulzivan in (5a) is a completely unjustified
Anglicism, even though it cannot be translated literally into Serbian as pogonski,
pokretan and requires a creative approach in translating. The Anglicism in (6a) is
also completely unjustified, because there is a domestic word with the same general
meaning (primena); however, if one bears in mind an extralinguistic level, one may
add that this Anglicism has been used so often that it almost acquired the status of a
professional business term, which would make its use in this register justified.
Finally, the example in (7a) presents a recent Anglicism, denoting a decentralized
organization of business (central service and decentralized production units); it may
be justified as a specific, new term in the business register or a posssible Serbian
translation should be sought (for example, fragmentirana kompanija).
The following examples are excerpted from the same journal:
(8) a) pouzdane klijent/server usluge (IS 83)
b) reliable client/server services
(9) a) kontinualno uenje (IS 93)
b) continuous education
(10) a) ...moderni raunarski-zasnovani sistemi su ...(IS 113)
b) ...advanced computer-based systems are...
The quoted examples also indicate some of the problems in professional texts.
In (8a) the nouns in premodification should follow the head noun (usluge
klijent/server) and the noun server is difficult to translate except descriptively (with
a rather long structure meaning those who offer services); still, the noun server is
unjustified in this context even though it may fill a lexical gap and be accepted in
frequent use. The adjective in (9a) illustrates another problem: an incorrect
274
morphological adaptation of an English adjective, because there is an adjective
kontinuiran. Finally, (10a) contains a literally translated English phrase computer-
based, which should have been translated with a relative clause sistemi zasnovani na
kompjuterima/raunarima.
The last group of examples relevant for the discussion about linguistic and
extralinguistic components in translation is the one related to religion and religious
art. When it comes to the Serbian and English tradition, this field represents a
particular challenge for the translator, who has to make difficult decisions and often
try to offer best solutions. The following examples are taken from the book Srpsko
zidno slikarstvo (abbreviated as SZS) by Leposava elmi which was published in
Serbian and English. This Serbian text was translated into English by the author of
this paper, so the following examples would point to personal translation experience
and dilemmas:
(11) a) ...delatnosti istaknutog vizantijskog umetnika Manojla Panselina ...
(SZS 53)
b) ...outstanding Byzantine artist Manuel Panselinos...
(12) a) ... Bogorodice Kukuzelise u manastiru Lavri... (SZS 53)
b) ...the Virgin Koukouzeles ...in the Lavra Monastery...
(13) a) ...slovenskh svetitelja tzv. Sedmoislenika ... (SZS 61)
b) ...Slavic saints, the so-called Seven...
These examples illustrate several problems. Thus a small research on the
Internet was necessary to find the English equivalent and spelling for the name of
the artist in (11a); in (12a) the translator should familiarize with the story to be able
to translate the attribute Kukuzelisa namely, that the Byzantine chanter Ioannis
(John) Koukouzeles once fell asleep in front of the icon of the Virgin and had a
vision of the Virgin in his sleep; upon waking up, he found a golden coin in his
hand, so this miraculous icon is called the Virgin Koukouzeles (Sveta Gora
udotvorne ikone, www.atlantserbs.com/earnmore/library/cudotvorne-ikone.html).
Finally, the name Sedmoislenici refers to Slavic saints Cyril, Methodius and their
five disciples, which one should know before translating the term (Enciklopedija
pravoslavlja 2002: 1725).
The following examples are also excerpted from elmi 2004 (abbreviated as
SZS):
(14) a) ...monumentalno slikanim Priugotovljenim prestolom ... (SZS 039)
b) ...with the monumentally painted Prepared Empty Throne
(Hetoimasia)... (SZS 038)
(15) a) ...u Srpskom Kovinu i Stonom Beogradu... (SZS 063)
b) ...in Srpski Kovin and Stoni Beograd... (SZS 062)
(16) a) ...kao poreznik u Jegri. (SZS 065)
b) ...as a tax-collector in Eger (Jergra). (SZS 064)
(17)a) ...Biblija Ektipa Kristofa Vajgla ... (SZS 081)
b) ...Christoph Weigels Biblia Ectypa... (SZS 080)
(18) a) Nedremano oko (SZS 170)
b) The Unsleeping Eye (SZS 170)
275
These examples point to the need to search for extralinguistic data, first in
order to clarify the expression in the source language to be translated into English,
and then to find the correct translation. The name of one part of the fresco painting
mentioned in (14a), priugotovljeni presto, indicates a notion from eastern, Orthodox
Christianity: actually, the reference book Enciklopedija pravoslavlja (2002: 2010)
has the entry hetimasija (Greek: hetoimasia) which indicates ugotovljeni presto, the
empty throne on which the signs of Christs passion are placed. Thus the English
translation in (14b) includes a description which should help the readers from the
English-speaking world to grasp it, and then adds the original Greek term (Novakov
2008:123). Translational problem or dilemma in (15a) and (16a) relates to the names
of geographical places in Hungary. In (15a), these are the names of two places in
which the Serbs were settled: Srpski Kovin and Stoni Beograd. The names could be
left as they stand in the translation (15b), but it could be also useful to add the
Hungarian names in brackets Rckeve for the first, and Szkesfehrvr for the
second name (Wikipedia, Novakov 2008:125, Enciklopedija pravoslavlja 2002).
Jegra in (16a) refers to the town of Eger; in this case, it is not necessary to mention
both the Serbian and the Hungarian name in the translation, because the Serbian
name is just a morpho-phonological adaptation of the original Hungarian name, but
the Serbian name can be optionally mentioned in brackets. The example (17a)
contains a personal name and the name of a particular edition of the Bible; the
translator has to find the original spelling of the personal name and the original title
of the edition, which requires a search for extralinguistic information; so it is Biblia
Ectypa designed by Christoph Weigel, the Bible with engravings as illustrations
(Novakov 2008: 125). Finally, in (18a) the phrase nedremano oko was to be
translated into English; clarification of the phrase can be found in Enciklopedija
pravoslavlja (2002: 1295) it indicates protective vigilance of Christ and its
translation is the unsleeping eye (18b), not the all-seeing eye (svevidee oko) which
is a similar, but not equal concept (eye of god watching over humankind, cf.
Wikipedia).
Finally, one of the translational challenges to be mentioned in this paper is the
attribute of the saints in the Serbian Orthodox tradition, which is particularly
pronounced when translating the names of icons and saints depicted in these icons.
The following examples and their translations are taken from Renik pravoslavlja
(Vukievi 2004, abbreviated as RP):
(19) a) Jovan Moalnik/Jovan utljivi
b) John the Silent (RP)
(20) a) Jovan Lestvinik
b) John Climacus (RP)
(21) a) Teodor Lektor
b) Theodore the Reader (RP)
(22) a) Ilija Gromovnik
b) Elijah the Thunderer (RP)
(23) a) Teodor Osveeni
b) Theodore the Sanctified (RP)
276
The translation problems with these attributes may stem from the archaic
expressions not transparent to the contemporary reader or from the necessity to find
the English word typically used in this register. For example, utljivi in (19a) is
transparent, but its older version Moalnik is not; one should know some Russian to
be able to understand it. The attribute in (20a) is a real translation problem, because
one should know the story about Jovan Lestvinik, which belongs to the common
Christian tradition (for example, it can be found in Enciklopedija pravoslavlja
2002), to be able to understand the meaning of the attribute; moreover, the translator
has to find the term used in the English tradition. So the Internet search (for
example, Wikipedia) shows that this saint is also known as John of the Ladder
because of his work Ladder of Divine Ascent (Wikipedia); however, his attribute is
typically not translated with this English word, but with a Latinized original Greek
attribute (Vukievi 2004, Wikipedia). The examples in (21a), (22a) and (23a) are
easier to grasp and translate, but one still has to choose the attribute actually used by
the Church, not just invent the possible translation equivalent (even though it may be
correct).
3. Conclusion
Starting from the assumption that translation is a multicomponent process, this
paper tried to underline the role of extralinguistic component for a successful
translation (EnglishSerbian and vice versa). To that end, the paper presented groups
of examples which illustrated several typical contexts with the interaction of
linguistic and extralinguistic insights. Thus the paper pointed to literal translations
related to the lack of extralinguistic knowledge (example 2a) and possibly
insufficient linguistic knowledge (examples 2b, 2c and 4). The second group of
examples discussed some relatively recent Anglicisms in the business register,
stating that some of them are unjustified and some could develop into fully accepted
professional terms which cover a lexical gap or offer a shorter expression for a given
concept. The third group of examples was related to the terms and names belonging
to religious art (wall painting and icons); to find the best translation equivalents in
these cases it was often necessary to conduct a small research and find out the story
behind a name or a phrase.
Therefore, this discussion underlined the complexity of translation and the
usual phases and procedures the translator goes through in order to find the best
solutions, as well as the decisions he or she has to make while evaluating pragmatic
and stylistic components in the original text. Among other difficult choices, it seems
that the decisions related to using Anglicisms (internationally recognized, but still
not completely adopted in the Serbian language) or to trying to find the best
domestic equivalent cause some of the most difficult choices: the translators have to
weigh nuances applying sometimes subjective assessments according to their
linguistic and extralinguistic knowledge.
277
References
irjani, G. (2010). Ono to oduvek eli. Beograd: Narodna knjiga.
Enciklopedija pravoslavlja (2002). Beograd: Savremena administracija.
Fauls, D. (1988). Kula od slonovae. Novi Sad: Knjievna zajednica Novog Sada.
Hlebec, B. (2009). Opta naela prevoenja. Beograd: Beogradska knjiga.
Industrijski sistemi (1999). vol. 1. No. 3, Novi Sad.
Kazan, E. (1998), Aranman. Novi Sad: Matica srpska.
Novakov, P. (2008). Anglistike teme. Novi Sad: Futura publikacije.
Pri, T. (2005). Engleski u srpskom. Novi Sad: Zmaj.
Pym, A. (2003). Redefining Translation Competence in an Electronic Age. In
Defence of a Minimalist Approach. Meta XLVIII, 4: 481-497.
Sveta Gora udotvorne ikone. Available at: http://www.atlantserbs.com/earnmore/
library/cudotvorne-ikone.html. Retrieved on: 25 July 2011.
elmi, L. (2004). Srpsko zidno slikarstvo XVIII veka. Novi Sad: Galerija Matice
srpske.
Vukievi, B. (2004). Renik pravoslavlja (englesko-srpski, srpsko-engleski).
Beograd: Jezikoslovac.
Wikipedia. Available at: http://en.wikipedia.org. Retrieved on: 25 July 2011.
278
Melisa Okii
Sarajevo, Bosnia
[email protected]
FUNCTION OF NON-HEADS IN ENGLISH ADJECTIVAL
COMPOUNDS WITH DEVERBATIVE HEAD WORDS
Abstract Adjectival synthetic compounds consist of a deverbative head word (HW)
and the non-head which is linked to the verb argument structure, as the non-head
functions as the internal argument of the verb (complement): time-consuming (job)
> consuming > to consume > to consume time > time-consuming. However, the
presence of a deverbative HW is not necessarily an indicator of a synthetic
compound, as the non-head may also be a projection of an adjunct, cf. winter-
flowering (plant) > *to flower winter > to flower in the winter (in the winter >
adjunct). Therefore, the main goal of this paper is to provide a new classification of
adjectival compounds in light of synthetic-deverbative distinction. The primary
source of data is the British National Corpus (BNC), from which 200 endocentric
adjectival compounds with deverbative HWs were collected and analysed.
Key words: synthetic compound, complement, adjunct, function, head, non-head.
1. Introduction
Compounding is acknowledged to be a very productive word-formation
process in English. In addition, compounds are words with a precisely-defined
internal structure, based on the relationship between the head word (HW) and the
dependent (the non-head). Based on the morphological profile of the HW,
compounds can be divided into root (or primary) and synthetic compounds. Root
compounds have non-deverbative HWs, e.g. house in doghouse, or yellow in lemon-
yellow (coat), while the HWs of synthetic compounds are deverbative words, such
as maker in money-maker and consuming in time-consuming (job) etc. In the
linguistic literature, the term synthetic is usually linked to the verb argument
structure (Roeper and Siegel 1978, Selkirk 1982, Di Sciullo and Williams 1987), as
the non-head is the internal argument of the verb, i.e. it fulfils the function of the
complement of the verb, cf. truck driver > to drive a truck. Bearing in mind the high
level of productivity of nominal compounds, it is not surprising at all that synthetic
compounds of this type are frequently the focus of various linguistic studies (Selkirk
1982, Lieber 2004, Plag 2003, Radford 1997, Haspelmath 2002, Katamba 1993,
Spencer 1991). On the other hand, it is quite surprising that the linguistic literature
often neglects other types of synthetic compound, and does not say much about the
distinction between synthetic vs. deverbative compounds. This may be misleading,
279
as the term synthetic might be understood as a synonym for a deverbative
compound, which is certainly not the case. In other words, the presence of a
deverbative HW in either nominal or adjectival synthetic compounds is not
necessarily a guarantee that the non-head is a projection of the complement, cf.
hand-writing > to write by hand, cf. * to write hand or winter-flowering > to flower
in the winter, cf. * to flower winter.
2. Corpus, goal and criteria
In this paper, we analyse the group of adjectival compounds with deverbative
HWs. The primary source of data is the British National Corpus (hereinafter BNC),
from which 200 endocentric adjectival compounds have been collected and
analysed. In this paper, we present selected examples which represent a summary of
our findings and final conclusions. The main goal of this analysis is to produce a
new classification of adjectival compounds in light of a synthetic-deverbative
distinction. The following criteria were employed:
1. An adjectival -ing/-ed/-en compound is considered to be synthetic if and
only if:
a) the non-head functions as a complement of the verb (following X-bar rules),
cf. time-consuming > to consume time > time = complement;
b) the HW (-ing or -ed/-en participial adjective) cannot be found as a single
pre-modifier of a noun in the BNC, cf. *killed (people) > brutally-killed (people); *a
looking (man) > a good-looking (man). In such cases, the status of the non-head is
considered obligatory.
2. An adjectival -ing or -ed/-en compound is considered non-synthetic if and
only if:
a) the non-head does not function as a complement of the verb (following X-
bar rules): cf. winter-flowering (plant) > to flower in the winter > in the winter =
adjunct. Bearing in mind that adjuncts are usually optional elements, cf. They have
found a suitcase (recently) > a recently-found (suitcase), but also the fact that
sometimes, as in A child behaves well > a well-behaved (child), an adverb may be
required by the verb, in such cases, adjuncts are considered to be obligatory adjuncts
(Hasselgrd 2010: 124);
b) the HW (-ing or -ed/-en participial adjective) can be found as a single pre-
modifier of a noun in the BNC, cf. a computer-controlled system > a controlled
system. In such cases, the status of the non-head is considered to be optional.
3. Synthetic compounds
According to the criteria defined in the previous section, typical examples of
synthetic adjectival compounds are given in (2):
280
(2) Noun + -ing participial adjective
(a) time-consuming (job) > to consume time
(b) guitar-playing (singer) > to play a guitar
(c) wine-producing (country) > to produce wine
The non-heads in (2), as they are usually non-derived nouns (time, guitar and
wine), function as a complement of a transitive verb, as illustrated by the example of
time-consuming (job) and the tree diagram in Figure 1:
Figure 1
In addition to the examples given in (2), the examples shown in (4) may also be
considered synthetic, due to the complement-oriented function of the non-head:
(4) Adjective + -ing participial adjective
(a) good-looking (man) > to look good
(b) foul-smelling (shirt) > to smell foul
(c) lovely-sounding (song) > to sound lovely
Namely, if we look at the examples in (4), we can see that the -ing participial
adjectives looking, smelling and sounding are derived from linking verbs (to look, to
smell, to sound). In addition, as the linking verbs are not transitive but verbs of
incomplete predication, which require either a noun phrase (NP) or an adjective
phrase (AdjP) to realise their respective meanings, this group of compounds may be
considered synthetic due to the fact that in (4), the non-head functions as a
(predicative) complement which is realised by the AdjP.
As the examples in (2) and (4) are, on the one hand, different due to their use
of different types of complementation (copular vs. transitive), but also, on the other
hand, similar because the non-head is a projection of the complement, this group of
compounds may be further divided into two sub-groups: (a) a group of typical
synthetic adjectival compounds, in which the HW is derived from a transitive verb;
and (b) a group of atypical synthetic adjectival compounds, in which the HW is
derived from a linking verb.
281
The non-heads in (2) and (4) have an obligatory status, as no examples of *a
consuming job, *a producing country, *a playing singer, *a looking man, *a
smelling shirt or *a sounding song
1
were found in the BNC.
4. Non-synthetic compounds
As previously mentioned, the presence of a deverbative adjective is not
automatically an indicator of a synthetic compound. In other words, if the non-head
within a compound does not function as a complement, such compounds are called
non-synthetic.
Typical examples of non-synthetic compounds are given in (5) and (6):
(5) Noun/adverb + -ing participial adjective
(a) winter-flowering (plant) > *to flower winter > to flower in the
winter
(b) floor-standing (lamp) > *to stand floor > to stand on the floor
(c) hard-working (mother) > to work hard
(d) gradually-weakening (economy) > to weaken gradually
(e) rapidly-rising employment (rate) > to rise rapidly
(f) fast-moving (train) > to move fast
(6) Noun/adverb + -ed/-en participial adjective
(a) computer-controlled (system) > to control X
2
by computer
(b) malaria-infected (man) > to infect X with malaria
(c) now retired (schoolmaster) > to retire X now
(d) barely deserved (victory) > to deserve X barely
The non-heads in (5) and (6) function as adjuncts, as illustrated by the example
of winter-flowering (plant) and the tree diagram (Figure 2):
1
Not to be confused with highly lexicalised expressions such as looking glass, sounding board,
etc. According to the BNC, looking is rarely combined with word classes other than nouns (only one
example of a noun + -ing (looking) participial adjective was found in the BNC: evil-looking bloke
BNC/J1J 1222).
2
X stands for an NP.
282
Figure 2
Morphologically speaking, the non-heads in (5) and (6) are usually non-derived
nouns, e.g. winter, floor, computer or malaria, or -ly adverbs, e.g. rapidly, barely or
gradually. In terms of their status, the non-heads are considered to be optional
because, as confirmed by the BNC, the participial adjectives in (5) and (6) can be
used as single pre-modifiers of nouns, as given in Tables (8) - (11):
-ing participial adjective with a noun
modifier (optional pre-modification)
-ing participial adjective as a single pre-
modifier of a noun (BNC)
winter-flowering (plant) a flowering plant (BNC/B06 1894)
floor-standing (lamp) a standing lamp C60103-13 (BNC/BMT
985)
(8) -ing participial adjectives with/without a noun modifier
-ing participial adjective with an adverb
modifier (optional pre-modification)
-ing participial adjective as a single pre-
modifier of a noun (BNC)
hard-working mother a working mother (BNC/AKU 670)
gradually weakening economy a weakening economy (BNC/HL7 4655)
rapidly rising employment rising employment (BNC/HLR 1771)
fast moving train a moving train (BNC/AHP 45)
(9) -ing participial adjectives with/without an adverb modifier
-ed/-en participial adjective with a noun
modifier (optional pre-modification)
-ed/-en participial adjective as a single pre-
modifier of a noun (BNC)
computer-controlled system a controlled system (BNC/J53 101 )
malaria-infected man an infected person (BNC/A0J 801)
(10) -ed/-en participial adjectives with/without a noun modifier
283
-ed/-en participial adjective with an adverb
modifier (optional pre-modification)
-ed/-en participial adjective as a single pre-
modifier of a noun (BNC)
now retired schoolmaster a retired schoolmaster (BNC/A1U 97)
barely deserved victory a deserved victory (BNC/KS7 1123)
(11) -ed/-en participial adjectives with/without an adverb modifier
In addition, the examples in (12) and (13) may also be considered to be non-
synthetic, as the non-heads in all of the examples apart from (12c) function as an
adjunct at the phrase level, while the non-head in (12c) is a projection of an external
argument of the verb, i.e. the subject:
(12) Noun + -ed/-en participial adjective
(a) London-based (company) > to base X in London > * X based.
(b) job-oriented (person) > to orient X towards a job > * X oriented.
(c) state-owned (company) > the state
3
owns X > * X owns a state
4
.
(13) Adverb + -ed/-en participial adjective
(a) recently-found (suitcase) > to find X recently > * X
has/have found recently.
(b) mistakenly-killed (secretary) > to kill X mistakenly > * X
has killed mistakenly.
(c) recently-obtained (permission) > to obtain X recently > * X
has obtained recently.
(d) well-behaved (child) > to behave well > *X behaves.
(e) well-spoken (woman) > to speak well > *X speaks.
However, it is interesting that the non-heads in (12) and (13) actually have an
obligatory status because the participial adjectives in (12) and (13) were not found as
single pre-modifiers of nouns in the BNC, as illustrated in Tables (14) and (15):
-ed/-en participial adjective with a noun
modifier
-ed/-en participial adjective as a single pre-
modifier of a noun (BNC)
state-owned company *a/the/ owned (NP
5
) (not found)
London-based company *a/the/ based (NP) (not found)
job-oriented person *a/the/ oriented (NP) (not found)
(14) -ed/-en participial adjectives with a noun modifier (obligatory pre-modification)
3
For more information, see Plag (2003).
4
As the verb to own is a transitive verb, and therefore it is possible to say to own a house or to
own a car (in some specific contexts, to own a state might be acceptable). However, in the case of
compounds with HWs derived from the verb to own, the non-head functions as the external argument,
and not the complement, cf. to own a car > * a car-owned (person) vs. the state owns a car > a state-
owned car.
5
(NP) - Noun Phrase
284
-ed/-en participial adjective with an adverb
modifier
-ed/-en participial adjective as a single pre-
modifier of a noun (BNC)
recently-found (suitcase) *a/the/ found (NP) (not found)
mistakenly-killed (secretary) *a/the/ killed (NP) (not found)
recently-obtained (permission) *a/the/ made (NP) (not found)
well-behaved (child) *a/the/ behaved (NP) (not found)
well-spoken (woman) *a/the/ spoken (NP) (not found)
(15) -ed/-en participial adjectives with an adverb modifier (obligatory pre-modification)
Although these examples have been recognised in contemporary grammar
books as participial adjectives which become acceptable when modified by
adverbs, such as: *a sold car > a recently sold car and *a built house > a well-built
house (Quirk et al. 1985: 1328), the obligatory status of the non-head in (13) is fairly
surprising, especially if we take into consideration the completely optional status of
an adjunct at the phrase/sentence level: They have found a suitcase (recently) > a
recently-found suitcase > *a found-suitcase > *a suitcase-found (person). However,
as pointed out by Quirk et al. (1985: 1328), exceptions to the general rule suggest
that the semantic and aspectual factors are more complicated than we have
indicated, meaning that the key issue is not the unacceptability of examples such as
*a sold car or *a found suitcase, but their linguistic interpretation. In line with this
theory, it is worth mentioning that this group of participial adjectives has been
discussed in detail in A Contrastive Study of Passive Participle in English and
Bosnian (Arnaut-Karovi 2008), in which this group of participial adjectives is
considered to constitute a passive participial phrase in which the specifier of the
maximal projection must be occupied by a certain pre-modifier in order to allow
participles such as killed or lost to be used attributively. However, as the main
purpose of this paper is not to analyse the compound groups in (14) and (15), but to
produce a classification of all adjectival compounds with a deverbative HW, we will
close this discussion by summarising the newly-proposed classification groups in
accordance with our findings and conclusions, as follows:
Figure 3
285
5. Conclusions
In line with the results of our analysis, we conclude that English endocentric
adjectival compounds with deverbative HWs (-ing or -ed/-en participial adjectives)
may be divided into two large groups: synthetic and non-synthetic adjectival
compounds.
Synthetic adjectival compounds are those in which:
a) the HW is derived from either transitive or linking verbs (typical vs. atypical
synthetic compounds),
b) the non-head functions as the complement at the phrase level (copulative vs.
transitive complementation), and
c) the non-head has an obligatory status within a compound, meaning that the
participial adjectives acting as the HW of such compounds cannot be used
attributively as single pre-modifiers of nouns.
Examples of such compounds include time-consuming (job), cf. *consuming
(job) and good-looking (man), cf. *a looking (man), etc.
In contrast to synthetic compounds, non-synthetic compounds are those in
which:
a) the HW is derived from either transitive or intransitive verbs (but not linking
verbs),
b) the non-head does not function as a complement but rather as an adjunct, or
occasionally as an agent argument of the verb (as in state-owned (company)), and
c) the non-head may have either an optional or an obligatory status, depending
on whether or not the participial adjective acting as the HW of the compound may
be used as a single pre-modifier of a noun, cf. a winter-flowering (plant) > a
flowering plant; vs. a London-based (company) > *a based company.
References
Arnaut-Karovi, K. (2008). Konstrastivna analiza pasivnog participa u atributivnoj
poziciju u engleskom i bosanskom jeziku. (M.A. thesis, University of Sarajevo).
Di Sciullo, A. M. and Williams, E. (1987). On the Definition of Word. Cambridge,
MA: MIT Press.
Haspelmath, M. (2002). Understanding Morphology. New York: Oxford University
Press.
Hasselgrd, H. (2010). Adjunct adverbials in English. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Katamba, F. (1993). Morphology. The Macmillan Press Ltd: Houndmills,
Basingstoke and London.
Lieber, R. (2004). Morphology and Lexical Semantics. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
286
Plag, I. (2003). Word-formation in English. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Quirk, R, Greenbaum, S., Leech, G. and Svartvik, J. (1985). A Comprehensive
Grammar of the English Language. London: Longman
Radford, A. (1997). Syntactic theory and the structure of English. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Roeper, T. and Siegel D. (1978). A Lexical Transformation for Verbal Compounds.
Linguistic Inquiry 9: 199-260.
Selkirk, E. (1982). The syntax of words. Cambridge, Mass: The MTT Press.
Spencer, A. (1991). Morphological theory: an introduction to word structure in
generative grammar. Oxford: Basil - Blackwell.
287
Merima Osmankadi
Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina
[email protected]
NEGATION AS A MEANS OF CONTRASTING OR CHALLENGING
ELEMENTS OF INTERTEXTUAL CONTEXT
Abstract The aim of this paper is to analyse negation in intertextual context. We
adopt the view that negation is inherently marked and that it is used in more
complex presuppositional contexts in which corresponding affirmatives have already
been discussed or in which the speaker/writer assumes the hearer's/reader's belief in
and familiarity with corresponding affirmative. In order to show this, we must take
into account both explicit and implicit negation. The methodology used in this
research is corpus analysis. The corpus consists of reports sent by the High
Representative in Bosnia-Herzegovina to the Secretary General of the United
Nations. These documents will be analysed as part of a wider extra-linguistic context
set in the post-Dayton Bosnia and Herzegovina. This study is expected to show that
negation in natural language does not operate according to the rules of logic, but has
rather distinct discoursal functions such as denying presuppositions, beliefs, and
expectations.
Key Words: negation, discourse, genre, intertextuality, presupposition, context,
post-Dayton Bosnia and Herzegovina.
1. Introduction
According to Larry Horn, who has dealt with different aspects of negation
throughout his linguistic career and who successfully continues to do so, producing
some of the most illuminating insights when semantic and pragmatic theory in
general is concerned, negation is to the linguist and linguistic philosopher as fruit to
Tantalus: waving seductively, alluringly palpable, yet just out of reach, within the
grasp only to escape once more. (Horn 1989: xiv) With this, Horn manages to
capture the true nature of negation, which has been seducing both philosophers and
linguists ever since the earliest beginnings of logic and philosophy, both East and
West. However, in spite of this complexity and elusiveness, we will try to pinpoint
one aspect of negation and concentrate on it, rather than on the whole of negation,
which would be an almost impossible task. Thus, the aim of this paper is to focus on
the function of negation in discourse, more precisely on one of the numerous
functions that negation can have in discourse, and that is the function of denying
288
presuppositions, beliefs, and expectations in intertextual context.
1
In order to do this,
we had to take into consideration both explicit and implicit negation, as well as
linguistic and extra-linguistic context in which it appears. Assuming that meaning is
not a constant but that it is generated in the context, we take the context to be one of
the variables that have to be taken into consideration when determining the function
and meaning of negation in natural languages. Before we go any further in the
analysis, we would like to define in somewhat general terms the subject matter of
this paper and that is negation, then a theoretical framework within which the
analysis will be undertaken, and finally the corpus and the context in which negation
has been analysed.
2. Definition of negation and its relationship with presupposition
There is a dramatic contrast between the superficial simplicity of logical
negation (reversing the truth value of a proposition, i.e. not-p is true if and only if p
is false) and the complexity of the form and function of negative sentences in actual
use.
2
(Horn, Kato 2000:1) In natural language, negation has, in addition to its strictly
logical aspect, a huge pragmatic component that cannot be predicted from logic.
(Givn 1978, 2002) Many authors agree that negation is inherently more marked in
terms of pragmatic-discoursal presuppositions, in addition to its being
morphologically, syntactically and semantically marked (languages apply different
syntactic devices to express negation, and in terms of semantics, negatives are
generally less informative than their positive counterparts). (Israel 2004). This
means that negatives are uttered in a context where corresponding affirmatives have
been discussed or where the speaker assumes the hearers belief in and familiarity
with the corresponding affirmative. (Givn 1978, 2002; Horn 1978a, 1978b)
Psycholinguistic and combined pragmatic, discourse and psycholinguistic research
1
Giora (2006) mentions a number of discourse roles or functions of negation. Apart from the
denial of propositions asserted in the text and denial of presuppositions, beliefs, and expectations, there
are also rejection, implicating the opposite of what is said, eliminating concepts within the scope of
negation so that their accessibility is reduced, producing metalinguistic negation, effecting mitigation
rather than elimination of concepts, intensifying, suggesting comparisons, etc. (Giora 2006: 982) Tottie
(1991) mentions, besides denial and rejection, also the use of negatives as supports in conversation, use
of negatives in direct questions to express speakers opinion, self-correction or repair as causes for
repetition, repetition for emphasis, etc. (Tottie 1991: 35-36)
2
Logical negation (in terms of classical logic) can be presented in the truth table:
A ~A
T F
F T
# #
which reads: if A is true ~A (~ is a symbol for a negative operator) is false, and if A is false ~A
is true; if A is neither true nor false (symbolized by #) then ~A is neither true nor false. (McCawley
1993: 327) See also Allwood et al. 1977; Horn 1989.
289
has successfully demonstrated that the processing of negation depends on the
context and on the fact whether true or false propositions have been affirmed or
negated respectively. As Fraenkel and Schul say, the context may be the most potent
factor in explaining the function and meaning of negation, with the least amount of
research to uncover its effect.
3
(Fraenkel, Schul 2008: 537) There have been,
however, studies other than psycholinguistic experiments, in which negation has
been analysed in context and in which very interesting results have been obtained,
most notably Giora 1994, Pagano 1994, Jordan 1998, Hidalgo-Downing 2000 and
Nahajec 2009.
Giora (1994) analysed negation in mainly political contexts (e.g. Menachem
Begins speech in Israel in 1981, Anwar Sadats peace speech before the Israeli
Knesset in 1977, etc.), and she concluded that negation, among other things, can be
used as a means to imply without asserting and that is why it is often employed in
political discourse. Thus, saying it isnt the case that X may pragmatically imply
its the case that Y. (Giora 1994: 111) As Giora says, messages are politically
advantageous if they are easy for the speaker to deny or difficult for the addressee to
reject, and this is what sometimes can be achieved by the use of negation. (Giora
1994: 104)
Hidalgo-Downing (2000) and Nahajec (2009) analyse negation in the context
of fiction (Hellers Catch-22) and poetry respectively. Hidalgo-Downing (2000)
studies negation within the framework of text world theory, and concludes that, in
terms of cognitive organization of the discourse, negation projects a non-factual
domain triggered by a negative word which contrasts with the states of affairs
described in the text world. From the point of view of its function as a discourse
element, negation contributes to the general function of updating information, and
thus it determines the direction of the ongoing discourse. (Hidalgo-Downing 2000:
222)
Nahajec (2009) agrees with Giora when she observes that, viewed as a
pragmatic phenomenon, negation operates to activate implied rather than explicit
meaning. Furthermore, she claims that negation is essentially context-dependent.
Namely, in order to understand a negated proposition, a reader or hearer must
cognitively process both the semantic content of the proposition, and also its context
of use, both the local context of the preceding text and the larger context of the texts
production including the social and cultural knowledge shared by writer or speaker
on the one hand and reader and hearer on the other. (Nahajec 2009: 109-110)
Pagano (1994) uses Totties (1991) terminology when it comes to two types of
negation in natural languages, and these are rejection and denial. According to Tottie
3
But see Beltrn et al. 2008 for context effects on negation, where one of the main conclusions
of their experiments is that when people are prompted to describe a state of affairs and it is not
accessible in an affirmative way, they are most likely to produce negative utterances even though there
is no expected presupposition do deny. Thus, besides rejecting presuppositions, negations may also be
triggered by other contexts, such as the context that involves some degree of uncertainty or low
informativeness. (Beltrn et al. 2008: 418)
290
(1991), rejection includes refusals as well, and it is used to reject explicit
suggestions. Denial, on the other hand, can be divided into explicit and implicit
denial, depending on whether what is denied has been explicitly asserted or not in
the preceding text. (Tottie 1991: 16) Implicit denial is thus not a denial that is
implicit in a particular context, but a denial that denies what has been implied in that
context. Pagano (1994) raises interesting questions as regards implicit denials as to
what the producer has in mind to cause him to produce a denial, why a particular
assertion should be implicit in a particular situation and why a denial fits the context
in which it appears. (Pagano 1994: 253) She classifies the reasons why writers make
implicit denials in 4 categories: denials of background information, denials of text-
processed information, unfulfilled expectations, and contrasts. (Pagano 1994: 258)
Jordan (1998) also claims that many denials are involved with the negation of a
presupposition in the mind of readers and listeners at the moment the
communication is made (what Tottie and Pagano call implicit denials), and that
pragmatic understanding of negation must not be restricted to an assumption that the
readers presupposition has been created earlier in the text. (Jordan 1998: 711-712)
What all these authors have in common is the recognition of the importance of
context in understanding negation and the fact that one of the most common
functions of negation in context is to deny presupposition.
In this place it would be appropriate to briefly comment on the difference
between semantic and pragmatic presupposition in order not to stir up confusion as
to what is meant when presupposition is mentioned in this paper. According to
McCawley (1993), semantic presupposition is a relationship between two
propositions, whereas pragmatic presupposition is a relationship between an
utterance and a proposition. (McCawley 1993: 328-329) According to most accounts
of presupposition, presuppositions cannot be cancelled, i.e. they are not vulnerable
to negation. Thus the negation of the verb regret does not cancel the presupposition
that such a verb triggers. I will borrow an example from McCawley:
(1) Bush regrets that he named Noriega attorney general.
(2) Bush does not regret that he named Noriega attorney general.
(McCawley 1993: 329)
Both (1) and (2) presuppose that Bush named Noriega attorney general.
However, Leech (1981) claims that despite the oddity of the following example, it
must be acknowledged to make sense:
(3) I dont regret leaving London actually I have never left it.
(Leech 1981: 287)
Leech says that according to the negation test sentences like (3) ought to be
nonsensical, and yet, at least when uttered with the special contrastive stress, they
are not.
4
(Leech 1981: 286) As presupposition triggers many authors mention the
4
Cf. in this sense the concept of metalinguistic negation as discussed in Horn 1985; 1989: 362-
444; van der Sandt 1991; Foolen 1991; Carston 1996; 2002; Chapman 1996; Geurts 1998; Burton-
291
relation of possession, premodification by participles, pseudo-cleft and cleft
sentences, adverbial clauses, comparative clauses, factive verbs, implicative verbs,
nominalisations.
5
Leech (1981) argues for a set of conditions for a presupposition.
These conditions are in part semantic in that they derive from a semantic
representation X the potential presuppositions of X. But the set of conditions also
includes pragmatic conditions. In a pragmatic view of presupposition, a distinction
is made between presupposition and assertion, where presupposition is that part of
the content of an utterance which is treated as if it is familiar, and assertion is that
part which is treated as if unfamiliar, new, or informative, and this is exactly the
position that will be taken in this paper.
6
(Leech 1981: 286-287) Leech (1981) also
claims that pragmatic presupposition can be thought of as basic to the progress of
communicative discourse. When two people engage in communication they share all
kinds of background knowledge, and as the conversation progresses, its context
progresses, in the sense that new elements are added to the pool of knowledge that
can be taken for granted. Any utterance belonging to a discourse will tend to contain
elements of meaning which are presupposed in that they are already part of the
context or pragmatic universe of discourse, and elements that are asserted, i.e. they
are not part of that context. (Leech 1981: 288) In addition to this, Leech states
something that is also widely discussed in both discourse and critical discourse
analysis, and that is the fact that the common ground between speaker and hearer is
not what is actually shared by the minds of speaker and hearer, but what the speaker,
for the purpose of the discourse, assumes that they share. Hence a speaker may
(either by mistake, or by design which is what critical discourse analysts claim)
inappropriately presuppose something of which the hearer may be ignorant. (Leech
1981: 289) In this way, a speaker may actually create presuppositions, even if they
do not really correspond to the actual state of affairs, in order to manipulate the
hearer or reader into taking something for granted. According to Fairclough (1989),
presuppositions are not properties of texts but an aspect of text producers
interpretations of intertextual context. (Fairclough 1989: 152) He says that
presuppositions can be sincere or manipulative. They can also have ideological
functions, when what they assume has the character of common sense in the service
of power. Fairclough (1989) illustrates his point with expressions like the Soviet
Roberts 1999. For more recent discussions about metalinguistic negation see Davis 2011 and Pitts
2011.
5
Cf. Karttunen 1973; Leech 1981: 283-284; Levinson 1983: 167-225; McCawley 1993: 330-346.
Cf. also Karttunen and Peters 1976, who treat all these syntactic structures not as presupposition-
triggers but as triggers of conventional implicature. (Karttunen, Peters 1976: 11)
6
Note that Levinson (1983) says that general pragmatic effects of foregrounding and
backgrounding information within a sentence can be achieved in many ways that are not
presuppositional in a narrow sense (i.e. philosophical and linguistic treatments of presupposition deal
with a much narrower range of phenomena than are included within the ordinary language sense of the
term), e.g. by changing word order, utilizing syntactic subordination, prosodic emphasis or the
emphatic particles. There is considerable overlap, but no equivalence, between presuppositional
accounts and accounts in terms of the topic / comment distinction. (Levinson 1983: 225)
292
threat, which become frequently repeated formulae in newspaper reports, and can
help to naturalize highly contentious propositions which are presupposed, in this
case that there is a threat (to the West) from the Soviet Union. Such
presuppositions do not evoke specific texts or textual series, but are rather attributed
to readers textual experience in a vague way they make a general appeal to
background knowledge. (Fairclough 1989: 154)
3. Theoretical framework
The complex nature of negation in natural language demands that it be
analysed within a very broad theoretical framework, which would comprise
semantics, pragmatics and (critical) discourse analysis. Starting from Bolingers
(1980) claim that it is necessary, in describing any part of language, to take it on its
own terms, we adopted an eclectic approach towards negation in this paper, trying to
take negation on its own terms and trying not to ignore its huge pragmatic
component in order for it to fit in a selected theoretical framework. As Bolinger
says, a theory can get in the way of explanation, (Bolinger 1980: 53) so we would
not like to reduce the multi-faceted richness of negation for the sake of theoretical
clarity. This is why it is very important to combine the results as regards negation
that have been obtained within a general semantic and pragmatic theory with the
results of discourse analysis concerning the importance of contextual effects in
generating meaning. According to Bhatia et al. (2008), discourse analysis is the
analysis of linguistic behavior, written and spoken, beyond the limits of individual
sentences, focusing primarily on the meaning constructed and interpreted as
language is used in a particular social context. (Bhatia et al. 2008: 1) Van Dijks
(2006b) sociocognitive account of context defines contexts not as objective and
deterministic constraints of society and culture, but as subjective participant
interpretations, constructions or definitions of such aspects of the social
environment. Contexts are thus understood as mental constructs, which function as
the interface between situational and societal structure on the one hand and
discourse structure on the other. (van Dijk 2006b: 163) Contextual control over
discourse production and understanding affects all levels and dimensions of text and
talk: deictic pronouns, politeness formulas, conditions of speech acts, the selection
of appropriate topics or the change of topics, levels of semantic description (i.e.
general vs. specific), the distribution of knowledge in assertions and
presuppositions, lexicalisation, syntactic structure and intonation. (van Dijk 2006b:
171) Van Dijk (2001) divides context into global and local context. Global contexts
are defined by the social, political, cultural and historical structures in which a
communicative event takes place, while local contexts are defined in terms of
properties of the immediate, interactional situation in which a communicative event
takes place. Properties of a local context are its overall domain (i.e. politics,
business, etc.), an overall action (legislation, propaganda, etc.), participants in
293
various communicative and social roles and their intentions, goals, knowledge,
norms and other beliefs. (van Dijk 2001: 108) What is important for the present
paper is van Dijks definition of local contexts as a form of mental model of a
communicative situation, i.e. as a context model. Such a formulation of a local
context allows subjective interpretations of social situations and differences between
language users in the same situation, strategically incomplete models, and in general
a flexible adaptation of discourse to the social situation, in other words, not the
various properties of the local situation that control and constrain text and talk, but
the ways language users interpret or define these properties in their mental context
models. (van Dijk 2001: 108-109) Context models are crucial in discourse analysis
because they represent the interface between mental information (knowledge,
beliefs, etc.) about an event and actual meaning being constructed in discourse. (van
Dijk 2001: 110) Van Dijk claims that understanding a discourse basically means
being able to construct a model for it, and in production it is the mental model of
events and situation that forms the starting point of all text and talk. What we
usually remember of a discourse is not so much its meaning, as the mental model we
construct during comprehension. (van Dijk 2001: 112)
4. Data
The corpus on which the present analysis has been made consists of twenty
reports (approximately 100, 000 words) that the High Representative in Bosnia-
Herzegovina sent to the Secretary-General of the United Nations in the period
between 14 March 1996 and 13 September 2001. The global context in which this
discourse is situated is the post-Dayton Bosnia-Herzegovina in which, at least for
the period immediately after the war in BiH, the High Representative, according to
the UN Resolution from 15 December 1995, has been the final authority in theatre
regarding interpretation of Annex 10 on the civilian implementation of the Peace
Agreement, and the person who has enjoyed such legal capacity as may be
necessary for the exercise of his functions, including the capacity to contract and to
acquire and dispose of real and personal property (Acts 27, 28, UN Resolution
S/RES/1031 (1995). The reports he sends to the Secretary-General of the United
Nations, and as of 2002 to the European Parliament (as an EU Special
Representative for BiH), belong to the institutional genre, except that they are
accessible to the general public on the OHR web page (www.ohr.int), unlike many
other types of institutional genre, e.g. different contracts, government documents,
international treaties, etc.
7
Also, these reports can be said to be part of the political
7
Genres are conventionalized discursive actions, in which participating individuals or
institutions have shared perceptions of communicative purposes as well as those of constraints
operating on their construction, interpretation and conditions of use. In this sense, genres are socially
constructed, interpreted and used in specific academic, social, institutional and professional contexts,
and have their own individual identity. (Bhatia 2004: 87)
294
discourse, although the real addressee is not the public in general but the Secretary-
General of the United Nations and the European Parliament. In sending the reports
and thus describing the situation in BiH, the High Representative is creating a
mental model or a representation of the reality for his superiors, upon which they
make their decisions regarding Bosnia-Herzegovina. According to Chilton (2004),
political discourse involves, among other things, the promotion of representations. It
involves the use of language oriented to the communication of conceptualisations of
the world. People communicate among themselves partly in order to coordinate
their world conceptions. (Chilton 2004: 201) The local context of the reports that the
High Representative sends to his superiors looks like this: its overall domain is
politics, its overall action is reporting about HRs work and the work of his Office in
Bosnia-Herzegovina during a certain period of time, and its immediate participants
are the High Representative and the Secretary-General of the United Nations, while
indirect participants are other members of the International Community in Bosnia-
Herzegovina, politicians and political parties in Bosnia-Herzegovina, and, of course,
its citizens. The High Representatives in the said period were Carl Bildt (1996-
1997), a Swedish diplomat, Carlos Westendorp (1997-1999), a Spanish diplomat,
and Wolfgang Petritsch (1999-2002), an Austrian UN representative and diplomat.
8
All the HRs reports have identical wording in their title, except for the number of
the report and the period of time which the report covers, as illustrated below:
11th Report of the High Representative for Implementation of the Peace
Agreement to the Secretary-General of the United Nations
Pursuant to Security Council Resolution 1031 of 15 December 1995, which
requested the Secretary General to submit reports from the High Representative in
accordance with Annex 10 of the Peace Agreement and the Conclusions of the
London Peace Implementation Conference of 8-9 December 1995, 1 herewith
present the eleventh report to the Council
The Report covers the activities of the Office of the High Representative and
developments in the areas listed below during the period from the beginning of July
1998 to the end of September 1998
As Bilbija (2005) says, the presence of this preamble is very important because
it marks the entire body of text as legitimised discourse. (Bilbija 2005: 53) As far as
the format of the reports is concerned, it changed slightly during the said period of
time, but in general the reports contain sections on the developments in different
areas, such as law, return of displaced persons and refugees, elections, media, human
rights, mine clearance, etc. in both the Federation and the Republic of Srpska, as
well as in Brko District.
8
See also Majstorovi 2007 for an overview of the High Representatives discourse in Bosnia-
Herzegovina.
295
5. Negation as a means of challenging or contrasting elements from
intertextual context some examples from the data
In order to illustrate how negation functions as a means of challenging or
contrasting elements of intertextual context by denying expectations, beliefs, and
presuppositions, we need to look at both explicit and implicit negation. In explicit
negation a negative marker not or some other overt negative device is used (no,
nothing, never, none, nowhere, nobody, no one, neither, nor, negative affixes),
alongside with adverbs that are negative in meaning but not in form (barely, hardly,
scarcely; rarely, seldom), and quantifiers (few, little). The latter are called
approximate negators by Huddleston and Pullum (2002) because they denote
imprecise quantification, which is close to zero or approximate to zero in contrast to
absolute negators (never, no, etc.) and verbal negation expressed by not, which
denote the zero point.
9
(Huddleston, Pullum 2002: 815-816). Implicit negation
includes covertly negative lexical items that trigger entailments or implicatures
involving negation of the subordinate clause (avoid, fail, forget, lack; ban, hinder,
prevent; deny, reject; doubt, be skeptical; amaze, shock, surprise; absurd,
ridiculous); prepositions against, before, without; adverb only; degree adverb too;
comparative and superlative constructions; overt and covert conditionals
(Huddleston, Pullum, 2002: 835). In the group of covertly negative lexical items
Seuren (2009) differentiates between those where the negation incorporated into
predicates actually follows the main verb and thus has scope over the subordinate
complement clause (deny, dissuade, etc.), and those where the negation takes scope
over the main verb (lose sth, forget, etc.). (Seuren, 2009: 321). In the following two
examples we can see the scopal difference between these two groups of lexical items
that are covertly negative:
(4) 86. On 15 November, I issued a Decision annulling the RSNA Conclusion
from November 10, which suspended evictions of certain categories of
persons between 1 November 1999 and 1 April 2000. If allowed to take
effect, this RSNA Conclusion would have denied refugees and displaced
persons their right to return to their homes during winter. Other than
Kiseljak and Kakanj however, where major improvements resulted from my
removal of the respective Mayors in November, there has been little
progress in Croat-majority areas.
(16
th
Report, 3 May 2000)
(5) Certain key conditions for elections must be improved during the weeks and
months ahead. I am particularly concerned with the lack of objectivity of
existing media, and my office in cooperation with the OSCE and key
countries is trying to facilitate the development of independent media
networks across the country in order to improve the climate for the
elections.
9
Barely, hardly, few, little, etc. are called approximate negatives by Jespersen (1917) as well.
296
(2nd Report, 10 July 1996)
In example (4) the negation incorporated into the predicate deny has scope over
the complement noun phrase their right to return to their homes during winter. If we
take Seurens (2009) analysis of the verb deny (deny = assert that not) to be correct,
we could paraphrase the sentence from example (4) as follows: The RSNA
Conclusion would have asserted that refugees and displaced persons do not have the
right to return to their homes during winter. As opposed to that, the negation
incorporated into the nominalisation lack (lack = not have) in example (5) has scope
over the noun itself, and this sentence could be paraphrased in the following way: I
am particularly concerned with existing media not being objective, or Existing
media do not have objectivity and that concerns me.
In our corpus, we have observed additional examples of implicit negation, e.g.
the construction of the type is/has yet/still to do sth/to be done, idiomatic
expressions like go down the road of partition, pay lip service to, certain uses of the
modal and lexical verb need, as well as the noun need, the modal verbs should,
ought to, and constructions such as rather than, far from, instead of, etc. To have a
clearer view of how these structures and constructions can have inherent negative
meaning, let us look at the following two examples:
(6) 32. With the gradual transfer of authority now underway, it is a cause of
great concern to me that a large number of Serbs have chosen to leave
Sarajevo. The reasons for this are many. The wounds left by 42 months of
bitter and brutal war cannot be healed in two or three months. It is also my
view that stronger political measures should have been taken by the Bosnian
authorities to win Serb confidence in their commitment to a multi-ethnic
Sarajevo and Bosnia, and encourage the Serbs to stay. There has also been
irresponsible propaganda by key Republika Srpska personalities advocating
the ethnic division of the country. Events during the weeks preceding and at
the beginning of the transition also fuelled Serb fears and accelerated the
exodus.
(1
st
Report, 14 March 1996)
(7) 78. A lack of response from the international community in funding of the
Department of Civil Aviation as a joint institution has slowed further
progress. This will hinder economic recovery in the aviation sector.
International efforts centred on the physical development of Sarajevo
airfield, minor passenger terminal improvements in Mostar and limited
Sarajevo terminal air traffic systems, but have largely ignored safety and
support activities that are central to operating the aviation system to
International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) standards. In addition,
the Department's field staff requirement of approximately 160 persons has
yet to be implemented.
(8
th
Report, 16 January 1998)
The underlined verb phrase in example (6) implies that Bosnian authorities did
not take political measures that would be strong enough to win Serb confidence in
297
their commitment to a multi-ethnic Sarajevo and Bosnia. The underlined
construction in example (7) implies that the Departments field staff requirement has
not been implemented.
Out of 2960 examples excerpted from the corpus, more than half of them
belong to implicit negation (1967 examples), while there are only 892 examples of
explicit negation. Such a low percentage of explicit negation (30.1%) is due to the
fact that negation is used much less frequently in written than in spoken discourse.
Biber et al. (1999) mention different factors that contribute to the very high
frequency of negatives in spoken discourse, and one of the most prominent factors
among them is the fact that conversation is interactive and invites both agreement
and disagreement, while writing generally presents the perspective of a single
author. (Biber et al. 1999: 159) Tottie (1991) conducted a quantitative corpus
analysis of negation in both speech and writing, and her findings show that the
frequency of negative expressions was more than twice as high in the spoken texts
as in the written texts.
10
(Tottie 1991: 17) She too attributes such high frequency of
negatives in spoken discourse to the fact that spoken communication is highly
interactive, i.e. there is a constant reversal of roles, whereas written communication
is characterized by its low degree of direct interaction between sender and receiver
and no role-shifting. (Tottie 1999: 18-19) However, as Tottie herself admits, a
receiver is normally present in the mind of the sender, and the absence of mutual
monitoring possibilities does not preclude cooperation on the part of the sender.
(Tottie 1991: 19) What is more, research in discourse analysis demonstrates that the
flow of discourse in written texts is basically interactive, and that what is denied by
the use of negation does not necessarily have to be explicitly asserted in the text but
can also be presupposed.
In the analysed corpus there are also 101 examples of double negation, where
two negatives occur cancelling each other and thus expressing an array of
meanings.
11
The following example from the corpus contains two instances of
double negation:
(8) 6. But almost all progress has required continued and intensive efforts from
the international community and in several cases I have had to resort to
making interim binding decisions in accordance with my authority under
Annex 10 of the Peace Agreement. A crucial moment in the peace
implementation process has now been reached. As we approach the end of
the consolidation period, the progress made thus far, although substantial,
is still not irreversible. Civilian peace implementation in BiH cannot yet
proceed without continued international military support.
(10
th
Report, 14 July 1998)
10
She analysed only explicit negatives because it is difficult to list all inherent negatives, spot
them in texts, and make a computerized lexical search for them. (Tottie 1991: 6)
11
For one of the earlier pragmatic treatments of double negation see Horn (1991).
298
On the surface, the first instance of double negation in example (8), not
irreversible, yields the following reading the situation in Bosnia-Herzegovina is not
stable yet, and BiH can still return to the condition in which it was during the war
and immediately after it. The implicature that can be discerned here is that the
presence of the International Community in BiH is still very much needed if we do
not want this country to return to war-like circumstances. At the same time, the
progress made in implementing the peace process is explicitly mentioned in the
sentence, because the HR has to justify all the financial resources that were spent in
the implementation of the Dayton Agreement. The implicature that the International
Community should stay in BiH in spite of the substantial progress it had made until
then is reinforced by the double negation in the next sentence, cannot yet proceed
without, which, according to the law of double negation, would be interpreted as
can only proceed with. However, when we take both the textual and extra-
linguistic context into consideration, we see that this double negation implicates the
necessity of the presence of military forces in BiH. Both instances of double
negation in example (8) are used to mitigate the fact that both civilian and military
segments of the International Community should remain in BiH, and to create the
presupposition that without the International Community BiH would return to the
previous war-like condition. This presupposition is created with the intention to keep
the citizens of BiH in constant fear of war and its consequences, and for the
International Community to remain in BiH as long as possible.
The present analysis has further shown that for the purpose of challenging or
contrasting elements of intertextual context mainly explicit negation is used (out of
619 examples that illustrate this function of negation in discourse, 453 of them
belong to explicit, which is approximately 73%, and only 166 to implicit negation).
These findings correspond to claims of many authors that negation is mainly used in
more complex presuppositional contexts, i.e. in those contexts in which it is
felicitous to deny, challenge, or contrast elements either of textual or intertextual
discourse. Fairclough (1989) argues that participants in any discourse operate on the
basis of assumptions about which previous discourses the current one is connected
to, and their assumptions determine what can be taken as given in the sense of part
of common experience, what can be alluded to, disagreed with, challenged, denied,
etc. (Fairclough 1989: 145)
With this in mind, let us consider the following example. In it, Carlos
Westendorp does not deny the fact that his intention was to introduce superficial
changes (which, he admits, is true), but he denies what people might have thought
his sole intentions were when he took up the position of HR. In addition to that
intention, he intended to do other things as well. In this way, he challenges
something which is taken for granted in the present discourse, and not the truth of
the fact.
(9) When I arrived in Sarajevo in the early summer of 1997, my intention was
not merely to introduce superficial changes by tackling the minutiae of
outstanding small-scale problems. Instead I pledged to identify the
299
structures that underpinned radical nationalism, and to transform those
structures into the neutral equivalents that exist in Western-style
democracies.
(14
th
Report, 16 July 1999, Annex 1: Assessment of Developments During My
Tenure)
12
Example (9) also illustrates what many linguists call metalinguistic negation,
which is, in short, a special or marked use of negation. It is irreducible to the
ordinary truth-functional operator, and is presupposition-cancelling. (Horn 1985:
132) It has been usually assumed that metalinguistic negation is used to deny or
object to any aspect of a previous utterance from the conventional or
conversational implicata that may be associated with it, to its syntactic,
morphological, or phonetic form. (Horn 1985: 144) However, we see here that it can
also be used to challenge or object to elements of intertextual context, i.e. to
elements that are not present in the text in which negation is used.
In example (10), negation is used to state the fact that expectations regarding
paying compensation and complying with different orders had not been met. What
relates this example to the previous one is the fact that these expectations are not
raised or explicitly mentioned in the text (the RS was expected to pay compensation
in the three cases because it was required to do so; the RS was expected to comply
with the order of the Human Rights Chamber to provide information on the Father
Matanovic case, because it is common knowledge that one should comply with
orders since complying with orders is part of felicity conditions of the speech act of
ordering; the RS was expected to comply with the order in the Islamic Community
case of the Human Rights Chamber for the same reason as in the previous instance).
The participants in the discourse are nonetheless familiar with what is being denied,
since all these events are part of participants background or common knowledge
and they are therefore taken for granted by the writer of the report.
(10) 70. Continued difficulties are expected, however, in the implementation of
the Institutions' recent decisions which require the eviction of current
occupants of previously abandoned accommodation. In six of the eight
Chamber decisions requiring the payment of compensation from the
Federation, relatively large amounts of compensation have been paid.
Orders for payment have been given by the Prime Minister to the Minister of
Finance in the remaining cases. I remain deeply concerned, however, that
the RS has not yet paid compensation in the three cases in which payment
has been required. In addition, the RS has not complied with the order of the
Human Rights Chamber to provide all available information on the Father
Matanovic case involving the disappearance of a priest and his family near
the end of the war. In addition, the RS has not complied with the order in the
Islamic community case of the Human Rights Chamber in which it must
12
The 14
th
Report contains an annex, which is not a usual part of HRs reports, and which in this
case is written by the HR Carlos Westendorp in his last report as HR.
300
allow for the construction of enclosures and issue permits for the building of
mosques in the RS. The deadline for compliance in this case has expired.
(15
th
Report, 1 November 1999)
In this example, negation is used to express unfulfilled expectations, and these
expectations are not explicitly expressed in the text, but are taken for granted.
Example (10) is thus another illustration of the fact that explicit negation is for the
most part used in more complex presuppositional contexts.
13
Although implicit negation has not to my knowledge been dealt with regarding
its functions in the context, the present analysis shows that it can, though rarely,
function as a denial of intertextual elements. Let us look at the following example:
(11) 50. Some practical steps in this direction have been achieved, including
the participation of Serbs in the Ilidza Municipal Council and the
resumption of the educational program for Serb children in that
municipality. However, many of the other arrangements agreed to in the
JCC for Sarajevo have yet to be fulfilled by the local authorities; the result
is that there has not been a substantial return of Serbs to the Sarajevo area.
Federation authorities are not doing enough to regulate the occupation of
empty houses by refugees or displaced persons from other parts of Bosnia
and Herzegovina, nor are they taking sufficient steps to protect Serbs who
have chosen to remain in Sarajevo from threats and occasional violent
incidents.
(2
nd
Report, 10 July 1996)
The underlined phrase in example (11) implies that many of the arrangements
agreed to in the JCC for Sarajevo have not been fulfilled, thus denying the
expectation that they would be. It is to be noted that most examples of implicit
negation from the corpus used in this function interact with concessive
constructions, and so confirm Jordans (1998) claim that in concession there are
semantic given-new concepts involved, but also deduction and denial. The main
clause in a concessive relation is a denial and/or correction of the expected
deduction based on the information presented in the subordinate clause. (Jordan
1998: 727) In example (11), we have a concessive conjunct however introducing the
sentence in which implicit negation has been used. The first two sentences from
example (11) can be paraphrased as Although some practical steps in this direction
have been achieved, many of the other arrangements agreed to in the JCC for
Sarajevo have not been fulfilled, which means that based on practical steps in this
direction that have been achieved it could have been expected that the arrangements
13
Cf. now famous example by Givn (1978, 1979). He remarks on the oddness of a discourse-
initial utterance Oh, my wife is not pregnant, when the hearer cannot be expected to assume that there
was some likelihood that my wife was pregnant, that the subject has been under discussion, that it had
been considered as a probability, etc. If the hearer cannot make this assumption, Givn notes that he is
likely to respond accordingly, Wait a minute was she supposed to be pregnant? The affirmative
counterpart (My wife is pregnant) is not comparably restricted. (Givn 1978: 79-81; 1979: 103-104)
301
agreed to would be fulfilled. This expectation is nevertheless denied by the use of
implicit negation in the text.
6. Conclusion
In conclusion, we can say that the intuitive hypothesis about the
presupposition-cancelling function of explicit negation has been fully confirmed by
the present analysis of political discourse, with implicit negation also taking part in
this function, albeit to a much lesser degree. The main function of implicit negation
seems to be more of a descriptive nature, being used very often as a strategy of what
van Dijk (2006a) calls positive self-presentation and negative other-presentation in
discourse. (van Dijk 2006a: 370-374) Negation in general seems to require a more
complex presuppositional context in order to be used felicitously, with the concepts
being denied, challenged or contrasted by the use of negation present as part of the
background knowledge of all discourse participants, both direct and indirect. This
presence makes it possible for the speaker to use negation to challenge these
elements, and for the hearer to understand what the speaker is actually referring to.
There is a whole network of different texts and discourses which participants can
refer to without having mentioned them explicitly, exactly because of
presupposition. Presupposition can also be created by the speaker by using certain
syntactic constructions that are called presupposition-triggers, such as participles in
premodifying position, cleft and pseudo-cleft sentences, nominalisations, to mention
just a few of them. Negation is also a very useful tool for creating presuppositions,
because of the general assumption that one would not deny something that has not
been either mentioned explicitly in the discourse or assumed to be part of the general
background knowledge of discourse participants. The aim of the paper was to single
out one specific function of negation in a specific political discourse and that
function is to challenge elements of intertextual discourse. We have been able to
show that besides explicit negation, implicit negation can also have this function in
discourse, and that what is being denied has either to be asserted or presupposed in
order for negation to be used felicitously.
References
Allwood, J., et al. (1977). Logic in Linguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Beltrn, D., et al. (2008). Context effects on the spontaneous production of
negation. Intercultural Pragmatics 5 (4): 409-419.
Bhatia, V. K. (2004). Worlds of Written Discourse: A Genre-Based View. London,
New York: Continuum.
Bhatia, V. K., et al. (2008). Approaches to Discourse Analysis. In: V. K. Bhatia,
et al. (eds.). Advances in Discourse Studies. London and New York: Routledge,
1-17.
302
Biber, D., et al. (1999). The Longman Grammar of Spoken and Written Language,
London: Longman.
Bilbija, S. (2005). Linguistic and Pragmatic Properties of the Discourse of the High
Representative in the Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina. In: L. E. Breivik
and O. verland (eds.). The Power of Language: A collection of Essays. Oslo:
Novus Press, 53-63.
Bolinger, D. (1980). A not impartial review of a not impeachable theory: Some
new adventures of ungrammaticality. In: R. W. Shuy and A. Shnukal (eds.).
Language Use and the Uses of Language. Washington D.C.: Georgetown
University Press, 53- 67.
Burton-Roberts, N. (1999). Presupposition-cancellation and metalinguistic
negation: a reply to Carston. Journal of Linguistics 35: 347-364.
Carston, R. (1996). Metalinguistic negation and echoic use. Journal of Pragmatics
25: 309 330.
Carston, R. (2002). Thoughts and Utterances The Pragmatics of Explicit
Communication. Oxford: Blackwell.
Chapman, S. (1996). Some observations on metalinguistic negation. Journal of
Linguistics 32: 387-402.
Chilton, P. (2004). Analysing Political Discourse: Theory and practice. London,
New York: Routledge.
Davis, W. A. (2011). Metalinguistic negations, denial, and idioms. Journal of
Pragmatics 43: 2548-2577. Available at:
http://www.elsevier.com/locate/pragma. Retrieved on: 16 June 2011
van Dijk, T. A. (2001). Multidisciplinary CDA: a plea for diversity. In: R. Wodak
and M. Meyer (eds.). Methods of Critical Discourse Analysis. London: Sage
Publications, 95- 120.
van Dijk, T. A. (2006a). Discourse and manipulation. Discourse & Society 17 (2):
359-383. Available at: http://das.sagepub.com. Retrieved on 10 November
2007.
van Dijk, T. A. (2006b). Discourse, context and cognition. Discourse Studies 8
(1): 159 177. Available at: http://dis.sagepub.com. Retrieved on 7 November
2007.
Fairclough, N. (1989). Language and Power. London: Longman.
Foolen, A. (1991). Metalinguistic Negation and Pragmatic Ambiguity: Some
comments on a proposal by Laurence Horn. Pragmatics 1/2: 217-237.
Fraenkel, T. and Schul, Y. (2008). The meaning of negated adjectives.
Intercultural Pragmatics 5 (4): 517-540.
Geurts, B. (1998). The Mechanisms of Denial. Language 74 (2): 274-307.
Giora, R. (1994). On the Political Message: Pretending to Communicate. In: H.
Parret (ed.). Pretending to Communicate. Berlin/New York: Walter de Gruyter,
104-123.
Giora, R. (2006) Anything negatives can do affirmatives can do just as well, except
for some metaphors. Journal of Pragmatics 38: 981-1014.
303
Givn, T. (1978). Negation in Language: Pragmatics, Function, Ontology. In: P.
Cole (ed.). Syntax and Semantics 9: Pragmatics. New York: Academic Press.
69-112.
Givn, T. (1979). On Understanding Grammar. New York: Academic Press.
Givn, T. (2002). Bio-Linguistics: The Santa Barbara Lectures. Amsterdam,
Philadelphia: John Benjamins.
Hidalgo-Downing, L. (2000). Negation in Discourse: A text world approach to
Joseph Hellers Catch-22. Language and Literature 9 (3): 215-239. Available
at: http://lal.sagepub.com. Retrieved on 16 November 2007.
Horn, L. R. (1978a). Some Aspects of Negation. In: J. H. Greenberg, et al. (eds.).
Universals of Human Language, Vol. 4, Syntax. Stanford, California: Stanford
University Press, 127-210.
Horn, L. R. (1978b). Remarks on Neg-Raising. In: P. Cole (ed.). Syntax and
Semantics 9: Pragmatics. New York: Academic Press, 129-220.
Horn, L. R. (1985). Metalinguistic Negation and Pragmatic Ambiguity. Language
61 (1): 121-174.
Horn, L. R. (1989). A Natural History of Negation. Chicago and London: The
University of Chicago Press.
Horn, L. R. (1991). Duplex Negatio affirmat...: The Economy of Double
Negation. Papers from the Regional Meeting of the Chicago Linguistic
Society. Part Two 27: The Parasession on Negation: 80-106.
Horn, L. R. and Kato, Y. (2000). Introduction: Negation and Polarity at the
Millennium. In: L. R. Horn and Y. Kato (eds.). Negation and Polarity:
Syntactic and Semantic Perspectives. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1-19.
Huddleston, R. and Pullum, G. K. (2002). The Cambridge Grammar of the English
Language. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Israel, M. (2004). The Pragmatics of Polarity. In: L. Horn and G. Ward (eds.). The
Handbook of Pragmatics, Oxford: Blackwell, 701-723.
Jespersen, O. (1917). Negation in English and Other Languages. Copenhagen: A.F.
Hst.
Jordan, M. P. (1998). The power of negation in English: Text, context and
relevance. Journal of Pragmatics 29: 705-752.
Karttunen, L. (1973). Presuppositions of Compund Sentences. Linguistic Inquiry
IV (2): 169-193.
Karttunen, L. and Peters, S. (1976). What Indirect Questions Conventionally
Implicate. Papers from the Twelfth Regional Meeting of the Chicago
Linguistic Society: 351-368.
Leech, G. (1981). Semantics. 2nd edition. Harmondsworth: Pelican Books.
Levinson, S. (1983). Pragmatics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
McCawley, J. D. (1993). Everything that Linguists have Always Wanted to Know
about Logic *but were ashamed to ask. 2nd edition. Chicago and London: The
University of Chicago Press.
304
Majstorovi, D. (2007). Construction of Europeanization in the High
Representatives discourse in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Discourse & Society
18 (5): 627-651. Available at: http://das.sagepub.com. Retrieved on 27 October
2009.
Nahajec, L. (2009). Negation and the creation of implicit meaning in poetry.
Language and Literature 18 (2): 109-127. Available at: http://lal.sagepub.com.
Retrieved on 27 October 2009.
Pagano, A. (1994). Negatives in written text. In: M. Coulthard (ed.). Advances in
Written Text Analysis. London: Routledge, 250-265.
Pitts, A. (2011). Exploring a Pragmatic Ambiguity of Negation. Language 87
(2): 346 368.
van der Sandt, R. A. (1991). Denial. Papers from the Regional Meeting of the
Chicago Linguistic Society. Part Two 27: The Parasession on Negation. 331-
344.
Seuren, P. A. M. (2009). Language in Cognition: Language from Within, Vol.1.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Tottie, G. (1991). Negation in English Speech and Writing A Study in Variation.
San Diego: Academic Press.
305
Biljana Radi-Bojani
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
ANIMAL METAPHORS IN EFL VOCABULARY ACQUISITION
1
Abstract Leaning on the theory of applied cognitive linguistics, the paper
investigates how a group of EFL university students understand metaphorically used
animal names in sentential contexts and how they apply the knowledge of
stereotypes connected with various animals to solve problems at the level of
vocabulary. Using the qualitative research paradigm, the author relies on classroom
observation and interaction with students to closely examine their processes of
reasoning, which reveals a variety of language learning strategies. Two different
types of exercises, one unguided and another one teacher-guided, are in fact
examples of the approach that gives the best results in EFL metaphor-based
vocabulary acquisition.
Key words: applied cognitive linguistics, animal metaphors, figurative thinking,
inductive approach, qualitative research, observation.
1. Introduction
Metaphor has proven to be a useful tool in the field of foreign language
learning. Its potential was first elaborated by Lazar (1996), who claims that
figurative meaning is inevitable in the lexicon of native speakers, enabling them to
understand and produce metaphorical expressions. Furthermore, she concludes that
this ability is also a skill of great importance for foreign language learners, who
should be able to handle metaphoricity as their knowledge of the foreign language
grows. In a similar vein, Littlemore (2001) asserts that metaphorical input in the
foreign language classroom improves the linguistic production of foreign learners,
whose communicative competence increases in tandem with their understanding of
metaphorical expressions in the foreign language.
Because they lack native competence, learners are not always able to process
figurative meanings in the same way as native speakers. Nevertheless, they benefit
from the analytical, enquiring approach called figurative thinking (Littlemore and
Low 2006). This is defined as the use of a query routine which assumes that an
unknown expression might be figurative, or which asks what the implications of
1
The paper is the result of research conducted within project no. 178002 Languages and
cultures in space and time funded by the Ministry of Education and Science of Republic Serbia.
306
using a figurative expression might be (Littlemore and Low 2006: 6). In other
words, when non-native speakers encounter words or phrases that they do not
understand, they must slow down if reading, or engage in extensive online analysis
if listening, and ask themselves a series of questions to decipher the unknown
segments of a sentence.
In order for non-native speakers to understand figurative meaning, they must
connect two different elements, and draw several inferences, as they decode the
connections between source and target domains. This is a challenging task that
requires help from the teacher. The consensus is that foreign language teaching
should focus on raising metaphor awareness by demonstrating that metaphor is not
merely a poetic form, but a pervasive linguistic and conceptual mechanism. As with
any theoretical linguistic construct introduced in foreign language teaching, the
question arises: how much exposure to theory will benefit the students? Littlemore
(2004) shows that the theory-based approach clutters the teaching process with
unnecessary information, especially when learners lack specialized linguistic
knowledge; and that the practice-based inductive approach is more appealing to
foreign language students, who correspondingly achieve a deeper understanding of
metaphors.
In their detailed account of the inductive approach, Littlemore and Low (2006:
24-25) show that basic questions regarding the appearance, function or position of
an entity can greatly help students to grasp the metaphorical meanings of words and
phrases in the foreign language, especially in simple transfers of meaning. Other
expressions, however, will remain unknown, often because students do not know the
basic meaning of the word, or because the word itself is archaic or obsolete. The
query routine includes simple, direct questions concerning the basic meaning of the
words, and can point the students in the right direction. In addition, such questions
can also trigger deeper understanding and information processing, during which
students actively tackle the given topic, ask questions and make meaningful
connections with other topics. This approach has proven to be necessary for students
to integrate new meanings with existing knowledge. Furthermore, it enhances the
learning process and aids the retention of new information, with the ultimate result
of greater learner autonomy. To conclude, this method of vocabulary acquisition
does not aim to replace other methods as a separate, special programme. Instead, it is
meant to be integrated with other approaches in foreign language teaching so that
both students and teachers can achieve better results (Boers 2000).
2. Research methodology
The research investigates how a group of EFL university students understand
metaphors. Because the human conceptual system cannot be observed externally,
testing and statistical analysis of test results would not yield useful data. Rather, the
research employs the naturalistic paradigm, focusing on the behaviour of people in
their natural surroundings (Tullis Owen 2008). One of the main tenets of this
307
paradigm is that reality is subjective and socially conditioned (Lincoln and Guba
1985: 24-32), and that human communication should therefore be observed in its
natural setting. Context is essential, with genuine knowledge about human
interaction or mental processes best acquired not in controlled laboratory conditions,
but in everyday settings, (Eisner 1991: 32-33).
Data collection in naturalistic research implies face-to-face interaction between
researcher and informants. The researcher is considered to be the most important
instrument in data collection, which can be conducted by observation (in which
researchers make notes about what they see) or by questionnaires and interviews (in
which researchers make notes about what informants tell them).
Because context is vital for understanding human behaviour, it is imperative
to observe human interaction on a daily basis (Eisner 1991: 32-33), which
emphasizes the role of the observer as a research instrument. Observation is one of
the oldest research methods which relies on collecting impressions about the world
that surrounds the researcher/observer. In qualitative research observation is used to
describe the experiences of research participants, because it relies on the
presupposition that human behaviour is purposeful and reflects deeper values and
convictions (Richards 2003: 106). Observation is usually noted in a journal (or
sometimes recorded by camera or tape recorder) and comprises detailed descriptions
of external events in which the informants participated, the reactions of both
informants and observer, and the observers reflections, which later serve as a
framework for the interpretation of research results (Patton 2002: 302-304).
The research presented in this article is part of a larger project which lasted for
one academic year, and was organized as follows: during the 2007/08 academic
year, first-year students of English language and literature at the Department of
English, University of Novi Sad, were divided into two groups. One group was
designated as the experimental group, the other as the control group. Both groups
attended the same English language classes at the B2 level of the Common European
Framework of Reference, using the same coursebook with the same teacher. The
only difference was that the experimental group was given structured metaphorical
input during the whole year, while the control group was not. The metaphorical
input followed all the tenets of the inductive approach, which means that the
teacher/observer presented various metaphors through tasks which enabled the
students to make inferences and use query routines. During the two semesters of
classes the teacher/observer kept a detailed class journal noting all activities and
student answers and reactions to various tasks. This is the source of the material
analysed in this paper. A small selection of material was chosen in order to
demonstrate the efficiency both of the metaphorical input and the inductive
approach.
308
3. Animal metaphors
Throughout the entire course the teacher/observer attempted to incorporate
metaphorical input into the coursebook material, seeking metaphors to match the
topics and vocabulary of individual units. One illustration used in this paper is a
group of metaphorical expressions stemming from the metaphor PEOPLE ARE
ANIMALS, which was covered in Unit 11, whose focus was on the natural
environment.
This metaphor has been researched by a number of linguists (Wierzbicka 1985,
Barcelona 1998, Martsa 1999, Halupka and Radi 2003, Prodanovi-Stanki 2008),
who have established that a basis for the transfer of meaning is the fact that some
characteristics of animals (aggressive behaviour, living place, etc.) are mapped onto
human characteristics (anger, meeting point, etc.). Some examples are shown below:
source domain target domain example
size human size Oprah Winfrey feels like a fat cow.
appearance human appearance Kathy had a date with a fox last
night.
behaviour human behaviour Sometimes, she can be a complete
and utter bitch.
relation to people relation to other people Full of courage, he is as faithful as a
dog to his officers.
In the first example the transfer of meaning relies primarily on the size of the
cow, which is normally a big, bulky animal, regardless of whether it is fat or skinny.
The meaning is emphasized by the use of the adjective fat, the result being a
description of the weight of popular television host Oprah Winfrey. The second
example is based on the appearance of the fox, an animal with reddish brown fur and
a bushy tail, which is perceived as beautiful and whose fur is often used for human
garments. Foxes are also perceived as sly and cunning, traits which provide the basis
for another transfer of meaning (also found in the simile as cunning as a fox). The
third example rests on the behaviour of female dogs, bitches, especially their
territorial conduct when protecting offspring. The final example is a clear
demonstration of how dogs relate to people, as the first tamed and domesticated
animals, whose nature is generally very friendly, protective and faithful.
It is fairly obvious that most of the metaphorical meanings exemplified in this
section are common knowledge, usually stemming either from folk etymology
(foxes are sly) or some objective animal characteristics. That is why in the research
the teacher presupposed that metaphors with animal names would pose few major
problems for the students. This proved to be only partly true.
309
4. Animal metaphors unguided practice
The tasks selected for this paper were covered at the end of the course, when
the effects of the inductive approach and metaphorical input were noticeable. The
unit focused on the natural environment, which was an adequate introduction for
animal metaphors that would be covered over the next few classes.
The material that was brought to the first class is given in Box 1. Students read
all sentences individually and tried to complete them with the animal names they
thought were correct.
You might have noticed that animals are very frequently present in metaphors to describe
people's characteristics as well as actions. In some cases, animal names can be used as
verbs to describe actions, making the language much more vivid.
Example.
He was so hungry that as soon as the food was put on the dinner table, he wolfed
everything down.
Now you try to finish the exercises below by writing the correct animal names in the
boxes.
1. Two boys seemed to be fighting. A man went to stop them. One of the boys said, "Do
not worry. We are just _____ (1) around. Nobody is going to get hurt".
2. According to the newspapers, the demonstrators were _____ (2) by the armed police
and did not reach the government headquarters.
3. He was simply caught in a sea of people. He had no choice but to _____ (3) his way
through to get away from the crowds.
4. Jimmy is curious about machines and has taken apart everything he can lay his hands on
at home. Only yesterday he was _____ (4) around with my new clock and ended up
breaking it.
5. I agreed to go hiking with my friends, but when we arrived at the foot of the mountain I
_____ (5) out and ended up waiting there for six hours for my friends to come back.
6. Mrs. Dursley is always craning her long neck over the garden fence to spy on her
neighbours. Whenever somebody new moves to the neighbourhood, she always manages
to _____ (6) out the new person's background.
Box 1: Sentences with animal names
Although students gave many incorrect answers, it is still interesting to analyse
why they chose certain animal names to fill in the blanks. The majority said the
answer for the first gap was monkeying around because they had heard that phrase
before, and because they considered monkeys playful creatures. Some students
opted for bulled in the second sentence, describing the police as big and strong like
bulls, forcing demonstrators to step back. The answer proposed for the third
sentence was beaver his way, explained by the beaver traits of dexterity and skill.
The fourth and fifth sentences posed no problem for the students, whereas the sixth
310
was highly problematic. Most of the students could provide no answer, until one
student suggested giraffe explaining that Mrs. Dursley was like a giraffe with a
long neck, craning over the fence.
Although it is clear that most student answers were incorrect collocations, the
query routines were in most cases appropriate. In essence, they either relied on the
physical appearance of animals (e.g. bull, giraffe) or their behaviour (e.g. monkey,
beaver), which are steps in the right direction, thereby indicating that the students
had internalized the basic tenets of figurative language comprehension and applied
them to the best of their knowledge.
In a follow-up activity the teacher explained the correct answers, sparking a
discussion of different animals and the possible metaphors that could stem from
their names.
5. Animal metaphors guided practice
Over the following week, the students completed another exercise with
metaphorical input consisting of animal names, this time guided by their teacher.
She wrote the following adjectives on the board: catty, cocky, mousy, mulish, owlish,
sheepish, and asked them what human characteristics or types of behaviour they
described. Most of the students gave similar answers, explaining that they had relied
on the most prominent characteristics of the animals in question as well as on
familiar stereotypes:
catty seductive or secretive woman
cocky over-confident man
mousy easily scared person
mulish stubborn person
owlish someone who likes to read and study
sheepish stupid, timid or meek person
After a short discussion the students were given the task in Box 2, in which
they had to connect these adjectives with the given sentences.
a. My brothers one of those people who simply refuses to change his plans or his
attitude for anyone else. Stubborn? Yes. Unreasonable? Definitely. __________
b. He had a faintly professorial look to him with his round, intelligent face, horn-rimmed
glasses and serious expression. __________
c. He annoys all the staff, because for a trainee hes too confident about his own
abilities, and as result frequently unpleasant and rude. __________
d. Ive no time for her because she often makes spiteful remarks to other people, which
are intended to hurt them. __________
e. I must have looked a bit uncomfortable, because I felt rather foolish after doing
something as silly as that! __________
f. She was a shy, quiet and attractive woman who was dominated by her elderly mother.
__________
Box 2: Sentences with adjectives derived from animal names
311
This exercise was very easy for the students. They explained that all of their
expectations regarding the meanings of adjectives were realized, which again can be
explained by the fact that they used appropriate query routines.
The follow-up activity, meant to reinforce the material covered, consisted of
short dialogues which the students acted out. They were supposed to use the
adjectives from the exercise to describe or characterize someone they knew. The
underlying assumption was that the personalization and humour achieved in this task
would make this activity funny and entertaining, ultimately working on the affective
level and increasing student receptivity to new information, words and meanings.
6. Conclusion
The exercises presented in this paper, with the accompanying student reactions
and answers, illustrate the success of the inductive approach and discovery learning.
The students from the experimental group relied on their own previous world
knowledge and experience with animals, their behaviour, appearance and relation to
people; and they also employed a variety of query routines which they had been
implicitly taught throughout one academic year. This resulted in an increased level
of vocabulary knowledge and their ability to tackle metaphorical meanings in
English as a foreign lanugage. The students in the control group, on the other hand,
did not show any significant progress in terms of the comprehension of metaphorical
vocabulary.
Although such an approach requires greater effort from both teacher and
students, it proves more successful in the long term, with the effort invested
ensuring longer retention of the learned material and aiding vocabulary acquisition,
comprehension and, ultimately, production. Furthermore, it can be applied not just
to the field of vocabulary acquisiton per se, but also to other areas in foreign
language teaching, such as the use of prepositions, articles, tenses, modal verbs, etc.
All of these areas present potential for further research of how applied cognitive
linguistics may enhance the learning process and shed new light on some of the
greatest problems that EFL students face in the classroom today.
References
Barcelona, A. (1998). The state of the art in the cognitive theory of metaphor and
metonymy and its application to English studies. The European English
Messenger 7/2: 45-50.
Boers, F. (2000). Metaphor Awareness and Vocabulary Retention. Applied
Linguistics 21/4: 553-571.
Eisner, E. W. (1991). The Enlightened Eye. Qualitative Inquiry and the
Enhancement of Educational Practice. New York: Macmillan Publishing.
312
Halupka, S. and Radi, B. (2003). Animal names used in addressing people in
Serbian. Journal of Pragmatics 35: 1891-1902.
Lazar, G. (1996). Using Figurative Language to Expand Students Vocabulary.
ELT Journal 50/1: 43-51.
Lincoln, Y.S. and Guba, E.G. (1985). Naturalistic Inquiry. Thousand Oaks: Sage
Publications.
Littlemore, J. (2001). Metaphoric Intelligence and Foreign Language Learning.
Humanizing language teaching 3.2. Available at: http://www.hltmag.co.uk/
mar01/mart1.htm. Retrieved on: 20 June 2006.
Littlemore, J. (2004). What Kind of Training is Required to Help Language
Students Use Metaphor-Based Strategies to Work Out the Meaning of New
Vocabulary? D.E.L.T.A. 20/2: 265-279.
Littlemore, J. and Low, G. (2006). Figurative Thinking and Foreign Language
Learning. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.
Martsa, S. (1999). On exploring the conceptual structure of folk knowledge: The
case of animal terms. Linguistica e Filologia 9: 73-87.
Patton, M. Q. (2002). Qualitative Research and Evaluation Methods. Thousand
Oaks, London, New Delhi: Sage Publications.
Prodanovi-Stanki, D. (2008). ivotinje u poslovicama na engleskom i srpskom
jeziku. Beograd: Zadubina Andrejevi.
Richards, K. (2003). Qualitative Inquiry in TESOL. Houndmills: Palgrave
Macmillan.
Tullis Owen, J.A. (2008). Naturalistic Inquiry. The Sage Encyclopedia of
Qualitative Research Methods. Thousand Oaks: SAGE Publications. Available
at: http://www.sage-ereference.com/research/Article_n280.html. Retrieved on:
7 December 2008.
Wierzbicka, A. (1985). Lexicography and conceptual analysis. Karoma: Ann Arbor.
313
Nadeda Silaki
Belgrade, Serbia
[email protected]
CLIMBING THE CORPORATE LADDER OR BEING STUCK ON THE
MOMMY TRACK CAREER METAPHORS IN ENGLISH
1
Abstract The paper is set within the theoretical framework of Conceptual Metaphor
Theory as initiated by Lakoff and Johnson (1980) and later modified to better
accommodate metaphors that occur in authentic discourse, as well as that of Critical
Metaphor Analysis (Charteris-Black 2004), whose main tenet is that discourse
constructs the world from a particular perspective and that it is closely linked to
cognition. The main aim of the paper is to offer insight into the metaphors used for
the conceptualisation of CAREER in English. We classify and exemplify the CAREER
metaphors, also dealing with the differences between the ways male and female
careers are conceptualised in the culture determined by the English language.
Finally, we point out that metaphors, due to their ability to be used as powerful
persuasive devices, may have an important role in constraining womens career
thinking to potentially damaging stereotypes.
Key words: Conceptual metaphor, CAREER metaphors, Critical Metaphor Analysis,
gendered metaphors.
1. Introduction
Careers are abstract and complex phenomena and their conceptualisation
frequently requires framing in vivid and more familiar metaphorical terms, which on
the one hand, may assist in the cognitive structuring of this important concept in our
lives, while, on the other hand, may also constrain our career thinking. Our aim in
this paper is to classify and exemplify the CAREER metaphors in English, particularly
emphasising the differences between the ways male and female careers are
conceptualised in the culture determined by the English language, and pointing out
that metaphors, due to their ability to be used as powerful persuasive devices, may
have an important role in the structuring of the womens perceived place in todays
society and in constraining womens career thinking to potentially damaging
stereotypes. We believe that the mere fact that there are special metaphors for
1
The paper is the result of research conducted within project no. 178002 Languages and
cultures across space and time funded by the Ministry of Science and Technological Development of
the Republic of Serbia.
314
womens careers, as opposed to those of men, may reveal ideologies subtly hidden
behind the metaphorical veil.
In the paper we combine two theoretical frameworks Conceptual Metaphor
Theory, as developed by Lakoff and Johnson (1980) but later modified to better
accommodate metaphors that occur in authentic discourse (e.g. Semino 2008;
Deignan 2005), and Critical Metaphor Analysis (Charteris-Black 2004), a version of
Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA) which draws heavily not only on the main
insights of CDA but also on the cognitive theory of metaphor. According to the
proponents of Conceptual Metaphor Theory, conceptual metaphor refers to the
understanding of one, usually abstract and less structured, concept, expressed by the
target conceptual domain, in terms of another, more physical and more easily
comprehensible concept, expressed by the source conceptual domain. In their
seminal work Metaphors we live by, Lakoff and Johnson (1980) suggest that
metaphors are much more than a mere rhetorical or poetic device used for decorative
purposes, but that they are pervasive throughout everyday language. They structure
the way we think and act, not only the way we talk therefore, metaphor is a matter
of mind, not only and not predominantly that of language. This claim is a radical
shift from previous traditional approaches to metaphor, which stated that the main
role metaphor plays in a text is ornamental.
This main tenet of Conceptual Metaphor Theory that metaphors shape the
way we not only talk but think and even act as well provides the basis for a view
according to which metaphors play a vital role in cultivating and reinforcing
ideologies. As Deignan (2005: 23) claims, [t]he case for metaphor as ideological is
developed from the observation that the interpretation of situations and events
presented by any metaphor is only partial, and therefore flawed, which stems from
the principle of metaphorical highlighting (Kvecses 2002), according to which the
metaphorical source domain focuses on a single aspect of the concept, while at the
same time hides some other aspects of the concept. This allows for metaphor to
serve as a potentially ideological tool, presenting a particular interpretation of
situations and events (Deignan 2005: 23), desired by their creators. Moreover,
metaphors often distort because they are over-simplifications (Deignan 2005: 23),
since target domains are much more complex than they are presented by means of
source domains, thus suggesting an artificially simple understanding (Deignan
2005: 23) of concepts. Being among our principal vehicles of understanding,
metaphors play a central role in the construction of social and political reality
(Lakoff & Johnson 1980: 159). Charteris-Black (2004: 21), the originator of Critical
Metaphor Analysis, argues that metaphor, viewed as a blend of semantic, cognitive
and pragmatic dimensions, serves the purpose of influencing opinions and
judgements by persuasion (Charteris-Black 2004: 21). Since most metaphors are
rarely void of any evaluative stance, they are charged with an ideological
component, which reflects a bias on the part of a speech community towards other
groups of peoples, mores, situations and events (Lpez Rodrguez 2007: 18). This
is why metaphors are regarded in this paper as, among other things, carriers of
315
ideology, when they serve as powerful tools of either presenting the reality in the
desired manner or of distorting the picture of the reality we live in.
2. Data collection and methodology
The data collection for our analysis has been gathered by means of an Internet
search. Namely, we collected a number of texts in English published on web sites
giving advice on the most appropriate ways of choosing and managing someones
career, in order to establish how these texts make sense of and conceptualise the
abstract concept of career. The texts obtained in this way were extracted and
compiled in one Word file, totalling around 85,000 words. The research then
proceeded in the following way: the texts were read carefully in order to manually
search for and identify those metaphorical expressions which we intuitively felt
provided instantiations of CAREER metaphors. We then applied the metaphor
identification procedure (MIP) proposed by the Pragglejaz Group (2007) in order to
check the metaphoricity of the lexical units relating to various CAREER metaphors as
well as to establish their contextual and basic meaning. MIP is claimed to be a
reliable method as it eliminates any subjective criteria for metaphor identification.
Having established the presence of metaphoricity, we then extracted the parts
(sentences, parts of sentences or titles of texts) containing those expressions which
we judged to be metaphorical. Some of these sentences will be used to illustrate our
points in the analysis that follows. Finally, we classified the data according to the
source domains found to structure the target domain CAREER, which will be
discussed in the text which follows. This paper may hopefully offer a deeper
understanding of career discourse as well as some critical observations which may
help to metaphorically better structure womens careers.
3. Conceptualisations of career
According to Kvecses (2002: 127), career as an abstract and intangible
concept is a target domain in the process of metaphorisation which fits nicely into
the concept of (ABSTRACT) COMPLEX SYSTEMS, whose major properties include the
function, stability, development, and condition of the system. This in turn causes the
use of source domains which best metaphorically structure these properties. In the
following sections we focus on three main ways careers, understood as abstract
complex system, are conceptualised in our data collection.
2
2
In addition to those which will be discussed here, careers have been found in our data collection
to be structured by a number of other source domains (e.g. as a race, a dream, a sports competition, a
valuable possession, etc.). Due to a space constraint, however, only the most frequent source domains
will be the focus of the paper.
316
3.1. Career as a plant
According to Kvecses (2002: 98), complex abstract systems, among which
this author also sorts out career, are frequently structured in terms of a plant, giving
rise to the COMPLEX ABSTRACT SYSTEMS ARE PLANTS metaphor, based on a small
number of constituent mappings, such as TO START OR CREATE A COMPLEX SYSTEM
IS TO SOW A SEED, THE QUICK DEVELOPMENT OF A LARGE NUMBER OF THINGS IS
THE QUICK GROWTH OF A LARGE NUMBER OF SHOOTS OR LEAVES, THE INITIAL
STAGES OF DEVELOPMENT ARE THE BEGINNINGS OF GROWTH, TO MAINTAIN OR
TAKE CARE OF A COMPLEX SYSTEM IS TO CULTIVATE A PLANT, THE BENEFICIAL
CONSEQUENCES OF A PROCESS ARE THE FRUITS OR THE CROP OF A PLANT, etc.
(Kvecses (2002: 100-101). The CAREER IS A PLANT metaphor highlights the
development of our careers, i.e. the natural growth of a plant, stemming from the
overarching ABSTRACT DEVELOPMENT OR PROGRESS IS NATURAL PHYSICAL
GROWTH metaphor. Thus, in the career perceived of as a plant, a plant lends itself
well to describing a careers life cycle as going through a plants life cycle. This
metaphor rests on everyday knowledge that we as ordinary people (as opposed to
experts such as biologists) have about plants (Kvecses (2002: 101), which is
mapped onto the target domain career. Here are some examples of metaphorical
expressions which illustrate the CAREER IS A PLANT metaphor:
1. If you want to build a strong, integrated network of contacts and friends,
you must begin planting the seeds of your career now.
2. Efficiency with high quality results is a great combination to add more
seeds to sprout your career.
3. For any plant to grow, it needs water. In the same way, your talents and
skills need to be nourished.
4. If you want a job tomorrow, cultivate your career today.
5. Pregnancy may put a budding career at risk.
6. Remember that more than one promising career has been nipped in the bud.
7. What are the main branches of careers you can choose from?
8. A gardener will prune a tree to produce a strong, healthy, attractive plant.
Here are a few tips (...) to help grow your career.
9. Youll find plenty of tips, techniques, tools, and resources that will help
you to build a fruitful career.
10. Follow these guidelines and reap the fruits of a well-managed career.
Career as a target domain is characterised by an inherent structure that
includes an element of development (Deignan 2005: 175). Consequently, the most
important mapping present in the CAREER IS A PLANT metaphor is the one which
refers to the best stage in the progress or development of someones career, the
flowering of a plant, as illustrated by the following examples from our data
collection:
11. Make a lucrative and flourishing career for yourself by helping others
choose a successful and productive professional life.
317
12. So if you want you career to blossom, you may have to just take a deep
breath and go for it.
Thus, the flowering of a plant, when mapped onto career, connotes the best
stage in its progress or development, connoting professional success and
achievement, whereas the general CAREER IS A PLANT metaphor highlights the
development of someones career, highlighting the stages in the process. At the
same time, this metaphor emphasises the controlling and disciplining capacities of
the gardener or manager (El-Sawad 2005: 29), who takes an active role in and is
able to control the growth and cultivate the plant, making it grow, blossom and
flourish by means of their own efforts, skills and achievements. Moreover, some
negative career images may be conjured by the CAREER IS A PLANT metaphor, such
as pruning or cutting back, which serve to metaphorically structure the stunting of a
career-as-a-plant growth. Also, a plant may whither despite the care and
nourishment (e.g. due to bad weather or some other external factors beyond human
control). Similarly, the CAREER IS A PLANT metaphor downplays the importance of
other factors (attitudinal or organisational) which may hinder the growth of
someones career, such as the working environment, gender bias and stereotyping,
etc.
3.2. Career as a building
At a lower level of conceptualisation (a higher one being realised via the
ABSTRACT COMPLEX SYSTEMS metaphor) careers turn out to be frequently
conceptualised by means of the BUILDING metaphor, which emphasises the stability
of the system. In the CAREER IS A BUILDING metaphor, as Kvecses (2002: 131)
claims, [t]he main theme, or meaning focus, [...] seems to be the creation of a well-
structured and stable or lasting complex system, whereas three interrelated aspects
of buildings this metaphor highlights are its construction, structure and strength.
The mapping which characterises the CAREER IS A BUILDING metaphor is
CREATING A WELL-STRUCTURED AND LASTING CAREER IS MAKING A WELL-
STRUCTURED, STRONG BUILDING, which consists of several conceptual mappings,
such as CREATING A CAREER IS BUILDING, THE STRUCTURE OF A CAREER IS THE
PHYSICAL STRUCTURE OF A BUILDING, and A LASTING CAREER IS A STRONG
BUILDING. We shall illustrate these mappings with several examples from our data
collection:
13. Like a house, in order to build your future career, you need the right
foundation.
14. Remember that your qualification is the absolute bedrock of your career.
15. A career structure is an important part of a satisfying career so set some
goals and plan ahead.
16. Not only are these moves a great way to expand your experience, but also
lay the foundation for incredible career growth.
318
17. To build a strong career foundation you may have to accept a first job with
heavy travel or other features that people sometimes find unpleasant.
18. How to build a strong career in HR
19. I felt my career was in ruins.
According to Inkson (2004: 101), the CAREER IS A BUILDING metaphor
emphasize[s] the role of the individual in creating his or her own career as well as
the role of career planning, which is likened to a well-thought out process of
building a house, with a number of preconditions which must be fulfilled (such as
information gathering, goal setting, logical and rational choices, etc.) before the
actual structure is built. In using the CAREER IS A BUILDING metaphor, we stress the
process of designing, planning, and building, conceptualising ourselves as
ingenious, apt and hard-working architects and masons, able to lay the foundation,
design and build the structure of our careers. What this metaphor seems to hide, in
line with the principle of metaphorical highlighting and hiding (Kvecses 2002), is
the role of external factors which may seriously constrain and even block the
building of our imagined career structure.
3.3. Career as a journey
Building and travelling are conceptually related
3
, as they are both activities in
which progress takes place in stages towards a predetermined goal. (Charteris-
Black 2004: 95). As Deignan claims (2005: 17), [m]ajor life events are talked about
as landmarks along a journey, and developments in someones career or personal life
are talked about as physical progress towards a destination. Since it has become an
essentially unquestioned assumption that career is a valuable possession and its
pursuit a worthwhile activity (El-Sawad 2005: 35), it should come as no surprise
that the JOURNEY source domain fits well into the metaphorical structuring of a
career. The CAREER IS A JOURNEY
4
metaphor rests on the conceptually higher
PURPOSEFUL ACTIVITIES ARE JOURNEYS metaphor, inheriting its basic structure of
the even higher-order JOURNEY metaphor, which in turn is embedded in the
SOURCE-PATH-GOAL image schema. Lakoff (1993) claims that the CAREER IS A
JOURNEY metaphor rests on the EVENT STRUCTURE metaphor, in which purposes are
destinations and purposeful action is self-propelled motion toward a destination. As
3
This is clearly made manifest in several metaphorical expressions which tend to co-occur in the
same sentence, drawing from the source domains of BUILDING and JOURNEY, e.g. building the
foundations of fast tracking; smart moves can open new, fast-track career doors; building your career
path; etc. Other source domains may also be combined in the same sentence, e.g. How career training
helps in building a flourishing career; etc.
4
Interestingly, the word career is derived from the Latin word carraria meaning a road or
carriageway (Online Etymology Dictionary), conceptually and semantically related to the concept of
journey, which may partly explain the widespread use of the JOURNEY metaphor in career
conceptualisations.
319
purposes are conventionally constructed as destinations to be reached [...] actions
and strategies aimed at the achievement of goals are conventionally constructed in
terms of movement forwards or travel (Semino 2008: 109). Arguing that because
STATUS IS UP, a career is actually a journey upward and career goals are special
cases of life goals, Lakoff proceeds to say that in the CAREER IS A JOURNEY
metaphor, a careerist is conceptualised as a traveller who strives towards the
achievement of career goals, aiming to go as high, far and fast as possible, as
illustrated by the following examples: He clawed his way to the top; Hes over the
hill; Shes on the fast track; Hes climbing the corporate ladder; Shes moving up in
the ranks quickly. (Lakoff 1992).
The CAREER IS A JOURNEY metaphor, therefore, is based on the assumption
that we want to attain a predetermined end. (Charteris-Black 2004: 93). It is replete
with metaphorical expressions linguistically realising it, among which the most
obvious is career path, which highlights a planned, logical progression through a
career and charts a course of someones professional life. However, this may not and
frequently is not a straight line from point A to point B. Career paths may be of
several types (implying vertical, horizontal, sideways, zigzag, or even backwards
movement
5
). As Inkson (2008: 5) claims, [a] journey can be a drive along a fixed
route to a predetermined destination, or a wander in the jungle by a traveller who has
no idea where she is. As far as the speed of travelling is concerned, a career journey
can be a slow, sure walk or a swift erratic flight. It can be physical and therefore
observable to others the objective career or a projection of imagination known
only of the traveller the subjective career. (Inkson 2008: 5). IThe CAREER IS A
JOURNEY metaphor gives rise to a number of conceptual mappings, linguistically
instantiated by various metaphorical expressions. Let us illustrate only several from
our data collection:
20. Every career path, at some stage or another, reaches a crossroads. If the
decision and timing is under your control, your new direction is clear or
can be made so by talking to friends or colleagues.
21. These items are your road map to finding the career path thats right for
you
22. Defining your career goals will help you make necessary steps toward a
satisfying work life.
23. As you move on in your career you need to build leadership skills at every
opportunity you can get.
24. One final thing to consider is that your career goals should evolve as you
move through your career.
25. The point is, the clear route is not always the most productive one.
26. Still, making a decision and following a set pathway leading to the outcome
is not as easy as you might think.
5
As instantiated by the following metaphorical expressions: a rollercoaster career, career lattice,
a career plateau, career shifters, a boundaryless career, a protean career, backtrackers, plateauers, etc.
320
27. Is your career heading in the right direction?
28. Most people dont think about another career until they reach the end of
their career path.
In the CAREER IS A JOURNEY METAPHOR, people (careerists) are perceived of as
travellers along the path, who strive to hopefully reach a defined and predetermined
destination. However, particularly important in the conceptualisation of a career as a
journey are notions of vertical mobility. Thus, the metaphor A CAREER IS AN
UPWARD JOURNEY is cognitively intertwined with spatial metaphors MORE IS UP and
STATUS IS UP (or ACHIEVEMENT/SUCCESS IS HIGH [Goatley 2006: 26]), since to
acquire a socially higher position is comprehended as upward physical movement in
the course of a journey. (Kvecses (2002: 214). The CAREER IS AN UPWARD
JOURNEY metaphor may be illustrated by the following examples from our data
collection:
29. How to work your way up the corporate ladder
30. Getting to the peak of your career
31. 12 Steps for Climbing to the Top of Your Career
32. Whether you are job searching or you are at the height of your career,
here are five ways to electrify your personal brand.
33. On the other hand, if your vision is to rise through the ranks with your
current employer...
34. Personal Principles: What It Takes to Rise to The Top
35. The career plan is designed to easily move up in the ranks, making it easy
to achieve success
36. Career planning is for core people as well as high flyers.
37. Career a wider phrase thn shifting upwards n th hierarchy f positions
n an organization.
Therefore, despite the fact that career paths may not be linear and may
purposefully be chosen in such a way as to suit the needs of a particular person, as
well as the fact that some people deliberately choose not to climb the career ladder
(the so-called backtrackers or plateauers), the upward journey still most frequently
structures a successful career, because STATUS IS UP.
4. Gendered CAREER metaphors
One of the mappings of the CAREER IS A JOURNEY metaphor is that the
difficulties one comes across trying to reach the desired career goal, which block
ones upward journey towards the desired metaphorical destination, are understood
as impediments to travel (see Lakoff 1993: 224). This mapping may be linguistically
instantiated by the following examples:
38. To be successful in changing career paths, you need to learn to overcome
obstacles you will encounter along the way.
39. The IT Career Path: A Dead End Or An Avenue To The Exec Suite?
40. Avoiding Dead End Career Paths
321
The obstacles that people come across on their career paths, however, seem to
be much more serious when it comes to women than to their male colleagues. Thus a
number of gendered metaphorical expressions belonging to the CAREER IS AN
UPWARD JOURNEY metaphor suggest that the female career journey is much more
burdened with obstacles and barriers compared to that of men. For example, the
glass ceiling metaphor, depicting the invisible barrier that women experience in
their upward career mobility which prevents them from reaching the top of an
organization (Draulans 2003: 66), is subtly intertwined with the corporate ladder
metaphor. Women, similarly to men, climb the corporate ladder in order to reach a
desired destination, but in ascending the hierarchy of an organisation or company,
they are frequently confronted with often extremely stringent requirements for
promotion, which prevents them from being appointed to senior positions. The
metaphor of the glass ceiling
6
conveys the idea that although women can see the
opportunities and positions at the higher levels of the organisational hierarchy, there
is a barrier denying them access to these positions. Therefore, while trying to ascend
the corporate ladder, women face a transparent yet real limit which prescribes how
far they can climb, as implied by the word ceiling, the metaphorical end of their
upward career journey.
7
Similarly, right from the start of their metaphorical upward journey, which
begins from the lowest corporate levels, women are often faced with a sticky floor,
a metaphor which depicts unglamorous, low-paid and low upward mobility
clerical jobs with limited opportunities for advancement, where women experience
career stagnation and where their ability to perform well at senior positions is
questioned, which particularly refers to those women with children or caring
responsibilities. The sticky floor even prevents the beginning of a female career
journey, hindering womens attempts to move out of certain low-level positions.
Even if they do try to reach the top-management positions, i.e. the top of the
corporate ladder, women often get stuck on the middle rungs of the ladder due to a
sticky ladder. The sticky ladder metaphor again refers to latent barriers originating
from deep-seated gender bias and stereotypical assumptions that men are leaders
and women are followers, still persisting in many English-speaking countries.
Gender-based discrimination at work place is further linguistically (and
conceptually) instantiated by the glass elevator (alternatively called glass escalator)
metaphor, which captures the view according to which there is an invisible vehicle
(escalator or elevator) which transports men working in traditionally female
professions up through the ranks of corporate power at the expense of women. This
metaphor highlights the view that it should be embarrassing for men to do female,
low-level low-paid jobs, so that they are encouraged (and pressurised) to quickly
move up to managerial positions.
6
The corresponding expressions metaphorically depicting career barriers for minorities in
English-speaking countries are e.g. bamboo ceiling, concrete ceiling, and ivory ceiling.
7
Glass walls is another gendered metaphor used to describe the situation in which a woman is
prevented from moving laterally within an organisation.
322
Another extension of the glass ceiling metaphor is glass cliff. This metaphor,
grounded in the conceptually higher CAREER IS AN UPWARD JOURNEY metaphor,
refers to a situation which some women who dare to break through the glass ceiling
and take on positions of leadership encounter they are promoted into risky,
precarious and insecure positions, where a risk of failure, leading to a professional
disaster, is much higher. Cliffs are high (metaphorically implying that women are
allowed to reach the top management positions) but very steep and slippery
(metaphorically implying that they are put in a position of constant teetering on the
edge, where any wrong, inattentive or imprudent move may result in a catastrophic
and fatal fall).
The expression fast track in the physical world was used to refer to a railroad
track reserved for express trains or a track in horse racing. If they travel the fast
track, it takes passengers (or horses) much less time to reach their destination.
Metaphorically speaking, however, and when applied to the concept of career, a fast
track now refers to the quickest and most direct route to the achievement of a career
or a life goal, as exemplified by the following examples:
41. What can you do to get on the fast track of career advancement?
42. Take every opportunity to improve yourself, increase your skills and
knowledge, and demonstrate your work ethic and ambition and you will be
on the fast track to success.
43. Nine tips to get on the career fast track
Its antipode, however, is applied only to women only female employees may
take the mommy track, which is supposed to be a career route determined by work
arrangements offering mothers certain benefits such as flexible hours, but may
seriously reduce their chances of career advancement. Women frequently get stuck
on the slower moving mommy track, characterised by low pay and low career
prospects, which implies that the apparently advantageous treatment of women who
must juggle work and family and parental responsibilities turns out to be an
impediment on female career path, reducing womens pay after giving birth so that it
never recovers after the mommy track stage in their career development has passed.
Here are some examples:
44. Subtle ways to help avoid the mommy track
45. In the end, whether the mommy track is a positive or negative path
depends on you
46. Avoiding the Mommy Track: Returning to a Career After Maternity Leave
47. Many part time mothers complain about being stuck on the mummy track
and overlooked for promotions
These metaphors may suggest that the career journey is much more difficult for
women compared to that of men, as well as that the travel along the chosen path
may not be the result of a deliberate decision (Semino 2008: 112), but an activity
which is imposed by power elites in organisations and companies. The existence of
the above metaphors, characterised by deeply ingrained gender stereotypes, may
323
serve as evidence that a certain stigma is placed on women after they give birth to a
child, when they are perceived of as lacking commitment necessary to maintain their
competitive edge in the workplace, which in turn may seriously hamper their career
progression.
5. Conclusion
Our analysis has shown that the abstract concept career is mainly
conceptualised via three most common source domains: BUILDING and PLANT, which
are mainly gender-neutral, and JOURNEY, which lends itself to a number of gendered
metaphors, implying that women are not allowed to reach the top, or that their
upward career journey may be hampered by factors beyond their control. Since the
proponents of Conceptual Metaphor Theory claim that metaphor structures our
everyday knowledge, it follows that frequently-used conceptual metaphors will
help to organize the everyday knowledge of large numbers of people (Deignan
2005: 24). Eventually, as we are thus forced to focus only on those aspects of our
experience that [metaphor] highlights, [it] leads us to view the entailments of the
metaphor as being true. (Lakoff & Johnson 1980: 157). The main issue, however,
is not the truth or falsity of a metaphor but the perceptions and inferences that
follow from it and the actions that are sanctioned by it, since we define our reality
in terms of metaphors and then proceed to act on the basis of the metaphors.
(Lakoff & Johnson 1980: 158).
Therefore, if female careers are perceived of as different from those of men,
through metaphors which reinforce the view according to which women are
incapable of committing themselves to serious and demanding managerial positions
due to their family commitments and the need for combining careers and
motherhood, which in turn may reduce their chances of career opportunities and
advancement, then this may not only disrupt womens perceptions and thoughts
about themselves, but also detrimentally affect their career progression, thus
perpetuating ingrained stereotypes and gender inferiority. The existence of special
metaphors for womens careers may reinforce and perpetuate socially and culturally
imposed thinking that women are forced to choose such working arrangements
which will not conflict with their primary responsibility to their children, while at
the same time, these metaphors may function, to quote Lakoff and Johnson, as self-
fulfilling prophecies (1980: 156).
Namely, metaphors may create realities for us and serve as a guide for
future action (1980: 156). The creation of a new reality happens when we start to
comprehend our experience in terms of a metaphor, and it becomes a deeper reality
when we begin to act in terms of it (Lakoff & Johnson 1980: 145). This means, in
line with Lakoff and Johnsons main idea, that metaphors artificially impose the way
we think about womens careers. Of course, words alone dont change reality. But
changes in our conceptual system do change what is real for us and affect how we
perceive the world and act upon those perceptions. (Lakoff & Johnson 1980:145-
324
146). According to such a constructivist view of metaphor, metaphor builds our
conceptual system, shapes our everyday experience and structures our world view. It
is, therefore, of the utmost importance to introduce new metaphors which will help
remove any bias, prejudice and stereotypical thinking about mens and womens
careers alike and eliminate any unacceptable and distortive cognitive framing. We
argue that the discrimination that still exists against women in the workplace will be
hard to remove if, among other things, discriminatory metaphors still persevere and
constrain career thinking.
References
Charteris-Black, J. (2004). Corpus Approaches to Critical Metaphor Analysis.
Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Deignan, Al (2005). Metaphor and Corpus Linguistics. Amsterdam/Philadelphia:
John Benjamins Publishing Company.
Draulans, V. (2003). The Glass Ceiling: Reality or Myth? A Gender Analysis of
Leadership. Ethical Perspectives 10/1: 66-79.
El-Sawad, Amal (2005). Becoming a lifer? Unlocking career through metaphor.
Journal of Occupational and Organizational Psychology, 78: 2341.
Goatley, A. (2006). Ideology and metaphor. English Today 87, Vol. 22(3): 25-39.
Inkson, K. (2004). Images of career: Nine key metaphors. Journal of Vocational
Behavior 65: 96111.
Inkson, K. (2008). The use of metaphor in work with careers. A keynote lecture
given at the Second International Conference on Careers Research and Practice
(ICCRP 2008) Royal Tropical Institute, Amsterdam, Wednesday March 12
2008. Available at: http://www.nsvp.nl/sites/nsvp.nl/files/news_files/kerr_
inskson.pdf. Retrieved on: 15 July 2010.
Kvecses, Z. (2002). Metaphor. A Practical Introduction. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Lakoff, G. (1993). Contemporary theory of metaphor. In: A. Ortony (ed). Metaphor
and Thought (2nd Ed.). New York and Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 202-251.
Lakoff, G. and Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: The University
of Chicago Press.
Lpez Rodrguez, I. (2007). The representation of women in teenage and womens
magazines: Recurring metaphors in English. Estudios Ingleses de la
Universidad Complutense 15: 15-42.
Pragglejaz Group (2007). MIP: A method for identifying metaphorically used words
in discourse. Metaphor and Symbol 22(1), 139.
Semino, E. (2008). Metaphor in Discourse. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
325
Online sources:
http://www.theoxfordprogram.com/freeresources/articles/hierarchyofneeds.asp
http://www.ptilearningandperformance.com/personal/
http://www.careercrossroads.net
www.careerpath.com
http://www.careerstr8talk.com/2010/07/29/career-detour-keeping-yourself-
open-to-a-variety-of-careers/
http://www.careermanagement.com/
www.careers-in-finance.com
http://www.your-career-change.com/help.html
http://www.careeroutlook.in/
http://www.free-daily-motivational-self-improvement.com/avoid-these-
personal-habits-that-can-ruin-your-career.html
http://www.howtostartabusiness.ws/career-counseling-business.php
www.careerplanner.com
http://www.iseek.org/careers/careergoals.html
http://career-advice.careerone.com.au
www.professionalcareersolutions.com
www.careertrees.org
www.career-success-for-newbies.com
326
Duan Stamenkovi
Ni, Serbia
[email protected]
VERBS AND PROTOTYPE THEORY: STATE OF THE ART AND
POSSIBILITIES
1
Abstract This paper investigates some of the possibilities of applying Prototype
Theory to the categorization of English verbs. Throughout its development,
Prototype Theory has been mainly focused on nouns, adjectives and prepositions
with very few excursions into the realms of the other parts of speech. The paper will
include a short summary of the existing attempts to approach verbs from a
prototypical perspective. Using verb frequency tests, it will try to find those
semantic features of verbs that might be relevant to the process of categorization.
This will be done by means of analysing two classes of verbs and finding their
appropriate semantic features. The result of this analysis will be presented in two
columns and graphs, showing how the verbs in question are graded within their
categories.
Key words: prototype, verb, categorization, semantic features, word frequency.
1. Introduction Aims and Methodology
The paper has two main aims firstly, it should offer an overview of the
attempts to approach verbs from the perspective of Prototype Theory and, secondly,
it will try to present at least some possibilities for future studies of verbs in regard to
this perspective. Prototype Theory has so far been mostly concerned with nouns,
adjectives and prepositions, but there have also been attempts to apply Prototype
Theory to a number of verb analyses and the paper will try to present some of them.
The focus will be on the lexical aspects of verbs, whereas other verb-related features
will be mentioned only if necessary. Verbs will be viewed in relation to their
categories, two groups of verbs serving as a basis of semantic features which can be
considered responsible for a higher or a lower degree of their prototypicality.
After a short historical overview of the development of Prototype Theory, the
paper will present two major attempts to approach verbs using Prototype Theory.
1
Prepared as a part of the project Sustainability of the Identity of Serbs and National Minorities
in the Border Municipalities of Eastern and Southeastern Serbia (179013), conducted at the University
of Ni Faculty of Mechanical Engineering, and supported by the Ministry of Science and
Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia.
327
Verbs related to motion around an axis and verbs of desire, selected in accordance
with Levins English Verb Classes and Alternations (1993), will serve as two
exemplar groups. They will both undergo a word frequency test based on the data
from the Corpus of Contemporary American English (Davies, 2011) and this may
serve as a significant (though not very sensitive nor precise) indicator for verbs
prototypicality. According to the results obtained from the data, the verbs will be
classified from the most to the least prototypical one within their categories, after
which we will try to find a number of reasons for the achieved order.
2. Theoretical background
The problem of categorization seems to be central to both the old (objectivist)
and the new (experiential) view. In fact, we may isolate at least three groups of
approaches to categories: atomistic, probabilistic and exemplar (Smith and Medin,
1981; Medin and Rips, 2005). The atomistic approach largely corresponds to the
objectivist view, in which things belong to the same category in case they have
certain (objective) properties in common categories are thus verifiable and they
correspond to the real world. Concepts within objective categories are compositional
they can be broken down into smaller components of meaning. The probabilistic
approach is based on binary features, which can be either present or absent within a
concept and configurations of these features determine whether a concept can be
classified within a particular category or not. Properties within these two approaches
are called necessary and sufficient conditions for defining a category. Categories
based on necessary and sufficient conditions and/or binary features are usually
clearly bounded and their members have equal status (Taylor, 1989: 2324). In the
exemplar approach, the best representatives of a category serve as role models in
the process of categorization and this view seems to be very close to what we call
Prototype Theory (the dominant approach to categorization in the experiential view).
Although we may track the precursors of the new type of categories in Kants
claims that concepts cannot be empirically delineated and that the synthesis of our
knowledge is not arbitrary, but related to our experience (Kant, 1791: Einleitung, III,
IV, according to Antovi, 2009: 90), most contemporary semanticists designate
Wittgenstein as being the forefather of Prototype Theory. While trying to define the
term game, Wittgenstein (1953: 313) witnessed the fact that the boundaries of the
category are fuzzy and that this does not make this category less valid than some
which are less fuzzy. According to Wittgenstein, the category of games is not based
on shared defining features, as there are no attributes common to all the games in the
world, but on a criss-crossing network of similarities (Taylor, 1989: 38). In order
to illustrate this network of similarities, Wittgenstein uses the famous metaphor of
family resemblances the notion that entities thought to be connected by one
essential common feature may actually be connected by a series of overlapping
similarities, with no feature common to all of them. Wittgensteins views on
categories certainly influenced Zadehs (1965) fuzzy set theory and Lakoffs (1972)
328
early claims that category membership is not a yes-or-no question, but rather a
matter of degree. Early experiments, which confirmed these assumptions on
categories and started making differences between prototypical, less prototypical
and marginal concepts, were performed by William Labov, Willett Kempton,
Eleanor Rosch, Brent Berlin, Paul Kay, and Chad McDaniel among others.
Labovs experiments (1973) were based on line drawings of various household
receptacles, such as mugs, cups and bowls. The subjects in this experiment were to
classify the presented drawing as one of these, with a constant shift of the ratio of
width and depth. Another important aspect of their judgements were contents of
various receptacles (and thus with their functions, which can be culture-dependent).
Among other conclusions, the experiment proved that there was no clear dividing
line between cups and bowls. In his analysis of this experiment, Taylor (1989: 41)
stresses the fact that the attributes used in the study are not binary, as width and
depth can be perceived as continuous variables. Also, he notes that no single
attribute was essential for distinguishing the one category from the other. Eleanor
Roschs frequently quoted experiments (1973, 1975a, 1975b) on categorization
represent a real challenge for the classical view of categories, as she tackled very
many apparently delineated categories and proved that they are far from being
discrete in relation to reality. Her respondents were to grade memberships of
concepts within certain categories, including birds, furniture, tools, sports, fruits,
vegetables, toys, etc. Her experiments predominantly included 7-point membership
scales or response time measurement. These experiments proved that neither natural
categories (such as birds, fruits and vegetables) nor nominal kind terms (furniture,
sports or toys) have clear boundaries. Moreover, the experiments showed that we
can also talk about the degree of membership, including the notions of the centre and
the periphery of a category (although we shall not question the fact that all the
included entities had the status of being members of a certain category, be they more
or less prototypical). This method introduced the notion of prototypicality in the
sense in which it is used nowadays prototypes or exemplars are those concepts
which take central places within a category. However, it is very possible that Rosch,
Labov, Berlin and others borrowed the very term of prototypicality from
Wittgensteins Brown Book II (Vidanovi, forthcoming: 13). Nevertheless, we may
not doubt that Roschs work motivated other researchers to apply the study of
prototypes to more abstract nouns, adjectives, prepositions, verbs and other parts of
speech.
Using experimental data, as well as various previous attempts to weaken the
position of the classical view of categories, George Lakoff, in Women, Fire and
Dangerous Things (1987), framed a comprehensive overview of the new view on
categories and provided the philosophical background and possible implications of
the experientialist view. When we come to prototypicality, we encounter a number
of topics including family resemblances, centrality, polysemy as categorization,
generativity as a prototype phenomenon, membership and centrality gradience,
conceptual and functional embodiment, basic-level categorization and primacy,
reference-point, or metonymic, reasoning and other phenomena. Another broad
329
summary of the experientialist view of categories can be found in John Taylors
Linguistic Categorization (1989) besides providing an overview, Taylor applied
Prototype Theory to various aspects of language including polysemy, grammatical
categories, syntactic structures, phonology and language acquisition. Among other
things, this book includes one of the most important applications of this theory to the
analysis of verbs.
3. Verbs and prototypes
Before we analyse Taylors approach to verbs, we shall mention an earlier
attempt to view verbs as prototypical categories. Namely, in Word Meaning and
Belief, S.G. Pulman (1983: 107136) performed a very comprehensive test so as to
prove that there are aspects of verbal meaning that can be studied by means of
prototypes. He found graded membership, or more precisely prototypicality in the
categories denoted by verbs such as kill, walk, speak, look. Before doing so, he tried
to examine whether prototypical studies of verbs can fully mirror those of nouns.
Pulman set out proposing a taxonomy starting with a unique beginner and ending
with a specific verb:
Level 1 Unique beginners DO/MAKE
Level 2 Life form CAUSE/MAKE/BECOME/ACT/MOVE/SAY/
Level 3 Generic KILL/LOOK/SPEAK/WALK/DECEIVE/HOLD/
BURN/RUB
Level 4 Specific (for KILL) MURDER/ASSASSINATE/EXECUTE/
MASSACRE
(based on Pulman 1983: 108)
He, however, realized that difficulties beset the unique beginners, as well as the
life form level. For instance, it is quite difficult to decided whether DO or BE can be
considered to be hypernyms of close in John closed the door and The door was
closed. Therefore, he focused his study on the generic and the specific level,
investigating only those verbs which seemed to be organized in hyponymy sets
reminiscent of the distinction between basic and subordinate level categories
(Pulman, 1983: 109). Firstly, Pulman wanted to check whether the prototype effect
can be obtained for verbs and in order to do so he replicated Roschs original work
Pulmans subjects were asked to decide which members of a given category were
more representative of the category in question, using a 7-point scale. He selected
eight hyponymy sets: kill, speak, look, walk, deceive, rub, hold and burn and, for
each of them, he selected a range of six hyponyms to cover the largest part of the
generic verbs meanings. Some of the results that emerged from this experiment
were the following (the lower the figure, the more prototypical the verb):
kill: murder (1.10), assassinate (2.05), execute (2.82), massacre (3.28), sacrifice
(5.22), commit suicide (5.33)
speak: recite (2.57), mumble (3.46), shout (3.51), whisper (3.64), drone (3.98),
stutter (5.35)
330
walk: stride (1.86), pace (2.05), saunter (2.41), march (3.01), stumble (5.31),
limp (5.37)
(based on Pulman 1983: 113)
The respondents were asked to compare the hyponyms to the hyperordinate
term rather than to each other. Secondly, Pulman wanted to obtain more data related
to the prototype effect by performing a test which would give him some sort of a
family resemblance measure. He wanted to rate the hyponyms of the selected sets
in accordance with the number of features they share (or do not share) with other
hyponyms, i.e. other category members. The results he received were very difficult
to assess, because the responses could be classified into roughly five quite diverse
categories when asked to provide features of certain verbs, people tended to list
their synonyms (or near synonyms), attempted to give definitions, gave the category
name itself, provided connotations and, finally, offered a number of attributes which
were parallel to what Rosch used in her studies. Thirdly, Pulman edited some of the
data so as to reach better consistency in the analysis, i.e. he deleted a number of
attributes which seemed to be totally unrelated to certain verbs and added those
which seemed to be almost synonymous with the verbs in question, in the same way
Rosch removed or added a small number of unrelated features in her experiments.
The results were analysed in both their edited and unedited form and summarized in
the following way:
kill murder assassinate execute massacre sacrifice
commit
suicide
Ranked by:
1 Prototypicality 1 2 3 4 5 6
2 All attributes 1 4 6 2 5 3
3 Shared attributes 2 3 5 4 6 1
4 Edited attributes 2 1 5 4 6 3
Table 1: Pulmans result survey for kill (based on Pulman 1983: 119)
Pulman concludes that family resemblance is not positively correlated with
prototypicality, which might lead one toward thinking that family resemblance is not
a causal factor in the formation of prototypes when it comes to verbs. However,
Pulman resists such a conclusion on several grounds: he explains that the number of
selected category members in his study was too low, which led the statistical
methods he used to unreliable results. Moreover, the number of subjects was much
lower than in Roschs experiments (20 as compared to 400) and, lastly, verbs proved
to be quite delicate when it comes to listing attributes and required a more
comprehensive experimental design. On the whole, Pulman arrives at the conclusion
that verbs, just like nouns, can be regarded as more or less prominent, prototypical
or representative members of their semantic categories, but we cannot claim that to
murder belongs to the category of killing more than to execute does (which
331
seems to be the case when we analyse colour adjectives). Pulmans experiments,
though mainly aimed to be pilot studies or probes, showed us that there are aspects
of verb meaning that can be approached by means of Prototype Theory. Besides this,
we may assume that improved experimental procedures may provide more relevant
data in the future, meaning that Pulman opened a whole range of possibilities, which
seem to have not been properly explored since 1989.
The year 1989 saw another of the rare prototypical approaches to verbs. Taylor
(1989: 105109) studied prototypicality as related to the polysemy of the verb climb
in order to explain the contrast between the family resemblance approach and the
core meaning approach. The main problem of the core meaning approach stems
from the fact that it is close to the classical approach to categories, as it implicitly
demands that there is a set of necessary and sufficient conditions which govern the
existence or stability of a category. Various senses of climb prove that there is no
possibility to subsume them all under a general core sense. Taylor follows
Fillmores (1982) characterization of the process in terms of the attributes ascend
(as in The plane climbed to 30,000 feet) and clamber (as in The boy climbed
down the tree and over the wall). The clambering sense of this verb cannot be
applied to entities without limbs. Therefore, although some of the uses of the
clambering sense may seem to be close to the core meaning there are some others
connected to the ascending sense (to some of which the former sense cannot be
applied), which depart from this kind of centre. Taylor notes that these different
senses cannot be unified on the basis of a common semantic denominator [] the
different meanings are related through meaning chains (Taylor, 1989: 108). In
this way any node in a meaning chain can be the source of any number of meaning
extensions (Taylor, 1989: 109). In both Pulmans and Taylors studies we may say
that we are encountering an internal approach to verb prototypicality. They both
isolate specific verbs and discuss their polysemy in relation to their senses,
hyponyms or troponyms, with regard to various features of both generic parent
verbs and their specific subtypes. We may say that this approach can be basically
linked to semasiology. However, one can also approach these verbs
onomasiologically as well, providing the answer to the question how do you
express X?, X being any sort of meaning that verbs can denote, so it may include
vision, auditory perception, emotions, motion, various actions, etc. This approach
may be named external, as we look at the category (denoted by X) from the outside,
which sheds another sort of light onto the issue of verb categorization.
4. An analysis based on verb frequency
This part of the paper will try to examine whether we can discuss prototypical
features based on the external, onomasiological approach, using verb frequency.
Expression X is going to be represented by one of the verb classes or subclasses, as
categorized by Beth Levin in English Verb Classes and Alternations (1993). It is
quite obvious that word frequency is unlikely to serve as the only parameter in the
332
process of exploring prototypicality there are various problems stemming from
homonymy, homography, polysemy, phrasal verbs, idiomatic expressions, different
registers, word economy and etymology. In a corpus study it may be very difficult to
isolate idioms, homonyms and homographs, and prevent them from interfering with
word frequency results. On the other hand, the problems that might be related to
polysemy, different registers, phrasal verbs, the same etymological background and
word economy are partly mitigated by the fact that more prototypical verbs have
greater chances of being transferred into other domains. The very fact that the study
is based on word frequency partially limits us to the core meaning approach, but it
is very important to stress that a study based on the meaning chains approach is
more than necessary. For instance, a study of polysemy in verbs might prove that
polysemy (linked with the fact that they get transferred into another category) can
sometimes make certain verbs move towards the periphery of a category, as they are
no longer felt as firmly belonging to their original class by the subjects. When we
come to verbs, their transitive and intransitive uses may sometimes allow us to
isolate different meanings of certain verbs, but this seems to be restricted to a
number of verbs. From this, we may conclude that in any study of prototypes,
additional experiments involving respondents are highly required in order to support
any claims drawn from a corpus.
We may take a look at two classes in order to explore the ranges and
capabilities of a corpus-based study. They will be selected against the criterion of
size and in accordance with Beth Levins classification. The first group will be the
one dubbed Verbs of motion around an axis (a subtype of Verbs of motion). This
group includes the following verbs: to coil, to revolve, to rotate, to spin, to turn, to
twirl, to twist, to whirl and to wind (Levin, 1993: 2645). The used corpus and data
frequency list made no difference between homographs, homonyms and polysemous
verbs and for that reason to wind /waInd/ will be excluded from the grading
procedure due to the fact that there is no way to isolate it from to wind /wInd/. As for
the remaining eight verbs of motion around an axis, the word frequency statistics
based on Word frequency data from the Corpus of Contemporary American
English (COCA) (Davies, 2011) shows the following results:
Rank Verb Frequency Share (%)
1 to turn 230,916 88.70
2 to spin 9,399 3.61
3 to twist 8,198 3.15
4 to rotate 4,412 1.69
5 to revolve 2,560 0.98
6 to whirl 2,444 0.94
7 to twirl 1,430 0.55
8 to coil 964 0.37
Total 260,323 100.00
Table 2: Verbs of motion around an axis stats
tem
me
fea
see
If f
tha
ma
per
tha
act
mo
foll
ext
foll
Ran
1
2
3
4
5
6
E
mpo
ani
ature
e ho
freq
at m
ay c
riph
at th
in
T
ore
low
trac
low
nk
G
Even
orar
ng
es m
ow f
quen
movi
aus
hery
he in
the
The
pre
wing
ted
wing
Grap
n th
ry
co
may
feat
ncie
ing
se a
y of
nhe
sam
sec
ecis
g ve
d fro
g co
ph 1
his
me
omp
y se
ture
es r
in
a ve
f th
eren
me
con
ely
erbs
om
oncl
1: V
sc
etho
pon
eem
es c
refle
this
ery l
he c
nt le
wa
nd v
y th
s: to
the
lusi
Ver
to w
to n
to d
to c
to f
to c
Tot
Verb
ale,
od,
nent
m to
chan
ect
s di
like
cate
eng
ay
verb
he s
o co
e C
ion
rb
wan
need
desi
crav
fanc
cov
tal
bs of
, w
sh
ts.
o be
nge
at l
irec
ely
egor
gth
the
b cla
subc
ove
orp
in
nt
d
ire
ve
cy
et
f mo
whic
how
Al
e at
e fro
leas
ction
inc
ry o
and
ey i
ass
clas
t, to
pus
reg
otio
ch r
ws s
tho
tom
om
st s
n: to
crea
of v
d/or
incr
to b
ss n
o cr
of
gard
on ar
repr
som
ough
mist
the
om
o tu
ase i
verb
r co
reas
be a
nam
rave
Co
d to
Ta
roun
rese
me t
h e
tic t
e ce
me a
urn
in b
bs o
omp
se o
ana
med
e, t
nte
pro
able
nd a
ents
tend
extr
to s
entre
aspe
both
of m
plex
on t
alys
d w
to d
mp
otot
e 3: V
an a
s a
den
ract
som
e to
ects
to
h de
mo
xity
the
sed
wan
desir
pora
typi
Ver
axis
res
ncie
ting
me d
o th
of
twi
egre
tion
of
way
sho
nt v
re,
ary
ical
rbs o
(A
sult
es w
g m
deg
he p
f pro
ist
ee a
n ar
f act
y fr
ows
verb
to f
Am
lity
of d
Pos
t ac
whic
mea
gree
erip
otot
t
and
rou
tion
rom
s sim
bs
fanc
meri
le
F
desir
ssib
chie
ch
anin
e, it
phe
typi
to ro
d int
und
n de
m to
mila
(Le
cy,
ican
vel
Freq
53
28
83
re
ble P
eved
link
ng
is
ery o
ical
ota
tens
an
eno
tur
ar t
evin
to n
n E
ls:
quen
38,8
86,6
7,8
2,6
1,2
9
38,1
Prot
d b
ks
com
nev
of a
lity
te
sity
ax
ted
rn t
tend
n, 1
nee
Engl
ncy
882
620
851
631
214
983
81
totyp
by w
ver
mpo
vert
a ve
, th
t
y of
is.
d by
tow
denc
199
ed a
lish
pica
wha
rbs
one
thel
erb
hen
to re
f rot
An
y th
ward
cies
3:
and
h lea
ality
at w
fr
ents
less
cla
we
evo
tati
noth
ese
ds to
s. V
194
to w
ad u
y ch
we
requ
s o
s in
ass o
e ma
olve
on
her
e ve
o tw
Verb
4),
wan
us
hart)
ma
uen
or s
nter
or c
ay c
e
tow
ten
erbs
wirl
bs o
inc
nt.
tow
S
)
ay c
ncie
sem
esti
cate
con
to
ward
nden
s se
.
of d
clud
The
ward
Shar
1
3
call
s a
man
ing
egor
nclu
twi
ds t
ncy
em
desi
de t
e da
ds t
re (
64.
34.
0.
0.
0.
0.
100.
33
l a
and
ntic
to
ry.
ude
irl,
the
y is
to
ire,
the
ata
the
(%)
.29
.20
.94
.31
.14
.12
.00
33
pr
to
in
pe
m
ve
fr
w
hi
th
un
id
m
on
ev
pr
cl
on
sp
in
lim
to
34
rogr
o wa
nten
erip
mean
erb
equ
way
ighe
he p
nive
dea
mark
ne
vide
roto
lass
n. T
peci
ncre
mit
o the
On
ress
ant/
nsity
pher
ning
cla
uent
sim
er f
pote
ersa
tha
kedn
sm
enc
All
otyp
sific
The
ific
easin
ed i
e fa
nce
sion
/to
y an
ry.
g i
asse
tly
mila
freq
entia
ality
at f
nes
mall
e in
l t
pica
catio
e m
ve
ng
in t
act t
ag
n ba
nee
nd
On
ncr
es s
use
ar t
quen
al p
y o
freq
s o
ste
n or
thin
ality
on
ost
erbs
num
term
that
G
gain
ased
ed
com
ne m
reas
seem
ed v
to t
ncy
prot
of th
quen
r th
ep
rder
ngs
y-re
of
ge
s te
mbe
ms o
t th
Grap
n, t
d o
t
mp
may
ses
m to
verb
thos
y of
toty
hese
ncy
hat
tow
r to
co
elat
var
ner
end
er o
of u
heir
ph 2
ther
n v
to d
lex
y sa
on
o sh
bs t
se o
f us
ypic
e c
y m
thi
ward
ma
onsi
ed
riou
ral i
to
of d
use
sp
: Ve
re
verb
desi
ity
ay
the
how
ow
of n
age
calit
laim
may
s p
ds
ake
ider
pa
us c
idea
mo
dist
in s
peci
erbs
are
b di
ire
of
tha
e wa
w th
ard
nou
e th
ty o
ms
be
phen
stu
new
red
atter
clas
a is
ove
tinc
spec
ifici
s of
so
istri
f em
at th
ay f
he s
ds th
uns
han
of v
rel
e co
nom
dyi
w a
, w
rns
ses
s th
e to
tive
cifi
ity
f des
ome
ibut
to
moti
he n
from
sam
hose
an
the
verb
ated
onsi
men
ng
assu
5
we
th
of
hat
owa
e fe
ic c
ac
sire
e c
tion
cra
ion
num
m th
me m
e w
d a
e m
bs. T
d to
ider
non
ve
ump
5. C
m
hat
f ver
ge
ards
eatu
ont
tua
(A
conc
n. If
ave/
s s
mbe
he
mea
with
adje
ark
Thi
o p
red
ha
erb
ptio
Con
ay
ca
rbs
ener
s th
ures
text
ally
Pos
clus
f w
/to
eem
er o
cen
anin
sca
ectiv
ked
is p
proto
to
s cr
pro
ons.
nclu
co
an
an
ric v
he p
s as
ts ar
lim
ssib
sion
e ta
cov
m to
of s
ntre
ng
arce
ves
one
ape
oty
be
ross
otot
usio
oncl
be
nd th
ver
peri
s we
re o
mits
ble P
ns
ake
vet,
o in
sem
to
shif
er d
s
es a
er is
ypes
e th
s-li
typi
ons
lud
tr
hat
rbs
iphe
e m
on t
the
Prot
tha
a l
we
ncr
mant
the
fts
distr
unm
and
s fa
s or
he p
ngu
ical
e t
rack
thi
are
ery
mov
the
em
totyp
at m
look
e m
eas
tic
e pe
wh
ribu
ma
d thi
ar fr
r to
prim
uist
lity
that
ked
is s
e cl
ve a
per
to c
pica
mig
k at
may
e a
fea
erip
hen
utio
rke
is p
rom
o m
mar
tic i
an
t t
in
tud
lose
thi
awa
riph
cert
ality
ght
t th
onc
as w
ature
her
we
on. V
ed t
patte
m be
match
ry d
imp
nd
ther
n t
dy m
er t
s is
ay fr
hery
tain
y ch
be
he fo
ce a
we
es
ry. O
e m
Ver
term
ern
eing
h G
dete
plic
we
re
he
may
to t
s a
from
y. T
n co
hart)
e d
ollo
aga
mo
add
On
ove
rbs
ms
ref
g ab
Gree
erm
atio
ne
are
di
y be
the
cco
m th
This
onte
)
draw
owin
ain
ove
ded
the
e fr
see
see
flec
ble t
enb
mini
ons
eed
e m
stri
e ca
cen
omp
he c
is p
exts
wn
ng
say
tow
to
e wh
om
em
em
cts i
to p
berg
ing
. Th
mu
mea
ibut
arri
ntre
pani
cent
pro
, bu
fro
seq
y tha
war
th
hol
m the
to a
to
itse
pred
gs
fac
his
uch
anin
tion
ed
e, w
ied
tre.
obab
ut w
om
quen
at b
rds
he c
le, b
e m
act
hav
elf o
dict
(19
ctor
is
h m
ng
n-ba
fur
wher
by
Ve
bly
we m
the
nce
both
the
core
both
more
in a
ve a
onto
t the
966
r o
jus
more
and
ased
rthe
rea
y an
erb
due
may
e
e:
h
e
e
h
e
a
a
o
e
)
f
st
e
d
d
r
s
n
s
e
y
335
also claim that it makes them less prototypical. When we look at some other verb
classes, we may also see that obsolete or derogatory or insulting verbs are always on
the periphery, once again due to their usage limitations. Another reason for the
results we achieved might be found in the notion that the distribution of synonymous
or partly synonymous verbs tends to be dispersed. Once again, this might not be the
consequence of their being less prototypical, but the reason for their loss of
prototypicality. If all this can be replicated in other languages as well, then this study
may bring us to more important conclusions. Furthermore, the study showed that
verb frequency is an insufficient factor in studying verb prototypicality, which
means that contrastive experimental procedures involving subjects should be
performed in order to provide more details on the connection between semantic
features of verbs and their prototypicality across languages.
References
Antovi, M. (2009). Lingvistika, muzikalnost, kognicija. Ni: Niki kulturni centar.
Davies, M. (2011). Word frequency data from the Corpus of Contemporary
American English (COCA). Available at: http://www.wordfrequency.info.
Retrieved on 5 March 2011.
Fillmore, C. (1982). Frame semantics. In: Linguistic Society of Korea (eds.).
Linguistics in the Morning Calm: Seoul: Hanshin Publishing Co., 111137.
Greenberg, J. (1966). Language Universals, With Special Reference to Feature
Hierarchies. The Hague: Mouton.
Kant, I. (1781). Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Riga: Johann Friedrich Hartknoch.
Labov, W. (1973). The boundaries of words and their meanings. In: Bailey, C. and
Shuy, R. (eds.). New Ways of Analysing Variation in English. Washington:
Georgetown University Press, 340373.
Lakoff, G. (1972). Linguistics and Natural Logic. In Davidson, D. and Harman, G.
(eds.). Semantics of Natural Language. Dordrecht: Reidel Publishing Co., 545
665.
Lakoff, G. (1987). Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal
about the Mind. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Levin, B. (1993). English Verb Classes and Alternations: A Preliminary
Investigation. University of Chicago Press.
Medin, D. and Rips, L. (2005). Concepts and Categories: Memory, Meaning, and
Metaphysics. In: Holyoak, K. J. (ed.). The Cambridge Handbook of Thinking
and Reasoning. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 3772.
Pulman, S.G. (1983). Word Meaning and Belief. London: Croom Helm.
Rosch, E. (1973). On the internal structure of perceptual and semantic categories.
In: T. E. Moore (ed.). Cognitive Development and the Acquisition of Language.
New York: Academic Press, 111144.
336
Rosch, E. (1975a). Cognitive representations of semantic categories. Journal of
Experimental Psychology: General, 104: 192233.
Rosch, E. (1975b). Natural Categories. Cognitive Psychology 4: 32850.
Smith E. and Medin, D. (1981). Categories and Concepts. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press.
Taylor J. R. (1989). Linguistic Categorization: Prototypes in Linguistic Theory.
Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Wittgenstein, L. (1953). Philosophical Investigations. New York: Macmillan.
Vidanovi, . (forthcoming). Wittgenstein and the Beginning of Cognitive
Semantics. An unpublished paper. Available at SSRN: http://papers.ssrn.com/
sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1716431. Retrieved on 15 March 2011.
Zadeh, L. (1965). Fuzzy sets. Information and Control 8: 33853.
337
Violeta Stojii
Ni, Serbia
[email protected]
CONTRASTIVE VIEW OF SERBIAN AND ENGLISH COLLOCATIONS
Abstract Taking into consideration the principles of collocability within the lexical
system of a language, in the paper we propose the idea that a contrastive analysis of
collocational correspondents may be of significance in demonstrating systematic
relations between two languages in lexical patterning, not only through one-to-one
correspondence, but also through cases of contrast and difference. We have
researched into congruent and equivalent standard collocations of Serbian (L1) and
English (L2), and a sample based on dictionary data has demonstrated a twofold
contrast relation, i.e. divergent and convergent. Furthermore, some examples have
indicated that there are collocations in L1 for which no correspondent can be
authenticated in L2, thus suggesting a difference between the languages through a
collocation gap. The implications of the findings may be reconsidered within foreign
language teaching, translation and lexicography.
Key words: collocation, contrastive analysis, convergent relation, divergent
relation, collocational gap.
1. Contrastive analysis and lexical co-occurrences
The issues of contrastive lexicology have been predominantly concerned with
foreign language teaching and translation. Within language teaching, the most
frequently discussed topic is the problem of false friends, i.e. the difficulties that
arise from the superficial similarity between lexical counterparts such as
Gymnasium/gymnasium, eventuell / eventually or starten / start from German and
English (Hartmann 1973: 30). Semantically based contrastive lexicology has been
especially important in an attempt to clarify the equivalence between lexemes of the
languages contrasted, which is in Hartmanns (1973: 32) opinion a skewed
equivalence, and ranges from straightforward counterparts, like grill (En.) / grillen
(Ger.), to complete lack of equivalents, as in the case of English simmer, which has
to be rephrased in German.
A systematic description of similarities and differences between collocations of
two languages with theoretical objectives has rarely been attempted. The most
extensively explored collocational subjects are pertinent to foreign language
teaching and translation, while the focus has been on problematic cases of
correspondence or equivalence. The pedagogical research into collocations has been
carried out to aid vocabulary teaching methodology and to substantiate suppositions
338
that differences in lexical patterning between the native and foreign language may
suggest hindrances in acquiring the collocations of the latter. Nesselhauf (2003: 238-
239) states that in language teaching non-congruent collocations should receive
particular attention, because the points of differences should be clearly demarcated
in teaching. Howarth (1993: 42) notices that it is misleading to treat collocation
largely as arbitrary co-occurrences that must be learned as wholes. From what he
concludes, it seems that the quantitative approach to collocations is not dispensable,
but cannot be relied on in foreign language teaching, where the nature of the
phenomenon of collocability should be scrutinized to raise awareness of potential
problems in learners.
The objectives of contrastive studies of collocations mostly relate to the
development of collocational competence in foreign language learners. Bahnss
(1993) account of differences between German and English collocations concerns
the difficulties German learners of English may have when searching for the English
equivalent of the verbal collocate in German collocations, in instances such as Ger.
Falle stehlen Eng. *put a trap, Ger. Opfer bringen Eng. *bring sacrifice, Ger.
Versprechen halten Eng. *hold a promise, in whose translation the application of
word-for-word technique is not appropriate. He also contrasts German
('Ausgangssprache', L1) noun + verb collocations with syntactically correspondent
English ('Zielsprache', L2) verb + noun collocations, with regard to total and partial
equivalence. Total equivalence can be summarized as N
A
= N
Z
/ V
A
= V
Z
; it holds
between both nominal and verbal collocates of German and English collocations, as
in Geduld verlieren / lose patience, Gesetz brechen / break the law, Kontrolle
ausben / exercise control, Schlu ziehen / draw a conclusion, Versprechen brechen
/ break a promise. Partial equivalence is best expressed as N
A
= N
Z
/ V
A
V
Z
, when
only nominal collocates are equivalent, as in Eid brechen / violate an oath,
Kompliment machen / pay a compliment, Rede halten / make a speech.
As for Contrastive Analysis in general, orevi (1994: 56-57) stresses the
importance of deciding on the criterion on which to found the analysis, which is the
problem of comparability. The comparability criterion may rest on formal
correspondence or equivalence. We hold that the standard of equivalence is a crucial
translation concept, which, however, cannot be the ultimate comparability norm in
contrastive matters. Equivalence is not absolute or system-based, as it constitutes a
relation between the source text (ST) and the target text (TT) in a given translation
act with regard to variable translation strategies and objectives. On the other hand,
Contrastive Analysis is concerned with similarities and differences between
languages in their systems, i.e. in the abstract sense of linguistic competence. In
translation, as a manifestation of linguistic performance, in addition to systemic
facet of languages contrasted, the effect of other factors is appreciable, such as the
function of the ST and TT, or the social and cultural ambience of the translation act,
etc. The equivalence in translation may depend entirely on the content of the
message as a whole, not on the form or content of individual units. Furthermore,
translation equivalence does not always imply congruence in form, with translation
339
shifts often employed as a translation technique. Translation equivalents can be
compared on semantic grounds, but do not necessarily indicate features which
demonstrate fundamental similarities or dissimilarities in the systems.
Furthermore, in translation, dissimilarities in the systems of two languages
should be resolved to accomplish the primary objective of translation to transfer the
content or the message of the ST. In lexical terms, for example, this means that
lexical gaps, which indicate differences in the lexical systems of the two languages,
are not insuperable, since gaps are not to be incorporated into the TT. The English
neologism naked street [A STREET WITHOUT ANY CONVENTIONAL METHOD OF
CONTROLLING TRAFFIC] has no correspondent in the lexicon of Serbian. However, in
the process of translation, it would be essential to provide an adequate equivalent,
not necessarily of the same formal features, at least by employing a translation shift
from a lexical unit to a noun phrase, as in the following instance:
(1) The concept of the naked street was spearheaded by the Netherlands, where
traffic lights have been stripped from several junctions in recent years. ("Denver
Post", 2005)
(2) Koncept ulice bez signalizacije / ulice bez saobranih znakova / ulice bez
obeleavanja osmiljen je u Holandiji, gde su poslednjih godina sa nekoliko
raskrsnica uklonjeni semafori.
The relations which hold between the English lexeme naked street and the
Serbian lexical gap is system-based; the relation between the English lexeme naked
street and the Serbian noun phrase(s) ulica bez signalizacije / ulica bez saobranih
znakova / ulica bez obeleavanja in the two utterances is translation-based. The
former pair indicates differences between the two lexical systems, while the latter
pair demonstrates translational parallelism. Hence, the parameters of comparison in
translation and contrastive analysis do not seem identical. In translation,
comparability criterion involves meaning relations, i.e. equality in content
(equivalence), which may incidentally be accompanied by the equality of form
(congruence), whereas in the contrastive framework, it pertains to correspondence
which incorporates both equivalence and congruence.
Ivir (1981: 51-59) has methodically dealt with formal correspondence and
translation equivalence regarding ST and TT relations. He holds that there is a
noteworthy difference between language-based (system-based) and text-based
(equivalence-based) formal correspondents, since the former stand in a one-to-one
relationship, whereas the latter stand in a one-to-many relationship. We may add
that, unlike in system-based comparison, translation-based equivalents are not
necessarily formally correlated, as one and the same content may be realized through
various forms a unit in the ST may have several equivalents of distinct forms in
the TL. This is also argued by Ivir (1982: 51-59), in whose opinion formal
correspondents in translationally paralleled texts are never matched in totality, as
they are when contrasted as parts of the systems of the two languages.
340
2. Contrasting collocations of Serbian and English
In addressing the issue of comparability of collocations of L1 and L2, we wish
to suggest that contrastive lexicology may also assess lexical patterns of the
languages contrasted, not only isolated lexical units. In theory, the differences in
collocations of two languages have been predominantly researched through error
analysis in language teaching and within corpora of aligned parallel sentences in
translation. We believe that they may be explored contrastively to reveal not only
the (non)existence of one-to-one correspondents, but also the overall contrastive
relation between two languages in the collocational domain of their lexical systems.
Berndt (1969: 31-36) recommends that systematic contrastive analysis of a lexical
kind should not only be concerned with difficulties in establishing correspondences
or equivalence, but should work out networks of interconnections between two
language systems, which will assist developing effective methods of selection and
presentation of the lexical material in foreign language teaching, as well as improve
bilingual dictionaries. Such an approach to collocations may reveal similarities and
dissimilarities in lexical patterning and collocational restrictions at work in the two
lexicons, for descriptive purposes. Even though we are aware that the analysis
cannot be all encompassing, as it cannot cover all of the established or possible
collocations in two languages, we believe that it may give insight into universal
contrastive relations of two collocational systems, by not being restricted to one-to-
one correspondence or problematic cases of correspondence.
Collocation is a binary lexical pattern whose structure is determined by the
morphological classes of the lexemes in the pattern. Collocations are not arbitrarily
patterned chunks, since lexical patterning is regulated and conditioned by the
morpho-syntactic and semantic features of lexemes. Collocability potential is
delimited by collocation-specific constraints, i.e. collocational restrictions of an
explicit syntactic kind pertaining to the structuring of morphological classes, and of
an implicit semantic kind, deriving from the meaning of lexemes. Hence, lexical
combinatorial procedures should be viewed as standardized rather than routine.
In a sample of Serbian and English lexical collocations we have examined the
relations of contrast and difference between the languages (cf. Kurte 2006). The
study is system-based, conducted with reference to the lexical systems. The
collocational data was collected from available standard Serbian (Serbocroatian)-
English dictionaries, i.e. Hrvatsko ili srpsko-engleski enciklopedijski renik /
Croatoserbian-English Encyclopedic Dictionary (. Bujas, 1983, Grafiki zavod
Hrvatske, Zagreb) and Hrvatsko ili srpsko engleski rjenik / Croatian or Serbian-
English Dictionary (M. Drvodeli, 1970, kolska knjiga, Zagreb). The sample
studied does not involve specialized registers of language use, since collocational
patterns within terminological systems are highly restricted due to the monosemy of
established terms.
In the analysis, both formal and semantic criteria of comparability have been
involved. We have selected L1 and L2 collocations of identical structure, all binary
341
and analogous as to sequential ordering of morphological classes. As for the content
of the collocations studied, it is transparent in all instances, transparency being an
inherent semantic feature of collocations. The contrasted L1 and L2 collocations are
of equivalent content, regardless of a probable non-equivalence between individual
L1 and L2 lexemes in the sequence, as their content is built compositionally,
through the interaction of the lexemes combined. This implies that equivalent
lexemes in the two languages can have incomparable collocational ranges, which
may indicate that particular collocational content in L1 cannot be realized through
the choice of direct (dictionary) equivalents in L2, e.g. (Ser. dati Eng. give) Ser.
dati (lo/dobar) primer Eng. set an example; (Ser. namestiti Eng. set) Ser.
namestiti krevet Eng. make the bed; (Ser. gust Eng. dense) Ser. gust saobraaj
Eng. heavy traffic.
We shall here attempt to illuminate the cross linguistic relations of contrast and
difference through examples of common collocations from Serbian and English. The
contrast implies disparity in the number of collocations of equivalent content, so it
can be a) divergent, when one collocation in L1 can be correlated with two or more
congruent and equivalent collocations in L2, or b) convergent, when two or more
collocations in L1 can be correlated with only one congruent and equivalent
collocation in L2. On the other hand, we have observed the relation of difference in
the collocation gap, i.e. the absence of a collocation in L2 which would formally and
semantically correspond to the given collocation in L1.
The divergent relation of contrast holds between a single Serbian collocation
and two or more English collocations congruent with and equivalent to it. The
content realized in L1 by a single collocation is realized in L2 through multiple
collocations, as in the following:
dokazati alibi (V N) establish an alibi / prove an alibi (V N)
izleeni alkoholiar (Adj N) recovered alcoholic / reformed alcoholic (Adj
N)
jesti s apetitom (V Prep N) eat with relish / eat with zest (V Prep N)
mirne demonstracije (Adj N) peaceful demonstrations / non-violent
demonstrations (Adj N)
mladune vuka (N N) wolf cub / wolf whelp / wolf offspring (N N)
odravati maine (V N) maintain machinery / keep up machinery / service
machinery (V N)
oduzeti paso (V N) revoke passport / withdraw passport (V N)
platiti odtetu (V N) pay indemnity / pay compensation / pay damages (V N)
proglasiti amnestiju (V N) proclaim amnesty / issue amnesty / declare
amnesty (V N)
pruiti podrku (V N) give support / lend support (V N)
srdana atmosfera (Adj N) cordial atmosphere / congenial atmosphere /
warm atmosphere (Adj N)
sumnjivo lice (Adj N) dubious character / suspicious character / shady
character (Adj N)
342
ugrabiti priliku (V N) grasp an opportunity / seize an opportunity / take up
an opportunity (V N)
voditi bitku (V N) wage a battle / fight a battle (V N).
A convergent relation holds between two or more Serbian collocations and a
single English collocation congruent with and equivalent to them, as in the
following:
iskazati naklonost / ispoljiti naklonost / pokazati naklonost (V N) show favor
(V N)
nadati se arko / nadati se ivo (V Adv) hope fervently
najbolja namera / potena namera / iskrena namera (Adj N) good intentions
(Adj N)
oblaiti se ozbiljno / oblaiti se sveano (V Adv) dress formally (V Adv)
prazna fraza / uplja fraza (Adj N) empty phrase (Adj N)
zapodenuti svau / zametnuti / zapoeti svau (V N) pick a quarrel (V N).
The case of difference between Serbian and English in collocational domain is
evident in instances in which particular content in L1 is not encoded by a collocation
in L2, but mmay be encoded by a segment of different formal features. For example,
the Serbian collocation moriti glau has its equivalent in the English lexeme starve,
but not in a formally and semantically corresponding collocation. We have noted
collocation gaps in English in searching for the correspondents of the following
Serbian collocations:
a) sneg se beli the L2 collocation gap is due to a lack of a verb in L2
meaning [PRESENT ONESELF / EXIST IN WHITE COLOR];
b) krojiti sudbinu [CONTROL ONES DESTINY] the English verb tailor
[MAKE SUITABLE FOR A PERSON OR PURPOSE BY CHANGING THE DETAILS (tailor a
program / arrangement / production)] would not be an equivalent to Serbian krojiti,
as it does not have the meaning [TAKE CONTROL OVER]; also, shape ones destiny is
only a near equivalent [INFLUENCE ONES LIFE TO A CERTAIN EXTENT];
c) zahvatiti vodu [FILL A VESSEL WITH WATER FROM AN UNREFINED
SOURCE] the given action has not been conceptualized through a collocation in
English;
d) sjaj sunca the nominal collocate is related to the verb sijati (Eng. shine;
the sun shines), and conveys neutral reference to the intensity of the light emitted;
therefore, we have ruled out the near equivalents in English, i.e. brightness of the
sun, gleam of the sun, luminosity of the sun, as in the first brightness refers to strong,
dazzling light, in the second gleam refers to faint light, whereas in the third
luminosity is technical.
The examination of the sample has indicated that systematic relations between
the languages contrasted can be searched within the area of lexical patterns.
Although the rules of lexical patterning are not as explicit as those of grammar, their
observance will result in combinations of lexemes compatible on syntactic, semantic
or stylistic grounds and thus acceptable in a language. The collocations examined
above are examples of patterns established in the lexical systems of the two
343
languages, so that a contrastive analysis may be effective when applied to
collocations as units of those systems.
Additionally, convergent and divergent collocational relations between the two
languages point to some semantic issues within the languages themselves.
Specifically, in quantitative terms, the number of L1 collocations converging into
one L2 collocation and the number of L2 collocations diverging from one L1
collocation is up to three, so that absolutely synonymous collocations within one
language are rare. This phenomenon supports the idea that substitutability in
collocations is minimal. In some instances, the equivalent and congruent
collocations in the divergent or convergent relation differ in stylistic variations, as
some of the lexemes are formal, e.g. cordial (formal) / warm (neutral) atmosphere,
revoke (formal) / withdraw (neutral) a passport, or old-fashioned, e.g. zametnuti
svau. This finding can be helpful in lexicographic endeavors to specify differences
in usage between the collocations of two languages, whose content is identical, and
yet one of them is stylistically marked.
3. Conclusion
The exploration of the sample of Serbian and English collocations has
confirmed that a contrastively oriented inquiry into institutionalized lexical patterns
requires that the lexical systems of the languages be examined thoroughly, with the
recognition of collocational restrictions and ranges of individual lexemes.
Collocations established in the languages contrasted comply with unwavering
constraints on lexical patterning, both syntactic and semantic. Collocations lend
themselves to contrastive examination, because they are not produced arbitrarily.
Contrastive investigation into collocational data may reveal relations between the
collocations institutionalized in the languages contrasted, which may be one-to
many, many-to-one and one-to-zero. This may have further implications for
vocabulary teaching methodology, translation and lexicography.
As for vocabulary teaching, collocations should be taught by referring to
collocational ranges and collocational restrictions at work in the lexical system of a
language, in a manner similar to teaching explicit rules of grammar. Still, since
collocations are so numerous that they cannot be exemplified by every single
instance, laying stress on the non-arbitrariness of lexical patterning would be an
advisable method of instruction. In translation, since collocational ranges of
equivalent L1 and L2 lexemes do not necessarily match in their totality, equivalent
collocations should be searched for within the system of the TL lexicon, as
intuitively established equivalents or tentatively replicated SL lexical patterns may
be unnatural or even meaningless in the TL/TT. Accordingly, collocation gaps
should be carefully reconsidered, since TL gaps cannot be filled by observing the
standards of SL lexical patterning or by word-for-word translation strategy.
Lastly, the explorations in corpus linguistics have dealt systematically with the
procedures of identifying collocations by means of calculating the frequency of
344
word co-occurrences in electronic corpora. Computer-based research into
collocations has also aided the development of software used in collocation
extraction and concordance. In some cases the research has been far-reaching, and
guided towards the advances in the design of corpus query tools, bilingual corpora
and dictionaries. However, no parallel bilingual or multilingual corpora for Serbian
have been devised, the investigation of which may increase our knowledge of
comparability of Serbian collocations with collocations of other languages. A
Serbian-English or English-Serbian parallel corpus can assist in compiling a
bilingual collocation dictionary, as it can enlighten the contrastive relations between
the lexical patterns of the languages and systematic cases of contrast and difference,
which can facilitate the interpretation of collocational data for lexicographic
purposes. Owing to the speed of electronic sample browsing, a machine-readable
format of such a corpus would have many applications in translation, lexicography
and the cross language comparability in contrastive lexicology.
References
Bahns, J. (1993). Lexical Collocations: A Contrastive View. ELT Journal 47/1:
56-63.
Berndt, R. (1969). Lexical Contrastive Analysis. Brno Studies in English Vol. 8:
31-36
orevi, R. (1987). Uvod u kontrastiranje jezika. Beograd: Nauna knjiga.
Hartmann, R. R. K. (1973). Contrastive Lexicology. Annual Meeting of BAAL
Howarth, P. (1998). Phraseology and Second Language Proficiency. Applied
Linguistics 19/1: 24-44.
Ivir, V. (1981). Formal Correspondence vs. Translation Equivalence Revisited. In:
Even-Zohar and G. Toury (eds.) Theory of Translation and Intercultural
Relations. University of Tel Aviv: 51-59.
Kurte, S. (2006). Contrastive Analysis. In: An Encyclopedia of The Arts Vol. 4
(9). Lagos, Nigeria: Lagos State University: 830-839.
Nesselhauf, N. (2003). The Use of Collocations by Advanced Learners of English
and Some Implications for Teaching. Applied Linguistics 24/2: 223-242.
345
Jagoda Topalov
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
EFFECTS OF STRATEGIC READING INSTRUCTION ON EFL
STUDENTS READING PERFORMANCE
Abstract The aim of the research reported in this paper is to investigate the effects
of a strategic reading instruction framework based on the theoretical concepts put
forth by Klingner and Vaughn (1996; 1998) on learners performance on reading
assessment. The research was conducted with two parallel groups of EFL learners at
B2 level studying at the Faculty of Philosophy in Novi Sad (1 experimental, 2
control) over the course of two months. The students in the experimental group had
reading instruction following a structured strategic framework, whereas the control
group had a more traditional, teacher-led reading instruction. This research adopts a
mixed method design and types of data collected include a reading measure (pre-test
and post-test) and researcher in-class observation. It is hypothesized that the
experimental group will significantly outperform the control group on the post-test
reading measure.
Key words: Reading, reading comprehension, strategies, EFL, CSR.
1. Introduction
Having been for almost half a century under the influence of dominant
behaviourist models, over the last three decades the theory on reading in an EFL
context has recognized the influence of cognitive psychology, which views reading
as an active event. Generally, reading is today seen as a purposeful, and creative
mental process in which the reader engages in the construction of meaning from a
text, partly on the basis of new information provided by that text but also partly on
the basis of whatever relevant prior knowledge, feelings, and opinions that reader
brings to the task of making sense of the words on the page (Eskey, 2005: 564). In
this view, processing of information and general cognitive abilities are treated as
crucial elements in the interpretation of an individual's ability to build representation
of the meaning of a text that is accurate and coherent. Reading strategies, commonly
defined as processes that are consciously controlled by readers to solve reading
problems (Grabe, 2009: 221), bridge the gap between cognitive psychology and
reading pedagogy when confronted with a reading task, learners use their minds
and cognitive abilities in active ways to help them understand it (Williams and
Burden, 1997).
346
2. Research on strategic readers
Effective reading instruction is based on the insights into how proficient
readers achieve comprehension and tackle obstacles to understanding. From reading
research on strategic readers, it has been concluded that successful readers use
various reading strategies in order to understand the text and that they are
metacognitively aware of the process of their reading (Anderson, 1999; Grabe, 1991;
2009; Koda, 2004; Palincsar, 2003; Pressley, 2006). In his summary of some of the
most important findings from research on reading strategy use Grabe (2009) states
that all readers, regardless of the rate of their success in reading comprehension, use
many strategies. Furthermore, he asserts that good readers and poor readers use the
same type of strategies, but that good readers use strategies more effectively than do
poor readers. Most importantly in the light of the present study, in his summary of
research findings, Grabe concludes that reading strategies can be taught effectively.
Another very important conclusion from a large number of research studies
indicates that strategic readers often apply strategies in combination, rather than
overusing single strategies and that they automatize certain combinations of
strategies as routine effective responses to reading comprehension needs, as they
have been successful numerous times in the reader's past experiences. Reading
instruction that utilizes multiple reading strategies has been found to be particularly
successful in facilitating the process of becoming a strategic reader (Baker, 2002;
Block and Pressley, 2007; Klingner and Vaughn, 1998; Pressley, 2006).
In the present study, CSR (Collaborative Strategic Reading), a strategic
framework proposed by Klingner and Vaughn (1996; 1998), was put to test with the
aim of providing an answer to the following research question:
C) Is the structured strategic reading instruction more effective in improving
the EFL learners reading comprehension than the traditional teacher-led
reading approach?
Corresponding to this research question, a set of null hypotheses are as follows:
There is no statistically significant difference between the pre-test and the post-
test scores in the experimental group.
There is no statistically significant difference between the control and
experimental groups on the post-test scores.
3. Research Methodology
The study reported in this paper adopts a mixed-method design, the aim of
which is to first arrive at possible generalizations regarding the matter in question
with the use of quantitative methods, and then to provide a deeper insight using
qualitative methods. Quantitative data included a reading measure, administered
before and after the strategic input. The qualitative method included inquiry by
observation, purpose of which is to describe the setting that was observed, the
activities that took place in that setting, the people who participated in those
347
activities, and the meanings of what was observed from the perspectives of those
observed (Patton, 2002: 262). The aim of this investigation is not to confirm the
qualitative data using the quantitative data, and vice versa, but to form a clearer
picture of the matter at hand.
3.1. Participants
The investigation included a total of one hundred and fifty-eight students (N =
158) at B2 level, studying at the Faculty of Philosophy, University of Novi Sad, who
took a course in English as a faculty requirement. Students at B2 level of CEFR
(Common European Framework of Reference) are particularly appropriate for the
study of strategies used in reading L2 texts, because this is the first level of
knowledge at which students can understand the main ideas of complex texts on
both concrete and abstract topics. Furthermore, since many researchers believe that
L2 readers are more attentive to the surface structure of the text as opposed to L1
readers (e.g. Carrell, 1983; Muchisky, 1983), B2 is the first level at which the
learners are equipped with the level of language skill development needed for the
strategy use to become internalized and automatized.
The investigation included two parallel groups of participants, namely the
experimental group with eighty students (N1 = 80) and the control group with
seventy-eight students (N2 = 78).
3.2. Classroom Intervention
The intervention lasted for ten weeks (more specifically, forty classes) during
the spring of 2010. Following the CSR framework, four reading strategies were
taught in the experimental group a) preview, b) click and clunk, c) get the gist, and
d) wrap-up
1
.
The first strategy taught in CSR is preview. As Klingner and Vaughn (1998)
state, its main goal is for students to predict what they will read and to activate their
background knowledge. Making predictions will help generate hypotheses about the
content of the text, set up goals and objectives for reading and identify its purpose
and possible benefits (Carrell, 1988; Oxford, 1990; Pressley, 2006). According to
Rosenblatt (1978), background knowledge is what the reader brings to the reading
event and it includes his or her life and educational experiences, feelings,
personality. This knowledge is organized into schemata, or mental structures in
1
It should be noted that this study attempts to investigate the effect of the proposed strategic
framework on learners comprehension scores, without testing the effects of the
individual/collaborative dichotomy of the reading event on the development of reading strategies and
reading proficiency.
348
which we store all the information we know about people, places, objects, or
activities (McGee and Richgels, 1996: 5). Activating appropriate schemata
facilitates comprehension and it is particularly important for less proficient EFL
readers who usually fail to adopt a holistic approach to the text (Anderson, 1999).
During the reading, click and clunk is the reading strategy implemented to
help students monitor their reading comprehension and identify when they have
breakdowns in understanding. Many researchers state that lack of adequate
vocabulary knowledge represents one of the crucial obstacles to text comprehension
(Anderson, 1999; Levine and Reves, 1990; Pressley, 2006). One of the ways that
this issue has successfully been dealt with is explicit teaching of vocabulary
strategies. In CSR, students are taught several vocabulary strategies which help them
overcome comprehension blockages. They include strategies such as looking for
contextual clues in the sentence which contains the unknown word (i.e. the clunk),
widening the context with sentences that precede and follow the clunk sentence and
looking for clues there, identifying word parts and looking for prefixes and suffixes.
Another reading strategy used is get the gist, which helps students to identify
and focus on the most important idea in a section of a text, excluding non-essential
information. Main-idea comprehension, or getting the gist, represents a complex
mental activity which involves attentional responses, metacognitive awareness and
strategic support (Grabe, 2009) and, as such, is not an easy task. It is, therefore,
suggested that particular emphasis be placed on effective instructional environment
(Palincsar, 2003; Pressley, 2006).
After reading, students in CSR use the wrap-up strategy to formulate
questions and answers about what they read and review key ideas, with the aim of
checking understanding of the whole reading passage. According to Moreillon
(2007), readers cannot and should not try to integrate every bit of information they
read into their schemata main ideas give learners the opportunity to pass
judgement on the value of information and use it effectively (Moreillon, 2007: 98).
Students must understand what they read so that they could use accessed
information effectively. In CSR, students can generate five Ws and one H (who,
what, when, where, why and how) questions about the most important information
in the text in order to facilitate comprehension checking.
The manner in which this strategic input was used and practised with the
experimental group was modified as classes progressed, from a general discussion
about strategies, over teacher modelling, to students application in reading, first
with scaffolded assistance and then, finally, without it (Janzen, 2002).
On the other hand, the control group followed the reading instruction based on
traditional, teacher-led classes following cues from the teacher, the students would
first read the text, then they would check the meaning of any unknown words or
phrases with the teacher, or using a dictionary, the teacher would then ask
comprehension questions to check that students understood what they had read,
which would be followed by a short discussion about the text.
349
3.3. Materials
Materials used in the present study consisted of the texts from the course
book New Cutting Edge Upper-Intermediate (Cunningham and Moor, 2005). The
number of texts covered during the ten weeks of intervention was twelve. These
included a wide range of topics from concrete (for example How to become a
celebrity) to more abstract ones (for example, Medical ethics and medical science).
3.4. Instruments
Instruments used in the study included parallel forms of a reading
comprehension test, administered before and after the strategic input. They consisted
of two texts with the approximate length of three hundred and fifty words, with ten
multiple-choice questions for each text. Each test consisted of four different types of
reading questions. Among these, two types of questions tested basic comprehension,
namely getting the main idea items and factual information items. The test also
included vocabulary items and inferencing items.
3.5. Data analysis
In order to investigate the research question and the null hypotheses stated
previously, quantitative and qualitative analyses were conducted on the gathered
data. Firstly, a planned analysis using the paired-samples t-test was performed on
pre-test and post-test scores of the experimental and the control group respectively,
as well as the independent-samples t-test testing the difference between the
experimental and the control group before and after the strategic input. The tests
were performed using SPSS Statistics 17 software.
The variables investigated in the quantitative part of the research are as
follows:
T1 the average score of the participants on the pre-test measure (reading
comprehension test 1),
T2 the average score of the participants on the post-test measure (reading
comprehension test 2).
Both variables have numeric values and represent average students scores on a
scale of 0 to 30.
Following the quantitative analysis, a qualitative analysis was performed
using the methods of interpretation and categorization of the data gathered through
in-class observations.
350
4. Quantitative analysis and discussion
A previous inspection of the gathered data determined that no data were
missing and that the analysis could include all participants.
In order to allow for the comparison of the results of the two groups involved
in the study, an initial analysis was performed with the aim of establishing that the
experimental and the control group do not differ significantly. The results of the
initial independent samples t-test can be seen in Table 1.
Experimental group T1 Control group T1
N 80 78
Mean 21.130 20.037
Std. Dev. 8.722 9.799
Mean Diff. 1.093
SE of Diff. 1.608
t .680
p .499
t
0.05
= 1.99
t
0.01
= 2.65
N number of participants; Std. Dev. standard deviation; Mean Diff. mean difference;
SE of Diff. standard error of mean difference; t t-value; p p-value.
Table 1: Independent samples t-test for pre-test measure scores
On average, the participants from the two groups scored similarly on the initial
reading comprehension test, with the result of the data analysis indicating that there
is no statistically significant difference between the groups (t(77) = 0.680, p > 0.05).
Based on this analysis, it was concluded that it was possible to begin the structured
strategic input in the experimental group.
Following the strategic input and the post-test measure, the difference in the
scores of the experimental and the control group on reading comprehension test 1
and reading comprehension test 2 was tested with a paired-samples t-test. Results are
shown in Table 2.
Experimental group Control group
N 80 78
95% CI 2.34, 6.47 -1.62, 3.92
Mean T1 21.29 20.21
Mean T2 25.7 21.36
Mean Diff. 4.41 1.14
Std. Dev. 12.62 9.39
SE of Diff. 1.39 1.03
t 4.245 0.822
351
p .001 .413
t
0.05
= 1.99
t
0.01
= 2.65
N number of participants; 95% CI - 95% confidence interval; Mean T1 mean score on
pre-test measure; Mean T2 mean score on post-test measure; Std. Dev. standard
deviation; SE of Diff. standard error of mean difference; t t-value; p p-value.
Table 2: Paired samples t-test for scores on the pre-test and the post-test measure
Results show that the difference between scores of the control group on two
tests is negligible and the effect of teacher-led instruction is non-statistical (t(77) =
0.822, p > 0.05), whereas the difference between scores on the two tests of the
experimental group is statistically significant and the effect is noticeable (t(79) =
4.245, p < 0.001). The null hypothesis that there is no statistically significant
difference between the pre-test and the post-test scores in the experimental group
can be rejected.
Finally, another independent-samples t-test was conducted in order to see
whether the experimental group outperformed the control group on the post-test, and
whether these results are statistically significant. Results can be seen in Table 3.
Experimental group T2 Control group T2
N 80 78
Mean 24.728 21.2
Std. Dev. 6.31 10.2
Mean Diff. 3.52
SE of Diff. 1.49
t 2.355
p 0.021
t
0.05
= 1.99
t
0.01
= 2.65
N number of participants; Std. Dev. standard deviation; Mean Diff. mean difference;
SE of Diff. standard error of mean difference; t t-value; p p-value.
Table 3: Independent samples t-test for post-test measure scores
Results show that the difference is statistical (t(77) = 2.355, p < 0.05). Thus,
the null hypothesis that there is no statistically significant difference between the
control and experimental groups on the post-test scores can be rejected.
From the results presented, it can be concluded with statistical certainty that the
effect of structured strategic input is noticeable and that it leads to better results in
students' reading comprehension scores. The students from the experimental group
outperformed the students from the control group on the post-test measure. They
also showed progress with respect to the pre-test measure although both groups on
352
average scored better on the second test, which is to be expected since both groups
had reading instruction, the results of the experimental group are statistically
significant and, therefore, subject to unbiased interpretation.
5. Qualitative analysis and discussion
The teacher kept an account of the activities in class and the students
responses to these activities during the two months of the duration of the strategic
input. The observations and conclusions that follow indicate that there was an
observable effect of the structured strategic input on the behaviours of the students
in the experimental group, whereas students in the control group showed very little
progress.
Namely, students from the control group, who were exposed to traditional
teacher-led instruction exhibited high dependence on the teacher and the course-
book. They answered questions only when they were prompted. On several
occasions, students from the control group did not use additional contextual
information provided by the pictures, diagrams and subheadings in the course book
in order to facilitate their understanding of the text, but noticed the connection
between this additional information and the text only after the teacher pointed it out.
They also showed high dependence on the syntactic, surface structure of the text,
which was evident in the large amount of words they did not know and the inability
to move forward with the text unless all the words are explained. On the whole, they
failed to self-regulate comprehension processes as they read.
On the other hand, students from the experimental group showed greater
autonomy during reading tasks. They more freely offered answers and solutions,
providing their own interpretations and engaging in discussions with other students.
They also showed greater tolerance of unknown words and phrases in the text,
adopting the attitude that it is not necessary to understand every word in order to get
the gist of the passage (the teacher made this discovery when, after a successful
wrap up stage, she asked students to explain the meaning of certain words and
phrases and realized that, even though students have a general idea, they were still
unsure of their meaning). Students from the experimental group also used a wide
range of strategies during the reading stage (they were using contextual clues,
connecting the topic with their background knowledge, breaking up unknown words
and looking for prefixes or suffixes, etc.) and were able to put in words the process
that led them to a certain conclusion or a comprehension of a certain word or phrase
showing greater metacognitive awareness (for instance, while reading about natural
disasters, students came across the adjective impending; this was an unknown
word for the entire class, until one student volunteered his interpretation, saying that
he figured out what the word means because he linked it with what he sometimes
sees on his mobile phone namely, message pending). Furthermore, they often
used text structure to make sense of the text, which can be interpreted as a sign of a
353
holistic approach to reading. On the whole, it can be concluded that as the course
progressed so did the students autonomy in dealing with the reading tasks.
6. Conclusion and implications for further research
The instructional treatment assessed in this study directly addresses the need
for explicit instruction of reading strategies, which would provide learners with a
wide range of tools in dealing with complex texts and subject matters. The findings
of the study demonstrate several benefits of the analysed strategic framework. First
of all, the students exposed to the structured input achieved significantly better
results in the reading comprehension test as opposed to the students who participated
in teacher-led classes. Furthermore, the research findings testify to the value of
explicit instruction of multiple strategies in facilitating learner autonomy and
confidence.
One limitation of the present study is related to the limited period of time
allotted for the structured strategic intervention. As many researchers believe,
instruction in strategies is a long and time-consuming process (Fan, 2010; Farrell,
2001; Grabe, 1991; Pressley, 2006). In light of this, more time is needed for the
development of automaticity and internalization of strategies, the final goal of which
is a self-regulated L2 learner.
References
Anderson, N. (1999). Exploring Second Language Reading: Issues and Strategies.
Toronto: Heinle and Heinle Publishers.
Baker, L. (2002). Metacognition in Comprehension Instruction. In: C. Block and
M. Pressley (eds.). Comprehension Instruction: Research Based Practices.
New York: Guilford Press, 77-95.
Block, C. and Pressley, M. (2007). Best Practices in Teaching Comprehension. In:
L. Gambrell, L. Morrow, and M. Pressley (eds.). Best Practices in Literacy
Instruction. New York: Guilford Press, 220-242.
Carrell, P. (1983). Three Components of Background Knowledge in Reading
Comprehension. Language Learning 33: 183-208.
Carrell, P. (1988). Some Causes of Text-Boundedness and Schema Interference in
ESL Reading Classrooms. In: P. Carell, J. Devine and D. Eskey (eds.).
Interactive Approaches to Second Language Reading. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 239-259.
Cunningham, S. and Moor, P. (2005). New Cutting Edge Upper-Intermediate.
Harlow: Pearson Education Limited.
354
Eskey, D. (2005). Reading in a Second Language. In: E. Hinkel (ed.). Handbook
of Research in Second Language Teaching and Learning. London: Lawrence
Erlbaum Associates, Publishers, 563-579.
Fan, Y. (2010). The Effect of Comprehension Strategy Instruction on EFL
Learners Reading Comprehension. Asian Social Science 6(8): 19-30.
Farrell, T. (2001). Teaching Reading Strategies: It Takes Time!. Reading in a
Foreign Language 13(2): 631-646.
Grabe, W. (1991). Current Developments in Second Language Reading Research.
TESOL Quarterly 25(3): 375-406.
Grabe, W. (2009). Reading in a Second Language: Moving from Theory to Practice.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Janzen, J. (2002). Teaching Strategic Reading. In: J. Richards and W. Renandya
(eds.). Methodology in Language Teaching. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 287-294.
Klingner, J. and Vaughn, S. (1996). Reciprocal Teaching of Reading
Comprehension Strategies for Students with Learning Disabilities who use
English as a Second Language. Elementary School Journal 96: 275-293.
Klingner, J. and Vaughn, S. (1998). Using Collaborative Strategic Reading.
Teaching Exceptional Children July/Aug: 34-37.
Koda, K. (2004). Insights into Second Language Reading: A Cross-Linguistic
Approach. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Levine, A. and Reves, T. (1990). Does the Method of Vocabulary Presentation
Make a Difference?. TESL Canada Journal 8: 37-51.
McGee, L. and Richgels, D. (1996). Literacys Beginnings: Supporting Young
Readers and Writers. 2
nd
edition. Boston: Allyn and Bacon.
Moreillon, J. (2007). Collaborative Strategies for Teaching Reading
Comprehension: Maximizing Your Impact. Chicago: American Library
Association.
Muchisky, D. (1983). Relationships Between Speech and Reading among Second
Language Learners. Language Learning 33: 77-102.
Oxford, R. (1990). Language Learning Strategies: What Every Teacher should
Know. Boston: Heinle and Heinle Publishers.
Palincsar, A. (2003). Collaborative Approaches to Comprehension Instruction. In:
A. Sweet and C. Snow (eds.). Rethinking Reading Comprehension. New York:
Guilford Press, 99-114.
Patton, M. (2002): Qualitative Research and Evaluation Methods. 3
rd
edition.
Thousand Oaks, London, New Delhi: Sage Publications.
Pressley, M. (2006). Reading Instruction that Works: The Case for Balanced
Teaching. 3
rd
edition. New York: The Guilford Press.
Rosenblatt, L. (1978). The reader, the Text, the Poem: The Transactional Theory of
the Literary Work. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press.
Williams, M. and Burden, R. (1997). Psychology for Language Teachers: A Social
Constructivist Approach. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
355
Dragana Vukovi Vojnovi / Marija Niin
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected] / [email protected]
'WOULD YOU CARE FOR A DRINK?' POLITE QUESTIONS AND
REQUESTS IN THE CROSS-CULTURAL CONTEXT OF TOURISM
INDUSTRY
Abstract In addition to the main function of communication (information
exchange), its social function is often emphasized, especially in a cross-cultural
context such as tourism industry. Within this line of thought, it has also been shown
that any type of communication includes certain degrees of politeness. The main
focus of this paper is to establish key expressions regarding polite questions and
requests in the tourism industry context and to determine students' awareness of
those expressions, as well as their attitudes towards degrees of politeness in English
and Serbian. The study will present the results of a knowledge test and a
questionnaire completed by university students of tourism and hospitality
management, followed by the discussion of the results and their implications for the
English for Tourism and Hospitality classes at university level.
Key words: politeness, language of tourism, pragmatics, EAP, ESP.
1. Introduction
Exploring foreign language competence and performance in the context of the
language of tourism, requires an insight into communicative skills and pragmatics,
and their implications for language for specific purposes. The language of tourism is
packed with numerous social and professional interactions where the roles of
speakers and listeners are clearly defined and need to be complied with. This type of
specific language is also clearly situationally structured. One of the key goals in
English for tourism and hospitality is to equip the learners with an array of
functional and situationally appropriate language.
The concept of tourism as language or the so-called rhetoric of tourism
(Dann, 2001) comprises the relationship between the speaker and the listener and the
influence the speaker has over the listener. Thus, we can see that the communication
in the context of tourism can be very powerful, which calls for the implementation
of the concept of politeness, which creates smoother and more harmonious
communication (Cruse, 2011).
Pragmatics is concerned with the study of communication and contextual
meaning and relative distance of participants in a conversation (Yule, 1996). It
involves the investigation of the speakers language and what is behind the speakers
356
words and how a particular conversation sequence defines the relationship between
the speaker and the listener. If we put this theory in the context of tourism, which is
mainly a service industry, we can easily conclude that the success of this business is
partially dependent on the successful communicative exchange between the speaker
and the listener, i.e. a successful interaction between tourism professionals and their
clients and customers. In the context of teaching and learning English for tourism
and hospitality, tourism professionals need to acquire an inventory of expressions
and also become aware of other aspects that are communicated through them. Our
specific area of interest in this paper deals with the expressions of politeness in
English and students awareness and usage of these expressions.
Sometimes it is extremely difficult to maintain an appropriate level of
politeness in your native language, thus we can assume that it would be more
difficult to be polite in a foreign language. There are many psychological and
sociological reasons causing this difficulty, many of which go outside the scope of
this paper. We assume that one of the main causes, in addition to level of foreign
language proficiency, could be lack of cross-cultural awareness. If we are in a
familiar social setting, we know the rules of the interaction, including the level of
politeness needed (Yule, 1996). But when in a different or unknown social setting,
e.g. when speaking in a foreign language, we consciously or subconsciously struggle
to define our role and the role of our conversational partner in a new conversational
context.
2. The concept of politeness
Politeness is a universal communication concept that may be expressed
differently in different cultures and languages (Bergelson, 2003). To put it in a
broader context, the study of politeness comes under the study of utterances called
speech acts and events, which are studied by pragmatics. Speech acts are utterances
which require a performance or certain actions and are given specific labels: a
complaint, a compliment, a promise, and apology, a request and so on (Yule, 1996, p
47). Many of these utterances are of interest for the language of tourism. They can
be classified in different ways, and in terms of politeness the most important
distinctions are whether we are dealing with direct or indirect speech acts and
whether we are employing negative or positive politeness strategy.
First of all, we need to give a possible definition of politeness. Lakoff (Lakoff,
1990) defines politeness as a system of interpersonal relations designed to facilitate
interaction by minimizing the potential for conflict and confrontation inherent in all
human interchange. We can see that this definition takes into account the
participants of the conversation and their intention to accomplish something in the
best and the most fruitful way. If we put this into the context of learning English for
tourism, there is a new aspect involved taking into account a different culture and
its politeness strategies.
357
In English, the most common forms of politeness are expressed through
indirect speech acts and negative politeness strategies. This has been observed by
other authors interested in the concept of workplace politeness strategies. Thus
Bergelson (Bergelson, 2003) when comparing Russian and American social
communication strategies notices that there is a positive correlation between
politeness and indirectness in American language patterns. The key to this type of
strategies is that they give or grant independence to the hearer. It is also called
deference politeness. For example, a receptionist might say using an indirect speech
act:
a) Could you give me your passport, please?
Or a tourist may ask a passer-by using an indirect speech act with a negative
politeness strategy:
b) I am sorry, but could I ask where Central Station is?
In these expressions, we usually have an apology followed by an indirect
question with a modal verb, most typically:
Can/Could I ask May/Might I ask
For the purposes of this paper, we have investigated students attitudes toward
politeness in general, if they are aware of certain politeness expressions in the
context of tourism industry, if they are able to produce these expressions and finally
which expressions they have most typically used. The expressions that were
expected are given in Table 1:
FUNCTION EXPRESSIONS
Asking for (further) information/explanation Can/ Could you tell me if/ wh-word
I would like to know if/wh-word
Asking for permission Can/May/Could/Might I ask if /wh-word
Do you mind if I (open the window)?
Politely requesting an action from someone
else/ politely ordering
Can/ Could you (e.g. put out a cigarette),
please?
Would you mind (e.g. putting out a
cigarette), please?
Offering your help or action Would you like me to?
Shall/ Should I
Do you mind if I?
Addressing the customer/ client Sir / Madam
Other expressions Please,....
Excuse me....
I am sorry....
Table 1: The expressions that were expected
3. Research aims and methodology
The empirical part of the paper comprises a questionnaire about students
attitudes towards politeness in the context of tourism industry and a two-partite test
358
on their awareness of certain politeness expressions in English and their ability to
use them independently. The research was performed in two phases. Research
sample includes 40 first-year students of Hotel Management and 56 students of
Tourism Management at the Faculty of Science.
The questionnaire consisted of a total of 12 questions, six of them being
demographic questions. Students were also asked to give a general assessment of
their level of English and to state how often they used English outside the
classroom.
The test about students ability of independently producing polite expressions
was given in the form of contextual situations. The students were given a description
of nine situations in their mother tongue and asked to produce a sentence(s) in
English which would be most appropriate in the given situation. For example:
Situation 5: Traite od svog kolege da proveri neke cene za vas. ta kaete u toj
situaciji?
1
____________________________________________________________________
Expected answer: more formal: Could you check those prices for me,
please?or less formal: Will you check those prices for me , please?/ Please check
those prices for me, will you?
The students answers relating to their choice of polite expression in English
were assessed according to the following scale:
3-appropriate (if the expression completely corresponds to one of the common
polite expressions in English)
2-partially appropriate (if part of the expression was wrong in terms of word
choice or order)
1-inappropriate (if the expression content was wrong for the given context, the
wording of the expression is wrong or the expression does not exist).
0-unanswered.
Spelling mistakes and grammar errors after the polite expression in the
sentence were not assessed.
The test about students awareness of polite expressions in English was given
in the form of 10 situations in Serbian each followed by two possible sentences in
English. Students were asked to circle the best responses for the given situations.
For example,
Situation 5: Radite na aerodromu na prijemnom alteru. ta kaete
putnicima?
2
a) Give me your passports and tickets.
b) Can I see your tickets and passports, please?
Expected answer is b.
1
You are asking from your colleague to check some prices for you? What do you say?
2
You work at the check-in desk at the airport. What do you say to the passengers?
359
4. Discussion of questionnaires
As it has already been mentioned, research sample comprised 40 students of
Hotel Management (HM group) and 56 students of Tourism Management (TM
group). These two groups have different courses in English which are focused on
the specific language of their future professions. Both courses cover broader context
of the English for tourism and hospitality, but they also focus on subject-specific
topics and situations. Topics and situations covered with Hotel Management
students are related to customer relationships, hotel facilities, staffing and internal
organization and marketing within the hotel industry context. Topics and situations
covered with Tourism Management students involve tourism policy planning,
designing itineraries, tour planning, exploring relationship between geography and
tourism, as well as customer relationships in a travel agency or passenger transport
companies. When analyzing the questionnaires, we also searched for differences in
responses between the two groups.
We will briefly look into the demographic questions. Most of the students in
both groups were female (67% in HM group and 79% in TM group) and they
learned English for more than eight years prior to the faculty enrollment. This is in
accordance with our school system where students are introduced to English in the
fifth grade of primary school and then continue learning until the fourth year of
secondary school. It is interesting to mention that one student from TM group had
never learned English before. Only six students obtained Cambridge First Certificate
in English. The analysis of the results showed no significant difference in the
responses of the students of different gender.
The main purpose of the questionnaire was to assess students awareness of
cross-cultural elements related to politeness in the language of tourism. A majority
of the total 96 students from both groups are aware of the significance of politeness
with the context of tourism industry (96%), only one student did not have any
opinion on the question and one student said that he/she did not agree with the
statement. They also see politeness as a competitive advantage in a tourism industry
company (89%) and agree that they need to learn polite expressions in a foreign
language (90%). Yet they need to learn more about cross-cultural discrepancies in
different languages and cultures. When asked if they would adjust their politeness
strategy to guests of different cultures they gave mixed answers. Most of the
students in HM group agreed with the statement (57.5%) and 17.5% said that they
completely agree. However, 12.5% of the students in HM group said that they had
no opinion on the topic and 12.5% said that they did not agree with the statement.
When TM group is concerned, 18.8% of the students said that they completely agree
with the statement, 40.8% of students said that they agree with the statement, 20.4%
did not have an opinion on the issue while 20% of the respondents did not agree
with the statement.
360
5. Discussion of test results
The aim of the first part of the test was to establish students awareness of
different polite expressions in English. The results show that both HM and TM
students are well-aware of the level of politeness they need in the relationship to
their customers or clients, the level of distance they need to keep between them and
their clients. Most questions were answered with almost 100% correct answer
choices. Students were aware that answers such as What is that you want?, Hang
on a minute, Ill ask Sandra., and Sit and wait in the lounge for few minutes were
not the right ones to choose in tourism and hospitality related context. Situation 8
where the appropriate phrase included the expression We look forward to
welcoming you again in the future was the most difficult one to choose. There were
75% of students in HM group and 63% of students in TM group who chose this
answer, while 25% in HM group and 37% in TM group chose the wrong answer. In
question 6 where they were expected to choose the sentence One moment please,
madam. Ill work out the total, 87% in HM group chose the correct answer, 10%
chose the wrong answer and one student did not answer. Three students in TM
group chose the wrong answer to question 9 where they circled Can you come at 7
oclock instead of I wonder if it is possible for you to come at 7 oclock? One
student in TM group did not answer either one question.
It is clearly noticeable that students from HM group showed slightly better
results in terms of the level of politeness needed for handling customers
successfully. These results can be justified by the difference between hotel
management and tourism management professions. Unlike tourism management
profession, which is more involved in tourism planning and policy instead of clients
and customers services, hotel management or hospitality profession is of slightly
stronger customer-oriented nature.
All this shows that students are highly aware of these expressions, but when
their productive skills were tested students showed an average performance
especially when we talk about their choice of polite expressions. Students used a
rather limited set of expressions in their answers. This proves that there is some
degree of distortion and loss in the process of transfer. An insight into some of their
answers will illustrate students performance. Question 1 (asking for someones
name and contact details) and question 8 (asking someone to close the window)
were asked in the appropriate and partially appropriate way by most of the students -
85% and 87.5 % in HM group and 82% and 81.5% in TM group respectively. This
is followed by answers to question 5 (asking your colleague to help you) and
question 6 (offering a drink in a restaurant) which were given appropriately or
partially appropriately by 72.5% and 75% of the students in HM group and 71.5%
and 76% of the students in TM group (e.g. What do you want to drink? or Do you
want something to drink? instead of What would you like to drink?). Question 7
was also formed appropriately by most of the students with 46% in HM group and
56% in TM group being partially appropriate, meaning they are acceptable but not
361
totally acceptable. These answers were expected because most of them could also be
related to general situations in a foreign language and not only to tourism context.
In strict tourism-related contexts (questions 2, 3, 4, 7 and 9) HM and TM
students made more mistakes in asking questions appropriately or they left the
questions unanswered. This could be explained by the lack of vocabulary needed to
confidently ask the question.
When looking into specific polite expressions and vocabulary that students
used in their questions, we can see in Table 2 that they used a rather limited set:
Asking for information/ permission/ action to be
taken
Can/ Could I have/ get/ ask/?
Can/ Could you check/ close/ shut?
Offering something to someone/ help Would you like?
Table 2: Expressions that were most often used by the students
Only two students in HM group as well as two students in TM group used the
expression May I (ask)? to ask for permission. In question 7 where students
should offer to call the doctor, only three students in HM group and 6 students in
TM group started their question with Should I? and four students in HM group
and five students in TM group started their question with Shall I?. In the same
question, only eight of students in HM group and eight students in TM group used
expression Would you like me to? In question 5 where they needed to ask their
colleague for help, only one student in HM group and one student in TM group used
the expression Would you mind (checking) ?. It can also be noted that students do
not address the customer appropriately. Only five out of 40 students from HM group
began their sentence in question 2 with I am sorry, sir/madam, ten used
inappropriate ways of addressing the customer I am sorry Mr./Mrs., and the others
did not address the customer at all, most likely because they could not think of an
appropriate expression. When TM group is concerned, the results resemble those
obtained in HM group. Most of the students have problems with appropriate ways of
addressing the customers. Seven students began their replies with I am sorry
Mr./Mrs. while four students began with Hey/Hello. In question 2 where they
needed to ask a customer to stop smoking, seven students in TM group used the
expression Stop smoking. Eleven students in TM group and ten students in HM
group never used please in any of their replies. The student from TM group who is a
true beginner answered all the questions either appropriately or partially
appropriately. In question 6, when both groups were asked to offer guest a drink,
zero out of a total of 96 students from both groups used the formal politeness form
Would you care for a drink?
6. Implications and conclusion
In the empirical part of the paper aimed at testing students awareness of
certain politeness expressions in English and their ability to use them independently,
362
the majority of participants demonstrated that they are well-aware of the level of
politeness and the level of distance they need to maintain with their clients and
guests. However, when their productive skills were tested by choosing specific
forms of polite expressions, students displayed an average performance. Moreover,
students were incapable of recognizing politeness strategies in strictly tourism-
related contexts. Students in HM group showed somewhat better results than
students in TM group in terms of the level of politeness needed for handling
customers successfully. This can be justified by the nature of hotel management or
hospitality profession which is slightly more customer-oriented than tourism
management, which could involve tourism planning and policy instead of dealing
directly with clients and customers.
Students did not show a satisfying level of empathy towards cross-cultural
discrepancies in different languages and cultures. When asked if they would adjust
their politeness strategy to guests from different cultural backgrounds, a significant
number of students said that they would not. The results of this paper clearly suggest
that there is a need for the students to acknowledge the differences between
cultures. Knowing these differences may reduce the intercultural miscommunication
or communication breakdown.
The major sources of miscommunication in intercultural contexts lie in the
differences in patterns of the way people speak and act. The acquisition of
sociolinguistic rules can be greatly facilitated by teachers who have the necessary
information at their command. Teachers are those who have the sensitivity to use
their knowledge in order to guide students and help them interpret values and
patterns they would otherwise have difficulty in interpreting.
References
Bergelson, M.B. (2003). "Russian Cultural Values and Workplace Communication
Styles". " 2003: "
("Communication Studies 2003: Modern Anthology"). -
.
: , 97-112.
Cruse, A. (2011). Meaning in Language , An Introduction to Semantics and
Pragmatics. London: Oxford University Press.
Dann, M.S.G. (2001). The Language of Tourism, A Sociolinguistic Perspective.
London: CAB International.
Lakoff, R. (1990). Talking Power. The Politics of Language. New York: Basic
Books, 34-38.
Yule, G. (1996). Pragmatics. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
363
Isidora Wattles
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
EFFECTIVE COURSE RELATED ASSESSMENT TECHNIQUES
Abstract The aim of this paper is to address the issue of adequate assessment of
students knowledge with respect to the various levels of cognitive functions
involved in language learning. The need for improving learning, teaching and
assessment strategies is evident from this perspective, since the assessment and
grading are mostly performed based on declarative knowledge and lower level
cognitive functions, such as recognition and recall. The selected assessment
techniques will be presented both from theoretical and practical aspects. The
techniques presented in the paper are used to assess some of the following: prior
knowledge, analytical skills and critical thinking, synthesis skills and creative
thinking, problem solving skills and application and performance. The application,
construction, advantages and disadvantages, and cognitive demand on the students
of some of these techniques are also illustrated.
Key words: assessment, prior knowledge, analytical skills, critical thinking,
synthesis skills, creative thinking, problem solving skills, application, performance.
1. Introduction
The ongoing battle to improve students learning boomerangs directly into the
hands of teachers. In the complexity of the teaching job, there is not one single issue
that is said to be the most important. The field of assessment, however, is where
most fine tuning should happen once we cast a glance at common assessment
practices in language classrooms.
One of the crucial aspects of teaching is monitoring students progress. This
monitoring is most often referred to as continual evaluation, and although it is
carried out, it rarely provides information on how well students have mastered what
has been taught, what topics might be problematic, why they might be problematic
or how students could make better progress. In fact, most of these evaluations are
summative and only provide numerical, quantitative information grades or points
as relevant in the norm-referenced evaluation. The failure to provide feedback to
students is also failure to provide valuable information for teachers, the flow of
which enables meaningful learning and a positive environment for further progress
of both teachers and students.
364
The maintenance of this classroom feedback loop (Angelo and Cross, 1993)
is not the only reason to work at employing informative assessment techniques.
There are instances when what is being taught is not what is being learned. When
these gaps are uncovered, it is usually too late in the course to reverse the damages.
Timely and accurate diagnostics therefore must be applied, so that the gained insight
may be used to re-direct teaching or otherwise enhance student learning.
2. Grading, evaluation, assessment
So far three closely related synonyms have already been used in this paper
assessment, evaluation and grading, the usage of which may need some
clarification, since proper treatment of their meanings represents key aspects of this
paper.
Grading is a process which almost invariably results in a numerical or
alphabetical symbol for either specific tasks or a whole course (Speck and Jones,
1998). The final grade assigned corresponds to a specific quantitative measurement
against pre-set norms. Grading is necessary practice and a result of norm-
referencing, where it is important to establish the standing of an individual within a
group or relative to a certain level of achievement required to obtain a pass
(Cohen, 1994). This may include many different activities, such as completing a
course, course of studies, passing entrance exams, standardized tests, etc. (CEFR,
2001). Its primary usage is related to institutional usage. Although grading is an
unavoidable and necessary process, it speaks very little of the actual knowledge or
applicability of the knowledge of individuals in question.
Similarly, much like the grading process, evaluation is concerned with giving a
judgment on the quality of what is being measured. Most often, however, it is
understood as a process of large-scale measurements of quality of series of
individuals or institutions. As such, it hardly represents a factor of confusion when
speaking of progress monitoring of individuals in specific contexts of course-related
development.
Finally, assessment is a term greatly varied in usage and interpretation. Speck
and Jones (1998) use it to cover the notion of evaluation, as described above.
However, most authors (e.g. Cohen, 1994; Bachman, 1990; Elbow, 1993; CEFR,
2001) use this term to denote the process of establishing the quality of contents
(task, gained knowledge, essay, etc.) for diagnostic purposes. In this respect,
assessment is a valuable tool providing accurate feedback to teachers and students.
Often, it is interchangeably used with the term testing (Brown, 1994; Cohen, 1994),
although this may not at all times be fully justified. Assessment is also used to
denote activities such as specifying criteria by which to ascertain someones
knowledge or language performance (Rivers, 1983). Also, assessment denotes the
process of specifying contents and format of tests and examinations, as well as
describing the gained course-related knowledge relative to the specifications
mentioned above (CFER, 2001). As such, assessment is formative and suitable for
365
small-scale measurements of individuals output in context specific situations
(Angelo and Cross, 1993). Its primary goal is to provide feedback and information
of the state of affairs and not to assign grades or compare individuals within a group.
Since the aim of this paper is to present techniques which can be used to
ascertain the gained knowledge or performance of students in order to diagnose
potential problems and enhance learning, and hopefully teaching, the choice of the
term assessment seems to be the most adequate one.
3. Achieving effectiveness
As was previously discussed, in order to be effective as a diagnostic tool,
assessment must be formative in nature. Moreover, it must also be learner-centered
(Angelo and Cross, 1993), since the primary goal is to observe and improve the
process of learning. Final objective is not to achieve short-term successes, but to
develop metacognitive skills and in that manner empower students to become more
independent, self-monitoring and fully responsible for their learning. By cooperating
in the assessment process students may discover that their study habits must change
to improve learning. Providing students with the tools that give them insights into
their context-specific knowledge progress will by the transfer of knowledge become
the tools readily used in other activities and life-long learning, thus achieving long-
term successes.
To gain full benefits from assessment, techniques employed should be context-
specific (Angelo and Cross, 1993): closely related to the teaching goals, subject
matter, applicability of the knowledge gained, as well as other context specific
factors (micro-culture developed within a class, etc.). If this requirement is met
when constructing assessment tools, a great level of validity is achieved (Hamp-
Lyons, 1991). The concept of test reliability, however, might be construed as
problematic, since such context-specific assessment tools cannot give the same
results applied to a different group of test-takers. As was pointed out earlier in the
text, the aim is to diagnose and not rank or grade, so the lack of reliability does not
represent a problem when aiming at establishing the acquired knowledge.
To be fully effective, assessment tools must reflect course goals, objectives,
and expected learning outcomes, which, in turn, must be explicitly given to the
students. Finally, assessment should be followed by detailed, straightforward and
prompt feedback to be beneficial to the students.
One of the rare common goals of all teachers at all levels is promoting
cognitive growth of their students. Assessment techniques (henceforth ATs) should
therefore reflect various levels of cognitive functions, enabling both students and
teachers to gain information on how much progress has been made and how further
learning and teaching should be modified and directed.
Cognitive psychologists have devised different models of cognitive structure
and there is constant development and research conducted in this area. The most
36
in
an
ai
to
to
us
lo
fu
su
su
re
pr
to
th
or
un
on
sc
di
Jo
kn
ap
66
nflu
nd M
im o
o illu
o ad
sers
owe
unct
uch
uch
ema
rese
o th
hink
rder
nde
nly
chem
iffer
onas
now
pplic
ent
Mad
of t
ustr
dopt
s. T
er-le
tion
Mo
as
as
ain
ent
he s
king
r fu
Lo
ersta
me
mat
ren
ssen
wled
1
Si
catio
ial
dau
this
rate
t Bl
The
evel
ns (a
ostl
rec
s ap
unt
tea
stud
g do
unct
oner
and
ean
ta.
nce
n
dge
ince
on ar
tax
us,
pap
e as
loom
dia
l fu
app
ly, t
cogn
ppli
test
che
den
oma
tion
rgan
ding
ning
Pri
pre
and
e is
e cog
re of
xono
197
per
sses
ms
agra
unct
plica
test
niti
icat
ted,
ers w
nts.
ain
ns sh
n's
g an
gful
ior
edic
d G
ex
gnit
ften
omi
71)
r is
ssm
s tax
am
tion
atio
ts th
ion
tion
, an
with
Ho
is
hou
th
nd j
lea
kn
ctor
Grab
xtrem
ive
con
ies
and
not
ent
xon
be
ns (
on,
hat
and
n, a
nd
h g
owe
insu
uld
heor
judg
arni
now
rs o
bow
mel
func
nside
are
d M
t to
tha
nom
low
(kn
ana
are
d ab
anal
mo
grea
eve
uffi
be p
ry
gm
ing
wled
of
wsk
ly i
ction
ered
e Bl
McK
pro
at w
my a
w il
now
alys
e ad
bili
lysi
ost
ater
r, g
ficie
prim
of
ment
oc
dge
ach
ki, 1
imp
ns a
d to b
loom
Keac
ovid
wou
and
lust
wled
sis,
dmin
ity
is,
like
dif
gain
ent
mar
f c
t (L
ccur
is
hiev
199
port
are m
be th
ms
chie
de a
uld e
d ad
trat
dge,
syn
nist
to r
syn
ely,
fficu
ned
and
ry t
cog
Lone
rs w
s on
vem
93).
tant
meas
he ov
s tax
es
a di
enh
apt
tes
un
nthe
tere
rem
nthe
, un
ulty
d kn
d pu
to a
niti
erg
whe
ne
ment
Fr
t, a
sure
verl
xon
(M
iscu
hanc
it t
the
nder
esis
Fig
ed m
mem
esis
nde
y w
now
urp
ll re
ion
an,
en n
of
t (A
rom
as i
ed al
lapp
nom
McK
ussi
ce s
to th
e co
rsta
s an
gure
mea
mber
s, c
erde
hen
wled
ose
esp
c
19
new
f th
Aus
m th
s c
long
ing
my (
Keac
ion
stud
he c
ontin
and
nd e
e 1
asur
r, w
crea
evel
n de
dge
eles
ons
cons
957)
w d
he
sube
his
cons
g a c
leve
(Blo
chie
on
dent
con
nuu
ing
val
re o
whil
ativ
lope
esig
e th
s, a
sibl
sists
). I
data
stro
el,
per
stan
cont
el.
oom
e et
the
ts c
ntex
um
g an
uat
only
le h
ve t
ed.
gnin
hat
and
e te
s
nde
is
ong
19
rspe
nt m
tinuu
m et
t al.
e di
cog
xt of
of
nd a
tion
y lo
high
thin
Hi
ng t
rem
d de
each
of
eed
lin
gest
68;
ectiv
mon
um
t al
., 19
ffer
gnit
f la
cog
app
n)
1
:
ow-l
her-
nkin
ighe
tests
mai
edic
hers
th
, co
nked
an
; A
ve,
nito
from
., 1
986
rent
ive
angu
gnit
plica
leve
-ord
ng
er-o
s an
ins
catio
s.
hree
ogn
d to
nd
Ange
es
orin
m si
956
6). H
t co
gro
uag
tion
atio
el c
der
and
orde
nd p
wi
on t
e s
nitiv
o th
con
elo
tab
g o
mpl
6; B
How
ogn
owt
e cl
n ra
on)
cogn
cog
d p
er f
pro
ithin
to p
step
vist
he a
nsis
an
lish
of i
le to
Bloo
wev
itiv
th, i
lass
ang
to
niti
gnit
prob
fun
vid
n th
pro
ps:
s a
alre
sten
nd C
hing
its p
o com
om
ver,
ve m
it w
sroo
ging
hig
ve
tive
blem
nctio
ding
he
mo
ex
gre
eady
nt i
Cro
g a
pro
mpl
, H
, sin
mod
will
om
g fro
ghe
fun
e ab
m s
ons
g fee
low
ote h
xpe
ee th
y e
ind
oss,
ba
ogre
lex,
asti
nce
dels
suf
and
om
er le
nctio
bilit
solv
m
edb
w-le
high
erien
hat
exis
divid
19
ase-
ess
skil
ing
e the
bu
ffice
d its
the
eve
ons
ties
ving
migh
back
eve
her
nce
the
ting
dua
993
-line
and
lls o
s
e
ut
e
s
e
el
s,
s,
g
ht
k
el
r-
e,
e
g
al
;
e
d
of
367
finally, the redefinition of learning goals and decisions involved in the learning
process.
In accordance with this, ATs shown in the paper range from those used to
establish base-line knowledge to those measuring progression of knowledge at
different cognitive skills.
4. Assessment techniques
This subsection of the paper will provide explicit examples of ATs, adopted
from Angelo and Cross (1993) and adapted for the purpose of assessing students of
the English language at the Faculty of Legal and Business Studies, Novi Sad, in
various linguistic courses.
Based on what they are assessing, the ATs can be classified as assessing:
prior knowledge, recall and understanding
skills in analysis and critical thinking
skills in synthesis and creative thinking
skills in problem solving
skills in application and performance
Due to space constraints, only techniques belonging to the first three groups
will be presented in the subsequent text. Their cognitive demand on the students,
skills being tested, and demand on the teachers will be shown, followed by actual
samples, given in the appendix.
4.1. Assessing prior knowledge
It has already been mentioned that determining the base-line knowledge is
extremely important at any point at which new topics or a new course are to
commence. There are several reasons for this, but the main purposes are to
awaken the already existing schemata, to direct and focus students attention to
key problems to follow and, in cases where that is possible, to re-adjust the course if
needed.
When assessing prior knowledge, it is declarative learning that is being looked
into: content of the particular subject, recall and, to a small degree, understanding of
the investigated topic. These are, as was shown earlier, lower order cognitive
functions, and this is the most often assessed knowledge in classrooms. The reason
for this is, among others, the fact that these techniques are generic and applicable in
most disciplines. Some ATs that can be used at this cognitive level are:
Background Knowledge Probe
Focused Listing
Empty Outlines
Minute Paper
368
Muddiest Point
2
Background Knowledge Probe is an AT that can be used when it is necessary
to check an inventory of closely related knowledge before beginning a course, unit,
topic, or new, important concept. It can be useful to determine the most effective
starting point, if there is flexibility to do this, an appropriate level at which to begin
instruction, as well as to determine the new terminology load, etc. To be effective, it
should be focused and not generalized. Generally, this AT works well with a class of
any size and proficiency levels. Table 1 shows the main features and tips for
constructing such a tool, and comments on positive and negative aspects of the AT.
An example used for assessment when starting a course in English morphology is
given in the appendix (Sample 1).
How to
construct
the AT?
in the form of a handout, overhead projections, or written on the whiteboard
possible items: short answers, open-ended questions, multiple-choice items
important to give at least one question to which all students will have a
correct answer
use less technical and more generic vocabulary
stress that this will not be graded (could even be anonymous), give feedback
as soon as possible
Positive
sides
suitable for class of any size
allows general or focused approach
suitable for beginnings of courses or new topics / concepts
determines base-line knowledge
awakens pre-existing schemata
Negative
sides
may cause negative first impressions (sometimes hard to change)
may disrupt teaching plans
may cause frustration to students with lacking knowledge
Table 1: Background knowledge probe features
4.2. Assessing skill in analysis and critical thinking
In the progression of knowledge acquisition it is of critical importance to assess
analytical skills. They can be observed as results of procedural thinking: analysing
information, questions or problems in order to understand them fully and solve them
more effectively it is the learning of how and why. Actions usually associated
with analytical skills and critical thinking are: classify, describe, discuss, explain,
identify, locate, recognize, report, select, translate, paraphrase, appraise, compare,
contrast, criticize, differentiate, discriminate, distinguish, examine, experiment,
2
Capitalization is used intentionally to emphasize Angelo and Cross original names for the
chosen ATs.
369
question, test. Obviously, tests construed to assess this level of cognition will use
some of the listed actions.
Quite obviously, these ATs will put a greater cognitive demand on the
students. Some of the ATs suitable for this level of cognition are:
Categorizing Grid
Defining Features Matrix
Pro and Con Grid
Content, Form and Function Outlines
Analytic Memos
Categorizing Grid is an AT which tests students ability to sort objects and the
information gained speaks of students sorting rules, which are basic analytic and
organizing skills, upon which more elaborate and demanding analysis skills can be
developed. This AT prompts students to make explicit and implicit rules they use to
categorize information in their memories. This type of exercise allows students an
opportunity to rethink and revise and, in turn, gain more control over what is
remembered, how it is remembered and how well it can be recalled when needed.
Reinforcement of effective categorization and recall is beneficial since it is a
transferable skill that can be used for other subjects and disciplines. Table 2
summarizes tips for constructing such tools and their advantages and disadvantages,
while an actual AT used in the course of Introduction to English Phonetics and
Phonology is given in the appendix (Sample 2).
How to
construct
the AT?
In the form of a grid or table
Select two or three related super-ordinate categories that are particularly
useful for organizing information gained in the class
Give a scrambled list of items belonging to the categories, making sure
each item belongs to only one category
Look for patterns of miscategorization
FOLLOW UP:
Ask students to verbalize why certain items were placed in given categories
as a higher order follow-up activity
ALTERNATIVE:
provide sorted items, ask students to provide superordinate categories
provide categories, have students provide lists of members
Positive
sides
Quick and simple
Flexible: move from general to more specific categories
Reinforces effective organization
Negative
sides
If not challenging (categories or items), may prove to be testing only
memory
Table 2: Categorizing grid features
370
4.3. Assessing skill in synthesis and creative thinking
In literature there is much discussion and speculation when defining creative
thinking, and most teachers, theorists and researchers agree that it is interweaving
the familiar with the new in unexpected and stimulating ways (Angelo and Cross,
1993: 181). In the sense of course-related creativity, it could be argued that students
demonstrate creative thinking by synthesizing prior knowledge and acquired course
content. Assessing creativity may be one of the least tangible tasks, especially when
defining criteria for assessment and grading. However, these ATs will stimulate
students to create and allow teachers to assess students original intellectual
products that result from the synthesis of the course content and the students
intelligence, judgment, knowledge and skills (Angelo and Cross, 1993: 181). The
following ATs are concerned with synthesis and creative thinking:
One-Sentence Summary
Word Journal
Approximate Analogies
Concept maps
Inverted Dialogues
Annotated Portfolio
Word Journal comprises of a two-part response, where the first task is to use
one word to summarize what has been read, while the second task is to explain why
the specific word has been chosen in the length of a paragraph or two. This is an AT
which focuses on students enhancing reading skills, and more specifically, on
careful and deep reading for full comprehension. Also, it develops skills of creativity
at summarizing what has been read, which are transferable skills used in all
academic and real-life situations. Further, this AT sharpens the skills of explaining
and defending by argumentation. It reinforces ability to write highly condensed
abstracts and to partition large amounts of information for more effective storage
and access in long-term memory. This AT presents a high cognitive demand on the
students, while it is relatively easy for teachers to prepare and evaluate. Table 3
contains tips for construction of the tool, advantages and disadvantages of using it,
while the example of usage of this assessment tool is given in the appendix.
How to
construct
the AT?
choose a short text relevant to the topic / problem / course
possible to give a direction to a certain problem, but this is not mandatory
must be thought-provoking to be effective
choice of the word is not as important as is the explanation of the choice
that follows
ALTERNATIVE:
give a list of appropriate words for a given text, allow students to choose
one and justify the choice
could be done as pair work, either the task itself, or the assessment of
finished paragraphs
371
Positive
sides
promotes active learning, deep understanding
personal connection and experience with the text created.
choice and its defence promotes accepting the responsibility for the process
of thinking and learning
important academic and professional skills
Negative
sides
should be used only if reading of the texts and their analysis is of crucial
importance
unless being given the chance to share their work, students will benefit very
little
anonymity is not possible due to the need to argument and communicate
about the choices made
Table 3: Word journal
5. Conclusion
The main aim of this paper was to address the issue of adequate assessment of
students knowledge with respect to the various levels of cognitive functions
involved in language learning. Various assessment techniques, whose primary goal
is to address the issue of efficient learning, have been presented. These assessment
techniques are learner-centered and focus on observing and improving learning, and
at the same time they are teacher-directed: autonomy, academic freedom and
professional judgment of teachers are respected.
These techniques have been proven to enhance the cognitive and metacognitive
growth of students, and have also been found very useful in giving teachers accurate
feedback on the effectiveness of the teaching process. They are a tool enabling a
mutually beneficial process of assessment, with both short and long term effects.
Students reinforce their knowledge and strengthen their skills whereas teachers
sharpen their teaching focus and skills, thus gaining new insights.
Apart from the actual insight into the progress of knowledge acquisition, the
extra effort expended by the teaching staff and relevant information gained through
such assessment result in enhanced student motivation and the minimization of the
negative affective filters, such as stage fright or fear of mistakes. These techniques
provide a tool for the development of in-depth thinking and higher order cognitive
functions, thus making gained knowledge applicable and more readily accessible in
the long term memory. Overall benefits of such assessment techniques by far
outweigh the extra amount of work done by teachers, ensuring boost in their
motivation as well.
372
References
Angelo, T. and Cross, K. (1993). Classroom Assessment Techniques: A Handbook
for College Teachers. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.
Ausubel, D. P. (1968). Educational Psychology: A Cognitive View. Troy, Mo.: Holt,
Reinhart & Winston.
Bachman, L. F.(1990). Fundamental considerations in language testing. Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Bloom, B. S. et al. (1956). Taxonomy of Educational Objectives. Vol. 1: Cognitive
domain. New York: McKay.
Bloom, B. S., Hastings, J. T. and Madaus. G. E. (1971). Handbook on Formative
and Summative Evaluation of Student Learning. New York: McGraw-Hill.
Cohen, A.D. (1994). Assessing Language Ability in the Classroom (2
nd
edn).
Boston: Heinle & Heinle Publishers.
Council of Europe (2001). Common European Framework of Reference for
Languages: Learning, teaching, assessment. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press
Elbow, P. (1993). Ranking, Evaluating, and Liking: Sorting Out Three Forms of
Judgment. College English 55 (2).
Hamp-Lyons, L., Henning, G. (1991). Communicative Writing Profiles: An
Investigation of the Transferability of a Multiple-Trait Scoring Instrument
Across ESL Writing Assessment Context. Language Learning, 41, 3. pp 337-
373
Jonassen, D. H., and Grabowski, B. L. (1993). Handbook of individual differences,
learning, and instruction. Hillsdale, New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum
Associates.
Lonergan, B. J. F. (1957). Insight: a study of human understanding. Oxford:
Philosophical Library.
McKeachie, W. J. et. al. (1986). Teaching and Learning in the College Classroom:
A Review of the Research Literature. Ann Arbor: National Center for Research
to Improve Postsecondary Teaching and Learning, University of Michigan,
Rivers, W. M. (1983). Speaking in Many Tongues (3
rd
ed.). Cambridge: CUP
Speck, B. W. and Jones, T. R (1998). Direction in the Grading of Writing: What
the Literature on the Grading of Writing Does and Doesn't Tell Us in Frances,
Z. (ed). The Theory and Practice of Grading Writing: Problems and
Possibilities. New York: State University of New York Press.
373
Appendix
Samples of ATs used in some linguistic courses at the English Department of
the Faculty of Legal and Business Studies in Novi Sad.
How many questions can you answer? You dont have to sign your paper, this is just a
little exploration into your previous knowledge in morphology!
1. What is the science that studies language called? ______________________
2. Morphology is a __________________ of linguistics.
3. Morphology studies the structure of
a) sentences b) words c) text d) communication
4. Morphology studies the creation of new words. For example:
a) word happiness is made out of building blocks of happy and ness .
b) word politely is made out of building blocks of ___________ and __________ .
c) word impolite is made out of building blocks of ___________ and __________ .
d) word cats is made out of building blocks of ___________ and __________ .
5. How many building blocks does the word impolitely consist of? _______________ .
6. Building blocks of words, such as happy and -ness have meaning. True or false?
7. All building blocks from which words are created are called:
a) morphemes b) phonemes c) lexemes d) affixes
Sample 1: Background knowledge probe - Introduction to English Morphology
1. In the given table, provide information that is missing and answer the question below.
(cells with a line indicate which information should be provided).
The table systematically shows main features of English ____________________ .
2. Sort these phonemes / f, m, , t, d, p, b, , v, l, w, s, z, n / in the table provided:
Which phoneme does not belong to the table? _________________________
labio-dental ___________ alveolar
palato-
alveolar
glottal
_______ f _________
_________
lenis _________ z
bilabial labio-dental dental alveolr
fortis
lenis
Sample 2: Categorizing grid Introduction to English Phonetics and Phonology
374
Read the following text carefully, then choose one word that best summarizes the text.
Justify the choice of the word in a short paragraph, using up to 60 words.
Word that sums up the text is:
_____________________________
Why I chose this word?
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
_____
Sample 3. Word journal Pragmatics and Discourse Analysis
375
PART TWO:
LITERATURE
376
377
Svetozar Koljevi
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
THE INTERNATIONAL THEME IN CONTEMPORARY
SERBIAN LITERATURE
Abstract The civil wars in Yugoslavia at the end of the twentieth century which
caused ethnic cleansing and migrations provided new ground for the treatment of
the international theme. This is reflected in three Canadian novels by David
Albahari (The Snow Man, 1995; Bait, 1996; Globetrotter, 2001) and in Vladimir
Tasis A Farewell Gift (2001) in which the dissolution of ex-Yugoslavia is set
against the Canadian background. Milovan Danojli tells his largely
autobiographical story as a Serbian migr in France in his novel My Adventure
(2002). At the same time several other writers of historical novels Eliezer Papo,
Ranko Risojevi, Maksimilijan Ostoji-Erenrajh and Ivan Ivanji also touch on the
theme of different cultures and ideologies in close contacts.
Key words: the international theme, cultures, clashes, conflicts misunderstan-
dings, decency, solidarity, communication.
1. Springs of bewilderment
Various kinds of national prejudice have often been shaped in the history of
European literature as the ridicule of everything foreign, strange, and therefore
incomprehensible. French good manners and pronunciation are immortalized as
affectation in Chaucers Madame Eglantine. The French pretentious cult of high
literacy is mirrored in Shakespeares Prince Dauphin who writes a sonnet to his
horse; and French erotic games figure as sexual perversities in Tolstoys Monsieur
Rambale. What some typical Italian features looked like in English eyes is reflected
in Iago and many other characters from Volpone to Al Capone. Finally, Shakespeare
and his contemporaries were seen as barbarians by Voltaire and Tolstoy. However,
among the pioneering treacheries of this literary tradition were the works of Henry
James with their new multicultural approach to what has been called the
international theme,
1
the inevitable cultural misunderstandings of people in close
personal contact. This marked the beginning of a different great tradition pursued
1
See Richard P. Blackmur, Introduction to Henry James, The Art of the Novel Critical
Prefaces, Charles Scribners Sons, New York London, 1950, p. XIX.
378
later in very different social, cultural and historical contexts, by Joseph Conrad, E.
M. Forster, Jorge Luis Borges, Salman Rushdie, and others.
In Serbian literature the treatment of the international theme in terms of
comic misunderstandings was first exploited in Jovan Sterija Popovis comedies
Lying and Paralying (Laa i paralaa, 1830) and An Upstart (Pokondirena tikva,
1838) mainly as a pretentious affectation of the language and manners of a high
foreign culture. Later it was developed in different directions by Milo Crnjanski
and Ivo Andri. Both volumes of Crnjanskis novel Migrations (I 1929, II 1962)
deal with Serbian migrations in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in which
large Serbian communities left their homeland and settled in different cultural
environments in Habsburg Monarchy or Russia. Crnjanskis Novel of London (1971)
is also inspired by various aspects of the international theme, but it is mainly
based on his own personal experience of living in England during World War II. Ivo
Andri exploited the international theme in his two major historical novels (The
Bridge on the Drina 1945; The Bosnian Story 1945) and in many of his short
stories (The Letter from 1920 1948; The Viziers Elephant 1948; and
others). In his fiction the international theme is shaped in the personal relations of
the people living together but belonging to different cultures in Bosnia. Unlike H.
James, J. Conrad, E. M. Forster and S. Rushdie, he did not have to cross the Atlantic
Ocean, go to South America or India in search of his international theme. He
could just sit in the down town of Sarajevo and listen to the different church clocks
ominously striking different hours, days and years according to Orthodox, Catholic
and Islamic time-reckoning and make his own calculations about the Jewish
calendar, as he did in his short story The Letter from 1920.
The recent historical turmoil civil wars, foreign peace-keeping missions
(combined with bombing), ethnic cleansing and huge migrations of the civilian
population at the end of the twentieth century provided new arenas and vistas for
the treatment of the international theme in Serbian literature. Some writers like
David Albahari and Vladimir Tasi left for Canada and their new migr
environment is reflected in their fiction. The first of Albaharis Canadian novels
The Snow Man (1995) was written while the author lived in Calgary on a grant of
Markin-Flanagen Program for Distinguished Writers. The narrator, a Serbian writer
and the bewildered, unheroic hero of the novel, comes as a visiting lecturer to a
Canadian university after the dissolution of Yugoslavia. He feels that his own life is
falling apart together with the history of his country, his ex-country (Albahari 1995:
34).
2
He is in a panic, suspecting that he himself is no longer one man, one human
being, but many people and many human beings, so that he is looking at
everything from several angles in the infinity of multiplied moments, each of his
thoughts becoming immediately many thoughts, sufficiently different to stop him
2
The page references for the following quotations from this novel are given in brackets in the
text.
379
from accepting any one of them and, leaving him in the end hollow, tortured, an
empty shell, like wreckage (34).
At the same time he is bewildered by everything in his new environment: his
Canadian colleagues are so kind that he is worried that he wont be able to live in
that country, because he could never be sincere and tell anyone how much he hates
him (16). And when he asks his colleague, a professor of political science, whether
people have to go mad if the state goes mad, he is deeply hurt by the cruel, if
inevitable answer that people have to go mad first, before the state does (34). His
colleague also points out that no institution can survive the downfall of a state, that
the parts of its body cannot hold together while the state is falling apart (2021),
that the state which depends on the heart is bound to fall apart, because the heart
has been superseded (21); and, of course, he takes this proposition as a personal
insult.
And when the Dean of the Faculty supports this view by adding that the heart
is an anarchist, he begins to feel that he may have been wrong the previous evening
when he came to the conclusion that he could never tell anyone that he hates him
in Canada (21)! However, a little later he consoles himself by the idea that if his
country has gone mad, so has Canada: Some people are driven mad by chaos, and
some by geometry (44). The implied parallel between chaos and geometry (as
petrified order) illustrates a typical difference, and perhaps a misunderstanding,
between the two cultures and their points of view. Moreover, when the professor of
political science begins to explain the dissolution of the narrators ex-country by
telling him that his country was an unsuccessful experiment (36) in the laboratory
of history, the narrator feels like striking him over the head with a wine bottle
(37), and this idea perhaps not surprisingly helps him to calm down!
The Serbian visiting lecturer is also irritated by many other phenomena such
as the merciless time-table of his duties: he is expected to give a lecture at ten,
participate in an informal meeting with the representatives of various ethnic groups
at two, attend a lecture on federalism at half past four, and comment on a film about
his country at six oclock (60). Is his irritation an ironic comment on the easy-going
academic life in ex-Yugoslavia where a professors only duty used to be to teach
four classes a week? The narrator used to highly emotional relations with other
people at home is also repeatedly worried that he would grow old in Canada
(47, 54, 67, 74, 109, 123), in a country in which as one of his Canadian neighbours
put it we are all strangers (69). Finally, why are all his students so indifferent to
whatever he has to tell them in his lecture? Is it because they live in a world in
which there is no history and the present moment seems to be the only thing which
matters?
The second of Albaharis Canadian novels Bait (1996) takes the form of
the narrators listening in Canada to the tape-recorded confessions of his
mothers life story. The narrator is again a Serbian writer of Jewish origin, driven
out of his mind by the dissolution of his ex-country, and his mother the victim of
many horrors of Balkan (and not only Balkan) twentieth-century history is in his
380
eyes an ideal, firm and resolute person in the prevailing chaos of her environment.
Born as a Serbian girl in a village near Derventa in Bosnia, she decided to marry a
Jew, to give up her name of Mara and become Miriam at the time when German
cannons were roaring and Hitler was biting at the little bits of Europe (23). At
this time she happened to live in Zagreb, doubly alien (Albahari 1996: 55)
3
(of
Serbian origin, and a recently converted Jew) among Croats. But she was always
ready to face whatever may befall her, always grateful for whatever little joys life
had to offer even if she knew that one cannot live on dreams (47), and that
hope was not happiness (95).
The narrator discusses various issues of his mothers life story with his
Canadian fellow-writer Donald who, as a Canadian, had no idea of history, but
was very keen on explaining it (72). When the narrator tells Donald that his
mother claimed that Hitlers soldiers were welcomed with flowers and chocolate
(18) in Zagreb, Donald, obsessed by facts rather than by meaning, insists on
verifying if there was really any chocolate (19) and not just flowers on this
occasion. Be that as it may, during the German occupation, in Hitlers Croatian
puppet state, ironically enough, the narrators mother had to become a Serb again
(56) and persuade her children that they were not Jews. This was how she managed
to escape with her husband and children to Belgrade, but her husband was soon shot
in a German concentration camp and their children were killed in a railway accident
(29).
All these fragments of Balkan history seem to explain the dissolution of the
country, but the explanation is strongly coloured by the foreign environment in
which it is given. To begin with, living abroad the narrator discovers as he did in
his previous novel that he is personally falling to pieces and begins to exist
simultaneously in many places, in different times (44). At the same time he begins
to suspect that nothing can delude a man as much as his belief that he is the master
of his language (45). On the contrary, a new language has become his master,
which makes him adapt himself to its own requirements (45). As he himself puts
it: I am becoming another personality (45). He also feels that he is getting smaller
and smaller ever since he stopped speaking his own language (36).
In Globetrotter (2001) the last of his Canadian novels Albahari revives
the theme of the dissolution of his ex-homeland in long discussions and ruminations
of a Canadian painter, a Serbian writer (of Jewish origin), and a grandson of a
Croatian Nazi (ustaa). But this time it is the Canadian painter who is the narrator
of the story which takes place in a conventional Canadian art centre where the
Serbian writer, named Daniel Atijas, comes as a visitor. Daniel is a treble alien: as
a Serb of Jewish origin, and as a man who has no homeland to look backward to. He
consoles himself, however, by the idea that everyone has his own hell, (Albahari
3
The page references for the following quotations from this novel are given in brackets in the
text.
381
2001: 10)
4
when his Canadian friend tells him how much he was worried by the
referendum for the session of Quebec (10).
However, the novel centres on the personal dramas of the Canadian painter, the
Serbian writer Daniel Atijas and a Croatian migr that Daniel comes across almost,
but not quite, by chance. When Daniels Canadian friend and erotic admirer keen
on spending almost the whole day with him visiting museums, galleries,
bookshops and historical monuments (32) takes him to the local Animal
Museum, Daniel notes that in the visitors book someone called Ivan Mateli wrote
down his name on June 2, 1924, adding that he was a globetrotter who came from
Croatia. For Daniel this is a shock because the visitor did not put down the name of
the country he came from, but the name of one of its regions, which suggests to
Daniel that his country began to fall apart before it was properly put together (30).
At this moment Daniel remembers that in the beginning was the Word (The
Gospel according to John 1: 3) and wonders if the visitors Word may have
already marked the end of his homeland.
The Canadian painter notes Daniels curiosity and excitement, but he can
hardly be expected to suppose that Daniel would not like further contacts which
might enable him to find out more about his Croatian countryman. So he takes
Daniel in spite of his initial opposition to his intention (35) to the museums
office, convinced that this would be appreciated, even though Daniel gives clear
signs of his desire to avoid it. The result of this misunderstanding is that an
acquaintance of the Canadian painter, eager to oblige, finds the address of Ivan
Matelis grandson who lives in the vicinity and who soon appears to meet his ex-
countryman. It turns out, however, that the grandson has a personal story which
partly explains how the disintegration of Yugoslavia started and what it was all
about.
The grandsons story is full of misunderstandings: it was only at the beginning
of the civil war in ex-Yugoslavia that he began to follow the news, to remember
the Croatian words which, he was convinced, he had forgotten a long time ago
(105). His father was delighted that his son asked him to speak only Croatian to
him at least for an hour a day (107) and that he began to collect humanitarian aid
for Croatian refugees (107). Admittedly, when he saw several of his countrymen
beating two young Serbs in Canada, he could not stop vomiting (107), so that his
decision to go to Croatia during the war was modified. He realized he could not fight
on the front line, and decided to join a humanitarian organisation to help the country
of his origin. His experience of the war, of its cruelty and lies, was disappointing,
and after research into family history he discovered that his grandfather was a
Croatian Nazi (ustaa), who took part in the massacre of Serbs, Jews and Gypsies
during the World War II. He even found the bones of a human finger in his
grandfathers fountain pen case (118). This made him realize the nature of his
4
The page references for the following quotations from this novel are given in brackets in the
text.
382
national commitment and he was fully prepared to face it and tell his shameful story
to Daniel Atijas. Daniel appreciates his confessions, he and the grandson of Ivan
Mateli become close friends and the Canadian painter is driven mad with
jealousy when he gets a glimpse of the two walking in front of him, with Daniels
hand on the grandsons shoulder. This particular scene may be also an example of an
international and personal misunderstanding, considering that putting your hand on
your friends shoulder and in many Balkan social circles even kissing may not
mean anything more than a handshake in the West.
2. History as farce
Vladimir Tasi born in Novi Sad in 1965 took his Ph. D. in mathematics in
Canada where he teaches at New Brunswick University. In his novel A Farewell Gift
history is not, like in Albaharis fiction, a spring of bewilderment it is a farce. The
narrators escape from Serbia is not a blind plunge from one hell to another, but a
perplexing displacement from a joke about chaos to a joke about geometry
(order). The joke about chaos is reflected in the narrators historical associations
such as his explanation of the assassination of Prince Ferdinand in Sarajevo in 1914.
Ferdinand is described as a stupid Prince-apparent, who is denied by even more
stupid Austrian laws the right to present his wife on official occasions because she is
just a countess (despised as an unworthy companion by the Austrian court).
However, as the supreme commander of the Austrian army Prince Ferdinand takes
advantage of a loophole in military regulations and, following the voice of his silly
heart, he decides to share with his wife some of the honours due to him and takes her
on a very dangerous journey to Sarajevo. Both will be shot by extremely inept
Serbian patriotic idiots the first pistolero will not draw out his pistol in time
(Tasi 2001: 83)
5
, the second one will take pity on the Princes wife and go to eat a
meat-stuffed pie (popular burek 83), the third one will throw his bomb but miss
the target of the Princes big car, and even the assassin would not have completed
his job if the driver had not tried to reverse the car at a dangerous corner. Prince
Ferdinand, denied the royal grave, will be buried in a damned provincial hole called
Arschteten (83), but owing to the clash of financial interests between the powerful
Hungarian and Serbian butchers who exported pork, his assassination will be turned
into an excuse for World War I.
When the story moves from the contemporary and historical traps of the jokes
of the Balkan chaos, it has to face the farce of the Canadian jokes of geometry
(order).
To begin with, Canada is a place .where winter reigns forever, where
coldness is felt at first like menthol freshness which turns quickly into pain, dull in
5
The page references for the following quotations from this novel are given in brackets in the
text.
383
the teeth and cheeks, sharp in the throat; the shrinking of capillaries starts as a
tickling in the nose and eyes; hoar frost is deposited on the eye-lashes; a breath of
wind is enough for the freezing of your ears and the tips of your fingers (47). But,
of course, if you are driving through a town everything will look idyllic. You
observe landscapes from the world of Christmas cards the little wooden houses
built in pseudo-colonial style, the silver tunnels of branches overlaid by ice, the
bright flowers of frost on window-panes; a skating rink on the lake in the park (47).
Within this idyllic framework a yellow bus stops to pick up a schoolgirl who
embraces her dog, a chocolate-coloured Labrador retriever (48) as if they were
parting for life.
Finally, the story of A Farewell Gift opens and ends with scenes which provide
the intellectual framework for the narrators descriptions of his experience with a
foreign culture. A postman delivers a packet at the threshold of his house, the
narrator signs the form, but he is surprised that it is addressed to his name. He often
gets bills, but his wife, who is a potter, is the only receiver of packets in their
Canadian home the packets containing the stuff for glazing pottery, named
Evening Shadow, Burnt Sugar, Indian Summer, Old Copper (7), and so on.
However, this packet is a box within a box, and the inner box contains the ashes of
the narrators late brother, who never contacted him in Canada, even if he obviously
had his address. The letter in the packet is written by a humanitarian organization
which legally collects the organs of the diseased. In its bureaucratic wording
which upsets the narrator very much it expresses condolences to the Honourable
Closest Relative of the Diseased and tells him that he can get in touch with their
service for contact with the customers seven days a week, 24 hours a day, if he has
any questions (12) to ask. The narrator removes the letter from the packet and puts
it into the pocket of his shirt. When he tries later to make inquiries about his
brothers death, he is told that they are talking to other customers at the moment
(87), then he is exposed to listening to the advertising of their services in the
transplantation of human organs, and is finally informed that his brothers death was
caused by cardiomyopathy of unknown origin (86).
When he comes back home in the evening, he finds that the box with his
brothers ashes is empty. His wife thanks him enthusiastically for the most
wonderful gift which she has ever been given (131), and he realizes that she has
already used his brothers ashes for glazing her pottery with marvellous effect. He
feels that he has to tell her the truth. He remembers how important human ashes
were in the history of glazing and tries to convince her that his late brother would
have appreciated the opportunity of giving her such a marvellous and such a
disinterested farewell gift in fact an ideal gift from his brothers point of view
because he himself had written a long article on the distinction between real gifts for
which nothing is expected and the more frequent ones which verge on blackmail.
The wife is not overenthusiastic about this story, which partly illustrates
characteristic personal misunderstandings. But it also embodies the general
intellectual framework of the novel because it assumes at every step that history is a
384
farce, that coincidences and misunderstandings embody the major aspects of human
condition and destiny. Does this suggest that the Canadian idyll was for the narrator
an ironic blessing?
3. The end of the world?
In his largely autobiographical novel My Adventure A Confession in Two
Different Voices (2002) Milovan Danojli tells the story of why he decided to
leave his native country and settle in France, the story of his disappointment in his
own idealization of the West and his discovery that no one can turn ones own back
on himself (Danojli 2002: 27).
6
At the beginning the hero of the story is worried
by the fact that he himself is a literate descendent of the illiterate nameless
ancestors, shepherds, outlaws and peddlers who had never seen anything but the
showers of rain and the waving of tree-tops in the woods, who had never heard
anything but their monotonous decasyllabic songs which did not change for
centuries (18). But when he began reading foreign newspapers, he realized their
limitations in their reporting on Serbia, but consoled himself with a smile or with the
afterthought that one could hardly expect intelligent and perceptive reporting on
such a cursed, lawless country (20).
However, when he settled in Paris it turned out that many of his assessments of
the advantages of life in the West were rash and mistaken (28), and his ability to
digest the horrors and stupidities of Western press, life, culture and politics was
weakened. So the international theme began to emerge not only in the foreground
but also in many details of the story and the ideals of multiculturalism which it
implied at the beginning. The trouble began in innocent personal relations: in Paris
a smile could be offered to anyone, particularly in shops, but one kept ones
thoughts to oneself (85); cordiality and sincerity (...) were looked upon as the
features of lower spiritual and intellectual development (85). Of course, such
misunderstandings were partly due to the heros idealized vision of distant lands and
cultures: The grass is greener on the other side. But the barrier to his
communication with other people grew also because of this commitment to his
crucified homeland when the Western media began to spread appalling lies about the
civil wars in ex-Yugoslavia. Friends and acquaintances were fewer and fewer, and
he himself drove away those who failed to retreat in order to spare them their
hypocritical mumbling and their miserable excuses (441). Finally, he felt that
people could stand him only if he did not take off the mask of guilt which they put
on his face (506).
When the bombing of Serbia started in 1999, he began to wonder why he was
surprised considering that it was done in 1941, and in 1944, and in 1995, why not
6
The page references for the following quotations from this novel are given in brackets in the
text.
385
in 1999 (425)? But he was surprised, in spite of everything he knew about the
selfishness and arrogance of those in power, because he believed that the
hypocrites were unwilling to undertake the steps which would unmask them to the
end (424). However, it was not only the executors but also the reporters on what
and why this was done in Serbia who reached the culmination of hypocrisy: the
military operation under the title of Merciful Angel (474) was undertaken in order to
establish several strategically important Western military bases in Kosovo (472),
but it was played as a peace-keeping mission and a journalistic farce in which the
killed innocent civilians were referred to as collateral damage. It is in this context
that the hero of the story was faced with the dilemma of whether to betray his
country, or to show his ingratitude to France which offered him hospitality at a time
of a great historical crisis.
In this situation his earlier escape from his country appeared in a new light: he
began to see himself as one of the first, most intelligent rats (426) which had left
the sinking ship in the mid-eighties. He remembered that at the beginning of Titos
reign hundreds of thousands of his (Titos) political opponents, real and potential,
were killed (456), that eighty thousand peasants were imprisoned, that thirty
thousand of Titos own followers were exposed to tortures on the island of Goli
Otok (456), but no one in the West seemed to notice this: no one used such words
as dictatorship and totalitarianism in describing the life-long President of the
Republic (456). Moreover Tito was buried with highest international honours as a
hero of the twentieth century (448) for stabbing the Russian bear in the back
(448) and always indicating that he was to turn left whenever he was turning right
(456), particularly while starting the non-aligned movement. Fuck the century in
which he was a hero (448) is the narrators comment. However, the Serbian leader
at the time of the civil wars a student in the Faculty in which professors spent
their entire professional life trying to justify revolutionary lawlessness (449) was
fatal for the Serbian people. He supported and cherished the foolishness of his
countrymen who believed that bare hands and crazy perseverance were sufficient
for the defence of national dignity (10) against the most powerful military forces
in the world.
Finally, the hero of My Adventure comes to the conclusion that blessed is the
man who knows how to suffer the limitations assigned to him by his family,
environment, governmental set-up, and social framework (29). After all, it is
nobodys birthright to ask for conditions which his environment should fulfil for
his arrival (29). Such a breakdown in personal and international communication, due
to historical and political turmoil, results in the heros lasting puzzlement and,
finally leads him to the suspicion that he can hardly communicate with himself. This
is how a historical drama finds its expression in Danojlis novel in terms of a
personal tragedy with international and cosmic implications, suggesting that perhaps
God should try his next experiment with a blade of grass, an ant, a worm
(499), but certainly not with a specimen of the human race. This seems to be the
final personal, historical and cosmic farewell of Danojlis fiction to the
international theme.
386
4. Is multiculturalism dead?
In Albaharis, Tasis and Danojlis novels the interplay of the Babylonian
mutual misunderstandings of natives and foreigners is in the foreground as the
backbone of their largely, or partly, autobiographical stories. But in some Serbian
historical novels written at this time the question of the possibilities of
communication between people belonging to different nations and cultures also
appears from time to time, frequently within a political and/or warlike framework.
So, for instance, in his historical novel Eliezer Papo writes about the life of
Sephardic Jews in Bosnia (The Sarajevo Tombstone, 2001) from the times when
they were expelled from Spain in the fifteenth century to the time when they left
Sarajevo in convoys during the civil war in Bosnia at the end of the twentieth
century. Sometimes the international theme appears in this novel in nostalgic and
sometime in humorous terms, but it is, like in several other contemporary Serbian
novels, rich in the depth of Jewish historical experience. In one of the opening
scenes in which a Jew with his wife hurries up to get from Dubrovnik to Sarajevo,
they are met by a dozen armed outlaws, who threaten their guide that he will be
punished for bringing Turks into Bosnia! After being told that they were not Turks,
the outlaws are puzzled: they must be Turks if they were expelled from Spain which
is a Christian country! Besides, two different crosses and a crescent make enough
confusion in Bosnia, so there is certainly no need for one more holy emblem. This is
followed by the outlaw voice of reconciliation: everybody tries to escape from his
own Turks; arent the Jews doing the same as we outlaws? But the Jewish couple
should be told that they have entered the house with many masters: They will find
it difficult until they get used to it and even more difficult then! (Papo 2001: 13)
7
It turns out later that one of the Jewish refugees seems both happy and unhappy
about their exile: We have managed to leave Spain but Spain will be unwilling to
leave us for a long time (49). And in the closing scene of this story some Jews
remember with nostalgia the richness of their Spanish historical heritage: while they
are paying head-tax (236) to those who let them get out of the local Bosnian
horrors in 1992, one of the prospective Jewish refugees reminds his fellow-travellers
that they would not have known a single Spanish romance (236) if they had not
spent so much time in Spain! And owing to the fact that they stayed in the Balkans
for four or five centuries, they will remember some wonderful love songs
(sevdalinke). At this moment two old men begin to sing the well-known popular
hymn to ex-Yugoslavia: Jugoslavijo, Jugoslavijo (237). Partly with conviction.
Partly with nostalgia. Partly in defiance. And perhaps just as it came, somehow
humanly without deep wisdom or reason (237).
In Ranko Risojevis novel The Bosnian Hangman (2004) we also get
occasional echoes of the Bosnian version of the international theme. At the
7
The page references for the following quotations from this novel are given in brackets in the
text.
387
beginning of the Austrian occupation many people administrators, soldiers,
policemen, tradesmen, craftsmen and others came to Bosnia from all over the
Austro-Hungarian Empire, and they got a collective nickname: kuferai (suitcase
people). Among the newcomers was Alois Seifrid, the official state-employed
hangman, not perhaps a typical Austrian by his craft, but he yodelled popular
Austrian songs, brought his typical Austrian musical instrument (zithra) with him,
and remembered his fathers advice to master perfectly the technique of whatever he
was going to do in his life. So he approached the art of hanging people with Austrian
pedantry, including the study of anatomy in order to spare the victim unnecessary
suffering. His discussion with his colleague, his Turkish predecessor Mustafa, offers
an interesting example of mutual international misunderstanding. Seifrid argues
that hanging should be as quick and as painless as possible, far from the madding
crowd, but Mustafa argues that it should be made as painful and and last as long as
possible, because there are crimes for which the death sentence is not an adequate
punishment. Besides, it would be a pity to deprive the public of such wonderful
entertainment: just look how much children enjoy their cruel games torturing cats!
Of course, they can never agree: for Seifrid Mustafa stands for Oriental cruelty
and Europe is, of course, different! (Risojevi 2004: 63) In the light of its
twentieth-century experience Europe is, of course, different, if only in Seifrids
technical sense no knives and ropes were extensively used.
In Maksimilijan Erenrajh-Ostojis novel Confidential Report (1999) the
international theme turns up in his descriptions of the effects of foreign occupation
on the personal dilemmas and moral failures of a very ordinary human being. The
narrator, largely the authors self-portrait, a young man of half Jewish origin
(Erenrajh-Ostoji 1999: 58),
8
appears in the opening scene during the German
bombing of Belgrade on April 6 1941, running away together with his mother and
sister, from the centre of the city which was the main target of the air-attack. On
their way, in a crater caused by an explosion, the hero spots several moving fingers
just above the surface of a heap of debris, but he instinctively fails to stop and try to
help the dying victim maddened by bombs, by pieces of human bodies hanging on
the trees, by the chirping of invisible birds, by the impulse to run for his own life, by
a delicate feeling that he cannot stop his family in its flight. And several similar
incidents follow in the story, the most moving is perhaps his failure to help Veljko,
his lame best friend from his early boyhood, in his need. As a communist Veljko
collaborates with the resistance movement, and after one of his comrades is
arrested, Veljko is worried that he may have, under the pressure of torture, betrayed
him to the police. When he comes to ask the narrator to let him spend the night in
his office in the storehouse, the narrator feels that he could not risk it, because he
had his mother and sister, and, moreover, was half Jewish by origin (58). At the
same time he was fully aware that he was denying to such a close friend the help
8
The page references for the following quotations from this novel are given in brackets in the
text.
388
which he must have offered him at all cost (59). And it is with such awareness that
he secretly follows his friend but not in order to tell him that he had changed his
mind, but to make sure that he would not come back (59). However, the novel
ends on a note of the triumph of ordinary human solidarity over ideological
commitments. Petar, a truck-driver, who never concealed his admiration of Russia
and Stalin, helps Ernest, an electrician who bragged with Hakenkreuz and other Nazi
decorations during the occupation, in his great misfortune. Ernests wife is mortally
ill, the last train for German civilians is to leave Belgrade on the next day, and
Ernest tries to console himself that he never did any harm to anyone, so that he
could perhaps stay with his wife and his two daughters in Belgrade. But Petar
reminds him of his Nazi decorations and attitudes during the war and persuades him
to leave and so save his own life and secure the future for his daughters. Moreover,
Petar offers his home as a shelter for Ernests wife and tries to get medical help for
her. All this seems to show that ordinary, uneducated people are sufficiently humane
to care more for one another than for their political illusions. Does this seem to
suggest that multiculturalism in its elementary human form may not be impossible,
particularly if you do not take your own political attitudes more seriously than they
deserve?
Ivan Ivanji, born in 1929 in Zrenjanin (Vojvodina), of Jewish origin, had first-
hand experience of the German concentration camps (Auschwitz, Buchenwald). He
was a student of German, a teacher, a journalist, a dramaturge, Assistant Director of
the National Theatre in Belgrade, a diplomat and Titos interpreter for German. His
novel The Governess (2002) reflects some major aspects of European history such as
the unemployment in the early thirties, Hitlers successful beginning of war
operations, the massacre of Jews, the work of German Secret Police, German
invasion of Russia, the victory of the Soviet army and its consequences in Eastern
Europe. The Governess opens with a sketch of what seems to be a multicultural idyll
in the authors native region of Vojvodina before World War II, and then describes
its breakdown under the pressure of both Nazi and communist ideologies and
massacres. The horrors of history make dramatic impacts on the personal lives of
major characters who strive to preserve the remnants of their instinctive human
decency and solidarity in spite of the prevailing hatred and intolerance.
Ilse, a young and educated Austrian girl of aristocratic origin, has to provide
for herself after her fathers death in the early thirties. She cannot find any kind of
work in Austria, and after living for some time in a state of shabby gentility, she
accepts the offer of a job made by Morits Keleti, a rich Jewish owner of a sugar
factory in a town in Vojvodina on the river Begej. When she begins to work as his
sons governess, she seems pleased, but an ominous afterthought echoes in her head:
If only they were not Jews! (Ivanji 2002: 16) She consoles herself by a highly
ambivalent kind of forgiveness: they often ate pork, they did not pray before meals,
they never went to the synagogue (16).
Immediately after the German invasion of Yugoslavia in April 1941, as a
distinguished member of the German local community in the town her aristocratic
origin and the way she spoke German were impressive she was offered to work as
389
a secretary of a German lieutenant colonel who was the head of the local Gestapo.
She accepted the offer because it was the only way in which she could possibly help
the Jewish family she was attached to and she asked her superior to spare their lives.
As a high-ranking German officer, he was above local personal hidden hatreds, and
he told her that Morits Keleti had already been hanged, but that he would make it
possible for his wife Goldi and their son Victor to get away and take their valuables
without the interference of the customs officers. And so Ilse escorts Victor and his
mother to the border with Banat, but Victor, her pupil, at the age of about twelve,
tells her when they part that she has betrayed them by deciding to stay with the
Nazis.
Ilse survived the horrors of the partisan camp in which rats ate the toes of
sleeping people, and she later obtained an administrative job in a partisan hospital.
But she lost it when no foreigner could get a permit to be employed in Yugoslavia
and went back to Austria, found some sort of administrative work, at first in a
hospital for German refugees, and later in a Viennese clinic. When she retired about
forty years later her life came full circle: she lived in a modest way, finally with
enough time to read her favourite books, especially poetry. But one day she
discovered a billboard announcing a great exhibition of the internationally famous
architect Victor Keleti, her ex-pupil. When she turned up at the exhibition
impeccably dressed for the great occasion Victor gave her cold shoulder. But
when he learned that she was not a traitor but the saviour of his and his mothers
life, he embraced her as an old friend. Professionally successful, but an emotional
wreck after his two broken marriages, he asked her to come and take care of his
household, so that the story really came full circle for Ilse.
In short, an ex-clerk of the Gestapo and one of the Jewish survivors of Hitlers
racial hatred, come to live together in mutual understanding and deep attachment to
their common memories. What was it that kept them together? Ilses fundamental
human decency in spite of her acceptance of handling papers in a Gestapo office?
Victors realization of how unjust he was when he believed that Ilse was a traitor of
his family? His failures in personal life in spite of his professional success? The
horrors of their respective concentration camp experience? Or simply their old-age
loneliness, their human need to share the remnants of what they might have been
with each other? And what are the implications of their belated union? Ironic and
pathetic as the international theme appears within this framework, it suggests
that the multiethnic and multicultural instinct to help another human being in
distress may sometimes cross the borders of political conflicts, even if it has to be
reduced to a fairly rudimentary form of solidarity in defying the horror of historical
realities. In this sense The Governess is distantly analogous to Erenrajh-Ostojis
novel Confidential Report both suggest a breakthrough of ideological frontiers and
even personal convictions. And they are both marked by a thirst for communication
which is also a major feature of Albaharis and Tasis fiction, in which the heroes
at least attempt to cross the barriers dividing chaos and geometry.
Finally, some of the contemporary Serbian historical novels like Papos
Sarajevo Tombstone or Risojevis Bosnian Hangman suggest that the tragic
historical aspects of the international theme foreshadow the horrors of more recent
390
times. The expulsion of the Jewish population from Spain in the fifteenth century,
the way the Jewish refugees find a common language with Bosnian outlaws in
Papos novel, the way the Austrian hangman advocated the idea of progress in the
technical advancement in hanging people in Risojevis novel also have
contemporary resonance. And what about the argument of the Turkish hangman that
some culprits should be tortured because the death sentence is rather a reward than
an adequate punishment for some crimes? Is the death sentence, for instance,
sufficient punishment for someone who presses a button and kills thousands of
people? And is the man pressing the button really responsible for what he is doing?
And what about the question posed in Danojlis My Adventure: can one expect
a special arrangement for ones arrival in this world, or should one look for
happiness in his immediate environment (such as it is) rather than try to escape to an
unknown, never-never land which is always easier to idealize? And, finally, should
one pray that God may try his next cosmic experiment on blades of grass and birds
rather than on a human being? But in the meantime, before God makes a more
promising experiment, we have to realize that multiculturalism is still alive and
kicking, in spite of what a few weeks ago some major European political leaders
had the misfortune to announce in public. And it has been alive and kicking for
several thousand years: for instance, in the bequest of antiquity, of old Greece
and Rome, indeed of the whole Mediterranean basin, to the contemporary culture of
Western Europe, And what about the Western European bequest to the cultures of
America? What about pizza as popular fast food in Korea? Multiculturalism is, in
short, alive, sychronically and diachronically, because it is the inevitable destiny of
humanity, due to tolerance and intolerance, to wars and arts, to education and
manipulation, and to the deepest human physical and spiritual instincts. And if
multiculturalism is not taken up as a challenge of human destiny, it can easily end
up, as it has often ended up, as human fate.
References
Albahari, D. (1995). Sneni ovek. Beograd: Vreme knjige.
Albahari, D. (1996). Mamac. Beograd: Stubovi kulture.
Albahari, D. (2001). Svetski putnik. Beograd: Vreme knjige.
Blackmur, R. P. (1950). Introduction to Henry James. In: The Art of the Novel
Critical Prefaces. New York-London: Charles Scribners Sons.
Danojli, M. (2002). Pustolovina ili ispovest u dva glasa. Beograd: Filip Vinji.
Erenrajh-Ostoji, M. (1989). Karakteristika. Beograd: Rad.
Ivanji, Ivan. (2002). Guvernanta. Beograd: Stubovi kulture.
Papo, E. (2001). Sarajevska megila. Beograd: Centar za stvaralatvo mladih.
Risojevi, R. (2004). Bosanski delat Ein Bosnien Scharfrichter. Banja Luka: Glas
srpski Grafika.
Tasi, V. (2001). Oprotajni dar. Novi Sad: Svetovi.
391
Vesna Brankovi
Doboj, Bosna i Hercegovina
[email protected]
CONSERVATISM AND OPPORTUNISM IN THE AMERICAN COUNTRY
MUSIC TEXTS
Abstract The American country music texts represent the stratification of the
American society, especially the working class. They can influence the forming of
some language attitudes of that class. The aim of this paper is to show the most
common topics of the lyrics which show what problems, attitudes and believes of its
followers are illustrated in the most popular texts, then to demonstrate how those
texts picture the American working class.
Using qualitative-quantitative method and about thirty most popular lyrics, we will,
first, show the topics in the texts which the followers are willing to listen to, such as:
family life, poverty, hard work, country-town lyrics. Then we will illustrate the
conservative and opportunistic working class society which those texts picture.
Key words: American country music, sociolinguistics, opportunism, conservatism,
working class
1. Introduction
Any kind of music can be easily compared with the human communication
process. The human communication process is a system that involves an
interrelated, interdependent group of elements working together as a whole to
achieve a desired outcome, which is to send a message. It could be said that there are
five elements in achieving a desired outcome and these are: a source, which sends a
message, through channel(s), to a receiver, who responds via feedback to the
message. As compared to the country music lyrics we can say the following.
1.1 The source of the message: the authors/performers of the American country
music texts
In any kind of music and in the American country music as well, the sources of
the message are their performers/authors. At the beginning of the American country
music, its performers were the working class people whose hobby was country
music (Malone 2002: 3). Later, by becoming professionals most of the country
music performers originated from the working class families and before becoming
famous most of them worked as: carpenters, farmers, woodcutters, factory workers.
392
Mentioning the performers origin and their background is important because many
popular lyrics are about work described by those who are familiar with social,
economic and, we can say, historical factors of the working class because once they
were part of it, so it can help us to understand the lyrics message better.
1.2 The message: the lyrics
Since the performers wish is to send a massage which will be accepted by a
receiver, in this case the audience, they must have an interesting story to tell, then
they must consider the age of the audience and their interests. American country
audience mostly consists of adult working class white males and females (Rogers
1989: 42) and therefore the topics of the lyrics usually meet the interests of such an
audience and are about: love, home and family, work, hard life and patriotism.
Dignity and integrity of the poor who struggle for survival is often presented in a
positive light, sentimentally and romantically. In addition to the topics that describe
a difficult and poor life, there are those describing spending time in bars, and living
in the countryside versus living in the city.
1.3 The audience
The audience, through different media channels, receives a message sent by the
performers. As we have already said, American country music audience mostly
consists of adult working class white males and females, who identify with the lyrics
because, on one hand, the message usually supports their attitudes, believes and
behavior, on the other hand, the lyrics themselves picture part of the society that
likes and listens to country music.
In this paper, by using about thirty most popular lyrics as examples, we will
first show topics of the songs which country music audience likes to listen to and
then we will show what kind of society the lyrics/texts picture, which is in our
opinion conservative and opportunistic without highly developed class
consciousness.
2. Topics in the American country music texts
Most songs that achieve the greatest acceptance are those that deal with
relationships between adult men and women. Approximately three of every four
popular country songs relate to some facet of love (Rogers 1989: 47) but one of the
most interesting characteristics of the music, however, is the attention given to
experiences of everyday life. In this part of the paper we will point out the most
common topics of the songs picturing, to use the vernacular, livin songs, which are
about home and family, hard work, patriotism and spending time in bars.
393
2.1 Songs about home and family
By analyzing songs about home and family, we can say that the main topic is
about working class life associated with memories that include descriptions of
difficult and uncertain economic times, as can be seen from the following examples:
The bills are all due and the babies need shoes but Im busted,
the food that we canned last summer is gone and were busted (Howard,
Busted)
Its a big job just gettin by with nine kids and a wife.
Sometimes I think about leaving,
I wanna throw my bills out the window catch a train to another town
but I go back working, I gotta buy my kids a brand new pair of shoes (Haggard,
Workin Man Blues)
There was ten of us livin in a two room shack
My daddy was a farmer but all he ever raised was us (Anderson, Po Folks)
Although they work hard and are usually poor the characters in the songs are
also portrayed as very religious people, as can be seen from the following examples:
We were poor but we had love
We didnt have shoes to wear (Lynn, Coal Miners Daughter)
We had no money (Crowell, Our Town)
Dad would read to us all from the old family Bible
And we'd count our many blessings one by one (Gray, Family Bible)
We can say that a lot of attention is also paid to the characters parents who are
portrayed as caring and loving. Father is usually portrayed as a wage-earner: He
shoveled coal. My daddy worked all night in the coal mines, and mother as a
housewife who takes care about the whole family and whose activities can be seen
from the following: Mommy scrubbed our clothes on a washboard everyday.
Mommy rocked the babies. She worked all day long in a field of corn; Momma
sewed the rags together. There are a lot of noun phrases in the text such as all day,
all night, and adverbial phrases all day long to emphasize hard and never stopping
work.
As seen from these examples, we can say that the family type described in the
country texts is nuclear one that is a family of two adult people who live in one
household and take care about their minor children. In this family type there is a
division of roles: one adult member, usually the father, works outside the home, and
394
another adult member, usually the mother, looks after the house and children. The
father, therefore, has an instrumental role, while the mother has an emotional role in
the family.
2.2 Patriotic songs
Another common topic in the American country music is patriotism. Weather
the performers are men or women the songs portray them as great patriots. Men are
presented as patriotic soldiers, fearless and brave who support the idea of
participating in wars, they never doubt in their superiors decisions even if their life
is in danger:
Our fightin men have fought and died to keep.
If you dont love it, leave it:
Let this song Im singin be a warnin. (Haggard, Fightin Side of Me)
The captain just gave us the orders
And Mom, Ill carry them through (Haggard, Soldiers Last Letter)
Women are portrayed as mothers and wives who suffer for their sons and
husbands but think their beloved did not die in vain:
She prayed to the Lord: Hear my plea
Protect all the sons who are fighting tonight
And Dear God keep America free (Haggard, Soldiers Last Letter)
My darling answered when he got that call from you
You said you really need him but you don't need him like I do
Don't misunderstand I know he's fighting for our land
I really love my country but I also love my man (Lynn, Dear Uncle Sam)
2.3 Bar songs
Traditional workers portrayed in the texts, who work hard and are great
patriots, spend their free time in bars. They are usually portrayed as direct,
sometimes more honest than necessary, and out for little except a good time:
Good ol boys were all the same
Aint no way well ever change
Mean no harm by the things we do
We can't help it its just our style
395
And good ol boys is all well ever be (Jennings, Mammas Dont Let Your
Babies
Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
They also fiercely defend spending their free time in bars, and do not allow
anyone or anything to criticize them:
Hello Mrs. Johnson, you self-righteous woman
Sunday School teacher, what brings you out
Well, yes, thats my bottle and yes, that's my glass
And I see youre eye- ballin, this pretty young lass
It aint none of your busness, but yes, she's with me
And we dont need no sermon, you self-righteous woman,
Just let us be. (Smith, The Lord Knows I am Drinkin )
Texts about bars are part of a subculture of the American population, that is,
through such texts the emphasis is on group loyalty and solidarity. There is a close
relationship between the individual at work and in his leisure activities. The
traditional worker and farmer often socialize with friends from work and the people
from their surroundings in a bar.
3. Conservatism in the American country music
By analyzing popular texts we have found out that those who are sung about, as
can be seen from the previous examples, are aware of their class. They belong to the
working class and in the lyrics they are portrayed as common people who drive
pick-up trucks, are around forty years old, usually wear faded jeans and whether
living in the cities or the countryside they prefer the country, as can be seen from the
following examples:
Im just a common man, Drive a common van, My dog aint got a pedigree
(Conlee, Common Man)
Im just a country boy, Country boy at heart (Skaggs, Country Boy)
Im about as old fashioned as I can be, Cause country is all I am (Lynn,
Youre
Looking at a Country)
I dont own a suit (Hall, Ballad of Forty Dollars)
cowboys like old faded levis (Jennings, The Door is Always Open)
Well I finally made forty, still wearing jeans (McDill, Amanda)
However, the texts usually do not express the resistance towards the hard life
the workers have. It is mostly only ascertained through the verses such as:
396
Well Its time to rise and start another hard work day (Crowell, Our Town)
I ve been working everyday since I was twenty,
Too much work and never enough play (Haggard, Big City)
I work hard every day (Haggard, Workin Man Blues)
y dad was a poor hard working Saginaw fisherman (Frizzell, Saginaw)
My daddy was a farmer, Salvation Army give us clothes to wear, we sure was a
hungry bunch (Anderson, Po Folks)
Heaven knows I been workin hard (Haggard, If we make it through
December)
The bills are all due and the babies need shoes (Howard, Busted)
Although the followers of this music are aware of their class it seems that they
do not have, at least in the most popular texts, highly developed class consciousness.
There are a lot of definitions of the class consciousness, but for this paper the
definition of the working class consciousness is important and it usually includes
two elements (Haralambos 1995: 64). The first one is the recognition of being a part
of a certain group which usually has an inferior position in the society as compared
to other groups, and the second element would include the commitment to change
the inferiority by certain activities. There are a few methods that can be used to
change the inferior status of the working class which is usually demonstrated
through hard economic situation. Some of the methods include political or labor
union involvement. According to the most popular American country music texts
the activities with the wish to change a hard economic situation are not expressed in
neither of these ways. In political terms, the followers of this music are shown as
patriots defending their country without thinking too much about the cause of their
involvement especially in wars, such as the Vietnam War.
On the other hand, any activity through labour unions protecting the working
class rights is very rarely mentioned and if it is mentioned it usually has the negative
context and it is in no connection with the main topic of the song, as for example in
Haggards song Big City: Big City, keep your retirement and your so called
social security. The subject of this verse is the big city which is responsible for the
performers hard life who sees his salvation from the hard life in going to the
countryside: Big City turn me loose and set me free somewhere in the middle of
Montana.
Since the previously mentioned examples mostly describe hard working
conditions of the working class who mostly work as farmers, coal miners, truck
drivers and factory workers and since there are no verses in the songs pointing out
any kind of resistance or protest against that kind of life and work, one might ask
why is it is, that is, why the lyrics do not picture a highly developed class
consciousness?
Many historians (Arnowitz 1992: 52) argue that the American workers, aware
of their difficult economic position in society, have chosen unions as a means of
achieving their goal, which is reflected in the improving of their economic situation,
397
however, unions have never been able to strengthen to the point to fight successfully
to protect workers' rights. While the situation in the northern states of the United
States was slightly better, in the south, the union activity was very low (Marshall
1967: 52). Some of the reasons for the poor organization of trade unions was class
hatred of the white race against the inhabitants of African origin, highly developed
proprietary class consciousness and frequent population migration from southern
countries to the north.
If we take into account the fact that the unions, especially in the southern
United States, are poorly organized, and that the workers are largely unprotected, it
could be said that this is one of the reasons why the texts of the American country
music reflect weak class consciousness. On the other hand, if we take into account
the fact that the texts reflect the conservative nature of the supporters of country
music, then we could say that this is another of the reasons.
For example, texts about bars portray people who love the bar way of life, but
they also point to the conservative nature of the supporters of country music. Those
who prefer bars, in the songs, constantly defend themselves against those who
deprecate their lifestyles. For example, in Smiths text Lord knows I am drinking,
narrator has a need to justify to their conservative environment:
Hello Mrs Johnson, you self-righteous woman
Sunday School teacher, what brings you out
And we dont need no sermon, you self-righteous woman,
Just let us be.
In the songs about patriotism, too, we find significantly expressed
conservatism. Neither men nor women doubt decisions on the American
involvement in wars. No personal pain or loss of loved ones affects their unwavering
patriotism.
Conservatism is also manifested in the texts that describe the existence of
another group of people who has different point of view to those who listen to
country music. For example, Haggards text Okie From Muskogee, describes the
attitudes and behavior of people who live in a small town in northeastern Oklahoma.
This song represents the conservative nature of country music and its audience, and
therefore part of the American society that supports the old conservative values. In
the text, this group of people has a negative attitude towards the hippie movement
and its representatives who wear sandals and have long hair:
We dont let our hair grow long and shaggy,
Like the hippies out in San Francisco do.
Leather boots are still in style for manly footwear;
Roman sandals wont be seen. (Haggard, Okie From Muskogee)
They are opposed to expressing love in public:
398
We dont make a party out of lovin;
We like holdin hands and pitchin woo; (Haggard, Okie From Muskogee)
And drug use:
We dont smoke marijuana in Muskogee;
We dont take our trips on LSD (Haggard, Okie From Muskogee)
So, the song Okie from Muskogee glorifies behavior and attitudes of a group
of conservatives in the American society, and strongly condemns the attitudes and
behavior of those who have a different way of life. We notice that people in the song
are portrayed as insensitive provincials who are satisfied with their attitudes and
behavior and have no intention of changing anything.
4. Opportunism in the American country music
Since the verses in the songs usually do not express any form of protest, or
desire to change anyone or anything, we can say that some of the texts reflect
several opportunistic ways to overcome the difficult economic situation of the
workers, and they are: realizing and accepting the situation by emphasizing religious
faith as a consolation for the hard life, recognizing the difference between the poor
and the rich by pointing out some advantages of the poor as compared to the rich
and if mentioning dissatisfaction with the present life than giving the solution for it
which is usually in leaving the city and going to the countryside.
Accepting the situation is a common topic in country music. In such songs one
can usually learn about a hard life of the individual. From this perspective, an
individual, usually a man does not do anything to change his situation. He accepts
the life as it is. Examples are found in several songs. In them, a narrator, usually a
male, states that he has and supports a large family by working hard almost all his
life:
Its a big job just gettin by with nine kids and a wife
Ive been a workin man near all my life (Haggard, Workin Man
Blues)
Heaven knows Ive been workin hard (Haggard, If We Make It Through
December)
The bills are all due and the babies need shoes
The food that we canned last summer is gone (Howard, Busted)
399
Long-term planning of the future life is not mentioned, perhaps even discarded
in favour of orientation to the present. There is a tendency to live from hand to
mouth:
after I draw my pay, Ill drink a little beer that evening (Haggard, Workin
Man Blues)
Planning, if mentioned, is limited to near future:
Might get a little tired on the weekend
But Ill go back workin
come Monday morning, I'm right back with the crew (Haggard, Workin Man
Blues)
But in some songs, after confirming difficult situation, God and faith are
mentioned, as a consolation for the hard life:
At the end of day when work was over
And when the evening meal was done
Dad would read to us all from the old family Bible (Gray, Family Bible)
Usually in these songs, the existence of another class of people is not
mentioned.
Recognizing the gap between the rich and the poor. There are some texts in
which, after confirming difficult situation, the existence of the upper class is
mentioned. For example in Andersons song Po Folks:
We was po folks livin in a rich folks world
In these songs, protests or culprits for the poverty are not mentioned. Very
often the songs point out the advantage of the poor compared to the rich through the
emphasis on love between family members:
But we had something in our house money cant buy
Kept us warm in the winter, cool when the sun was high
For whenever we didnt have food enough and the howlin' winds would get
pretty rough
we set the table with love (Anderson, Po Folks)
Sometimes, throughout the texts, there are verses pointing out the difference
between the rich and the poor. These differences are often in favour of the poor, as
for example in the text of the song Saginaw:
400
Will you sell your father-in-law your Klondyke claim?
Now hes up there in Alaska digging in the cold, cold ground,
The greedy fool is looking for the gold I never found. (Fritzell, Saginaw)
Country songs also point out another advantage of the poor compared to the
rich. Although most male characters in the texts are unable to afford to the opposite
sex the luxury that is bought with money because they do not have it, through the
texts, they are presented as winners because they are portrayed as better lovers than
the rich. For example, in Jenningss text of the song The door is always open, the
narrator, a man, is telling us how his ex-girlfriend married a rich man:
Saw your picture in the paper and I see you married good
And I know that he can give you all the things I never could
Further on in the text, he is telling us the way in which he is the winner over
her rich husband:
But I know that he cant give you what you need most of all
So the door is always open, and the lights on in the hall (Jennings, The door is
always open)
These verses point out the poor man is a better lover than the rich husband, and
this is kind of his personal victory over the rich people.
Another example is found in the text of the song Tight Fittin Jeans. The
sender of the message, a man, recounts how he met a rich woman in the bar who is
unhappy in marriage:
She said: I married money, Im use to wearin pearls
So tonight I left those crystal candle lights to live a dream
And partner, there's a tiger in these tight fittin jeans (Twitty, Tight Fittin
Jeans)
After the night they spent together he says:
Im satisfied I did my best to make her dream come true (Twitty: Tight fittin
Jeans)
At the end of this song, the last verse is: A cowboy once had a millionaires
dream. The noun cowboy is referred to the sender of the message, and this last
verse points out a cowboys personal victory over the rich men, whose dream, even
though he has the power that money can buy, will never come true, that is he will
never be a better lover than the cowboy.
401
Sometimes the narrators are women who are married to rich men who
give them financial security, but are not successful as lovers. As for example, in the
text of the song Satin Sheets, a woman directly addresses her husband, a rich man,
and says she has found a poorer man who is a better lover:
Ive found another man
Who can give more than you can
Though youve given me everything money can buy
But your money cant hold me tight
He does on a long, long night
You know you didnt keep me satisfied (Parton, Satin Sheets)
Solution for the hard workers life. If there are some verses in the songs
indicating the protest or expressing dissatisfaction with the existing situation, then
there are verses offering a solution to the situation. The most common solution to
the plight of the workers is in leaving big cities and returning to the countryside. For
example, in the previously mentioned text of the song Big City, the sender of the
message, a man, lives and works in the big city and his dissatisfaction is expressed
with the verse:
Ive been working every day since I was twenty.
Haven't got a thing to show for anything I've done. (Haggard, Big City)
But at the end of the song the solution is offered in the following verse:
Big City, turn me loose and set me free, somewhere in the middle of Montana.
(Haggard, Big City)
The song Detroit City describes the sadness of a southerner who went north
in search of work in a factory and a better life. After many years of work, he realizes
that he would be much better at home in the countryside, and decides to return to the
country:
Last night I went to sleep
And I dreamed about those cottonfields and home
I wanna go home I wanna go home oh Lord I wanna go home (Parton, Detroit
City)
The countryside in the country music is a metaphor for the ideal, peaceful and
serene life. Culprits for the hard life are never mentioned. Very often culprits are the
workers who, if they live in the city, accept this way of life, and if they want to get
rid of, then the solution is going to the country. We have not found the texts offering
the solution in the form of transition from one class to another. Even if the
acquisition of large income is mentioned, such as lyrics in the song Luckenbach,
402
Texas (Back to the Basics of Love), in which the sender of the message reports that
he is making progress and earning money, he has a wish to escape to the countryside
from the accelerated pace of life and stress. It seems that the only advantage that
poor workers have in relation to the rich, and in the texts they are always portrayed
as better lovers, is sufficient way of victory against the rich.
5. Conclusion
Country music lyrics mostly portray the world of work experienced by the
Southern labour force, continuing a tradition established with the origins in industry.
These country songs, sung by performers who clearly identify with the workers
whom they perform for, provide an excellent example of class awareness, as
opposed to class consciousness. Such tunes are invariably written from the workers
viewpoint, and leave no doubt that the narrator is fully conscious of his position in
society but it is also evident that the songs do not consider group action designed to
change for better the status of the worker. Union activity is not offered as an option,
nor, for that matter, is political activity based on class consciousness. Country
songs also portray conservative individuals offering some opportunistic mechanisms
to overcome the low economic situation. The mechanisms are reflected in realizing
and accepting the situation as it is, when the individual, whether as a housewife or a
worker, accepts the necessity of working to provide for the family, or to maintain the
household but finds the consolation in religious faith. The individual is also aware of
the upper class, and through some personal acts, seeks for revenge against a member
of the upper class by being portrayed as a better lover, and finally the individual
finds the solution for his low economic status in leaving big cities, returning to the
countryside where he feels free, and thus manages to maintain his dignity.
Songs cited in the paper
Anderson, B. (1999). Po Folks. 20
th
Century Masters: The Millennium
Collection. Mca Nashville. CD.
Conlee, J. (2001). Common Man. The Best of John Conlee. Curb. CD.
Crowell, R. (2006). Our town. Platinum Collection. Rhino/Wea UK. CD.
Frizzell, L. (2003). Saginaw. Saginaw Michigan. Collectables. CD.
Gray, C. (2006). Family Bible. Country Gospel. One Media Publishing. CD.
Hall, T. (1998). Ballad of Forty Dollars. Ballad of Forty Dollars. Bear Family
Records. CD.
Haggard, M. (2002). Big City. 20 Greatest Hits. Capitol. CD.
Haggard, M. (2002). Fightin side of me. 20 Greatest Hits. Capitol. CD.
Haggard, M. (2002). If we make it through December. 20 Greatest Hits. Capitol.
CD.
403
Haggard, M. (2002). Okie From Muskogee. 20 Greatest Hits. Capitol. CD.
Haggard, M. (2002). Soldiers last letter. 20 Greatest Hits. Capitol. CD.
Haggard, M. (2002). Workin Mn Blues. 20 Greatest Hits. Capitol. CD.
Howard, H. (2002). Busted. Country Music Hall Of Fame 1997. King Records.
CD.
Jennings, W. (2010). Just Good Ol Boys. Greatest Hits. RCA. CD.
Jennings, W. (2010). Luckenbach, Texas (back to the basics of lov). Greatest
Hits. RCA. CD.
Jennings, W. (2010). Mammas Dont Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys.
Greatest Hits. RCA. CD.
Jennings, W. (2010). The door is always open. On Greatest Hits. RCA. CD.
Lynn, L. (2010). Coal Miners Daughter. A Tribute to Leoretta Lynn. Sony. CD.
Lynn, L. (2010). Dear Uncle Sam. A Tribute to Leoretta Lynn. Sony. CD.
Lynn, L. (2010). Youre Looking at a Country. A Tribute to Leoretta Lynn. Sony.
CD.
McDill, B. (1975). Amanda. Sings Bob McDill. MCA. AC.
Parton, D. (1996). Detroit City. Treasures. Sony. CD.
Parton, D. (1996). Satin Sheets. Treasures. Sony. CD.
Reeves, D. (2005). The Girl on the Billboard. All Time Greatest Hits. King
Records. CD.
Skaggs, R. (2000). Country Boy. 16 Biggest Hits. Epic/Legacy. CD.
Smith, C. (1991). The Lord Knows I am Drinkin . The Lord Knows I am Drinkin.
Country Harvest Records. CD.
Twitty, C. (1999). Tight Fittin Jeans. 20
th
Century Masters: The Best of Conway
Twitty. Mca Nashville. CD.
References
Arnowitz, S. (1992). False Promises: The shaping of American working class. 2
nd
edition. Durham: Duke University Press.
Haralambos, M. (1995). Sociology: Themes and Perspectives. 4
th
edition. London:
University Tutorial Press.
Malone, B. (2002). Country Music USA. 3
rd
edition. Austin: Texas University of
Texas Press.
Marshall, F.R. (1967). Labour in the South. 1
st
edition. Harvard University Press.
Roggers, J. (1989). The Country Music Message. 1
st
edition. Fayetteville: University
Of Arkansas Press.
404
Zorica ergovi-Joksimovi
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
THE ONTOLOGY OF SPACE: UTOPIA, DYSTOPIA AND HETEROTOPIA
IN MARGE PIERCYS WOMAN ON THE EDGE OF TIME
Abstract It was in his essay Des Espaces Autres (1967) that Michel Foucault
introduced the term heterotopia to denote one of two sites that have the curious
property of being in relation with all the other sites, but in such a way as to suspect,
neutralize, or invert the set of relations that they happen to designate, mirror, or
reflect. The other of the two sites is, of course, utopia. In the narration of space,
which any literary utopia basically is, space becomes one of the primary ontological
concerns through which all other utopian aspects are reflected. The aim of this paper
is to present Marge Piercys novel Woman on the Edge of Time (1976) as a valuable
work in which as different spatial structures as utopia, dystopia and heterotopia
coexist thus providing us with ample material for the study of ontology of space in a
literary work.
Key words: dystopia, Foucault, heterotopia, mirror, ontology, space, utopia
1. Mirror, mirror on the wall
Marge Piercys masterpiece Woman on the Edge of Time (1976) can serve as
an exemplary case study on how different, seemingly mutually exclusive concepts of
space can be successfully juxtaposed. This leads us to the essential question: What is
space? In physics, it is usually time as a concept that is problematic and hard to
define (for example, different physicists such as Einstein, De Witt, Hawking,
Barbour have actually undermined the commonsensical notion of time as incessantly
flowing). But, history shows that there have been many misconceptions of space so
far: the Earth was once seen as a disk carried by a turtle; it was thought to be flat; in
the Classical presentation the Earth was surrounded by the Ocean; even in the great
age of discoveries, the Terrestrial Paradise was frequently drawn on the maps;
according to the Ptolemaic Geocentric Universe the Earth was seen as the centre of
the universe, etc.
1
1
Zeno of Elea was among the first to draw our attention to the problem of space in his famous
confusing paradoxes, among which are best known the paradox of Achilles and the tortoise, the arrow
paradox, and the dichotomy paradox. In his paradox of place, for example, he claims that if everything
that exists has a place, place too will have a place, and so on ad infinitum (Aristotle Physics IV: 1).
405
So, what is space? This question, as Aristotle points out, presents many
difficulties, for
an examination of all the relevant facts seems to lead to divergent
conclusions. Moreover, we have inherited nothing from previous thinkers,
whether in the way of a statement of difficulties or of a solution. (Aristotle
Physics IV: 1)
One of the dictionary definitions says that space is the unlimited or
incalculably great three-dimensional realm or expanse in which all material objects
are located and all events occur (Dictionary.com). But things are usually a bit more
complex, especially in literature and physics. In Woman on the Edge of Time there
are four different spatial structures in which the action takes place: mental institution
(heterotopia), the outside world (topia), the futuristic Mattapoisett 2137 (Utopia),
and the futuristic Dystopia. Heterotopia is usually described as other space (which
can be both physical and mental), utopia as no place or a good place, and dystopia as
a bad place (which is also non-existent). The term heterotopia was coined by Michel
Foucault in his influential work Des espaces autres (Of Other Spaces), in which he
claims that space itself has a history in Western experience, and it is not possible to
disregard the fatal intersection of time with space (Foucault 1967).
Among the possible types of heterotopia are the so called heterotopias of
deviation, those in which individuals whose behavior is deviant in relation to the
required mean or norm are placed (Foucault 1967), such as hospitals, asylums,
prisons, and rest homes. As Foucault perceptively notices, both utopia and
heterotopia have the curious property of being in relation with all the other sites,
but in such a way as to suspect, neutralize, or invert the set of relations that they
happen to designate, mirror, or reflect (Foucault 1967). Foucault uses the mirror as
an example to show us both the similarities and differences between utopias and
heterotopias, claiming that
between utopias and these heterotopias, there might be a sort of mixed,
joint experience, which would be the mirror. The mirror is a utopia, since it
is a placeless place. In the mirror, I see myself there where I am not, in an
unreal, virtual space that opens up behind the surface; I am over there, there
where I am not, a sort of shadow that gives my own visibility to myself, that
enables me to see myself there where I am absent: such is the utopia of the
mirror. (Foucault 1967)
Obviously, Piercys Mattapoisett is a Foucaldian utopian mirror, for it is
seemingly an unreal, virtual space. In the novel, the main protagonist, Connie, sees
herself there where she is not in the future. However, the mirror is also a
heterotopia:
406
It is also a heterotopia in so far as the mirror does exist in reality, where it
exerts a sort of counteraction on the position that I occupy. From the standpoint
of the mirror I discover my absence from the place where I am since I see
myself over there. Starting from this gaze that is () directed toward me, from
the ground of this virtual space that is on the other side of the glass, I come
back toward myself; I begin again to direct my eyes toward myself and to
reconstitute myself there where I am. The mirror functions as a heterotopia in
this respect: it makes this place that I occupy at the moment when I look at
myself in the glass at once absolutely real, connected with all the space that
surrounds it, and absolutely unreal, since in order to be perceived it has to pass
through this virtual point which is over there. (Foucault 1967)
The mental institution Piercys Connie is sent to is, therefore, the equivalent of
the heterotopian mirror. It does exist in reality and owing to it she realizes her
absence from the real life.
2. Over the cuckoos nest
In his earlier and quite influential work Folie et draison: Histoire de la
folie l'ge classique (The History of Madness) Foucault distinguishes different
types of attitude towards insanity. Historically speaking, in the treatment of madness
two trends became dominant: institutionalization and exclusion. Consequently, the
dialogue has been supressed by innumerable monologues:
In the serene world of mental illness, modern man no longer
communicates with the madman () As for a common language, there is no
such thing, or rather, there is no such thing any longer; the constitution of
madness as a mental illness, at the end of the eighteenth century, affords the
evidence of a broken dialogue () The language of psychiatry, which is a
monologue of reason about madness, has been established only on the basis of
such a silence. (Foucault 1988: x)
Yet, in the novel Woman on the Edge of Time, future utopian society members
always opt for the dialogue. They even try to reach out to their predecessors from
our age. Interestingly, as they say, Most weve reached are females, and many of
those in mental hospitals and prisons (Piercy 1991: 196). Their contactee, Connie
Ramos, fits the pattern perfectly she is a marginalized social outcast in every
respect: she is a woman, a Chicana, underprivileged, unemployed (welfare
recipient), officially labelled as violent (she accidentally broke her childs wrist, and
in self defence she broke her nieces pimps nose), and diagnosed as mentally ill (cf.
similar dubious diagnosis and the consequential institutionalization in Ken Keseys
One flew over the Cuckoos Nest (1962)). As we can see, Connie is ostracized by her
gender, ethnicity, class, and her nonconformist behaviour.
407
Actually, in all the three time/space frames women are the main
representatives: in the present there is Connie Ramos, in the future utopia there is
Luciente, while in the sexist materialistic technologically developed and highly
polluted futuristic dystopia there is Gildina.
2
Obviously, the novel should be read
primarily as a feminist utopia (in the futuristic Mattapoisett both sexes breast-feed
their babies, women have given up childbirth in order that men wont regret
having given up power (Atwood 1976: 601), it is a sexually equal society, there are
no gender pronouns, and everybody is referred to as per). As Kathleen Komar
notices, in case of feminist utopias, the space of the literary text becomes a site of
critical rethinking and often of female rebirth (Fancourt 2002: 97). But, this novel
is also what Lyman Tower Sargent calls a critical utopia it does not depict an ideal,
perfect place but a better place with difficult problems (such works are usually
critical both of the utopian tradition and of the current state of affairs) (Sargent
1994: 9).
However, it is also a fine example of a mental utopia or eupsychia for,
according to Donna Fancourt, such utopias are constructed by the mind, and
emerge from philosophical idealism, the belief that the external world is created by
the psyche (Fancourt 2002: 95). Nevertheless, to idealise does not mean to beautify
or to perfect, but as H. E. dos Reis stresses, to make present (to re-present) the
world through the mediation of the ideas and images of the knowing subject
(Fancourt 2002: 95). After all, as Lyman Tower Sargent concludes, utopianism is
social dreaming (Fancourt 2002: 96). This dreamlike eupsychian aspect of the
future Mattapoisett utopia becomes obvious in the dialogue between Connie and
Luciente:
But you exist. [Connie says ]
Maybe. Maybe not. Luciente smiled, her eyes liquid and sad. Its not
clear. Were struggling to exist. (Piercy 1991: 197)
Lucientes answer is ontologically enigmatic. Later on, she additionally
undermines the stability of the existence of her world:
But there was a thirty-year war that culminated in a revolution that set up
what we have. Or else there wasnt and we dont exist. (Piercy 1991: 198)
One of the characters from the future, Barbarossa, tries to provide a plausible
explanation of the mutual interdependence of different alternate futures and our
present:
2
All the three names are quite revealing. In Spanish, Connies full name Consuelo means
consolation, and Luciente means bright, shining. Gildina, according to Adam Lowe, suggests gold and
coinage, since she represents the other seen as a commodity (Lowe 2008).
408
At certain cruxes of history forces are in conflict. Technology is
imbalanced. Too few have too much power. Alternate futures are equally or
almost equally probable and that affects the shape of time. (Piercy 1991:
197)
Obviously, M. Piercys novel centres around the parallel worlds theory. This
makes Adam Lowe conclude that
in Woman on the Edge of Time () irony is present in the twin futures of
America which Connie visits. Only one can exist in any one timeline, as time is
considered linear. Yet Connie visits both futures, so neither is certain but both
are possible. () If Connie can visit either future, then it must exist, but the
existence of one denies the existence of the other. () whatever decision
Connie makes, both or neither reality may occur simultaneously and those
decisions therefore become unimportant. One future cannot be averted because
it will exist parallel to the other, as it was and always will be. (Lowe 2008)
3. Welcome to Platonia
This parallel worlds narration makes us, somewhat unexpectedly, end up in
the realm of modern physics. If several different futures can coexist independently
then obviously something must be wrong with our commonsensical concept of time
as gradually evolving from the past into the present and finally into the future. Julian
Barbour, one of the leading physicists today, in his controversial study The End of
Time, claims that time is actually just an illusion, it does not flow. Instead, he says
that Time is nothing but a measure of the changing positions of objects (Folger
2000). According to Barbour,
every possible configuration of the universe, past, present, and future,
exists separately and eternally. We don't live in a single universe that passes
through time. Instead, we or many slightly different versions of ourselves
simultaneously inhabit a multitude of static, everlasting tableaux that include
everything in the universe at any given moment. (Folger 2000)
It turns out, quite distressingly, that our concepts of past, present and future are
just unstable grammatical constructs. Similarly, the poet T. S. Eliot claims in his
Burnt Norton that
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
409
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
(Eliot, Burnt Norton, Four Quartets)
What Eliot poetically calls eternally present in Barbours system is
represented by a multitude of Nows. Not only are all those Nows self-contained, but
each one is a timeless, unchanging universe per se (Folger 2000). For, it is we who
mistakenly perceive the Nows as fleeting, when in fact each one persists forever
(Folger 2000). Moreover, Barbour creates a new hypothetic model of the universe in
which all possible Nows are contained. This universe he calls Platonia in honour of
the Greek philosopher Plato, who claimed that our changing world is just a copy of
yet another one, which is real and unchanging. In order to make his model
acceptable to the wider population Barbour uses the image of a snapshot or a strip of
movie. As he points out, each frame captures one possible Now but nothing
moves or changes in any one frame. And the frames the past and future don't
disappear after they pass in front of the lens (Folger 2000).
If we are to apply Barbours model to the novel Woman on the Edge of Time,
this is what we shall find: 1st Now the present (both outside and inside the mental
institution), 2nd Now Mattapoisettian futuristic utopia, and 3rd Now the
dystopian dehumanized future. What is their ontological status? They coexist, side
by side, in one realm (Platonia?). As we have seen, they all are plausible, all equally
possible, and mutually dependent.
Although Marge Piercys novel, as suggested by M. Atwood, proved to be a
hard nut to crack for many reviewers at the time of its publication (Atwood 1976:
601), the ideas that support the concept of space/time structures presented in her
work can now be found in numerous fields of research, such as modern physics,
philosophy, logic, various literary theories. Thus, according to the Multiverse theory
instead of one there could be several universes (parallel universes).
3
Likewise, the
fundamental assumption of the quantum physics Many-worlds interpretation is that
in addition to the world we are aware of directly, there are many other
similar worlds which exist in parallel at the same space and time. The existence
of the other worlds makes it possible to remove randomness and action at a
distance from quantum theory and thus from all physics. (Vaidman 2008)
3
See Folger, Tim (2008). Sciences Alternative to an Intelligent Creator: the Multiverse
Theory. Discover. Available at: http://discovermagazine.com/2008/dec/10-sciences-alternative-to-an-
intelligent-creator.
410
It is no wonder that owing to the works of renowned physicists, such as David
Deutsch (The fabric of reality, 1997) and Julian Barbour (The end of time, 1999), the
ontological status of Piercys futures is confirmed (and it is the futures and their
utopian/dystopian aspects that interest us most). It seems that Barbours concept
finds best application in this case, for, as he stresses,
we're always locked within one Now () We do not pass through time.
Instead, each new instant is an entirely different universe. In all of these
universes, nothing ever moves or ages, since time is not present in any of them.
One universe might contain you as a baby staring at your mother's face. In that
universe you will never move from that one, still scene. In yet another universe,
you'll be forever just one breath away from death. All of those universes, and
infinitely many more, exist permanently, side by side, in a cosmos of
unimaginable size and variety. So there is not one immortal you, but many: the
toddler, the cool dude, the codger. The tragedy or perhaps it's a blessing is
that no one version recognizes its own immortality. (Folger 2000)
Obviously, both Piercy and Barbour try to lead us Down the passage which
we did not take/ Towards the door we never opened (Eliot, Burnt Norton, Four
Quartets).
4. A tale told by a Schizo?
In the narration of space, which any literary utopia basically is, space
becomes one of the primary ontological concerns through which all other utopian
aspects are reflected, i.e. if the space does not exist (is not possible), then its
qualities might become irrelevant. Connies futuristic utopias plausibility might be
seen as doubly undermined by being a utopia with a circular, repetitious aspect of
the deeper structure of the novel, and by being a story told by a social outcast (a
marginalized Chicano woman prone to violence and diagnosed with Schizophrenia).
However, findings of the different teachings suggest to the contrary. For example,
Lubomir Dolezel, who is the main proponent of the Possible worlds theory, explores
what [] possible-world semantics of fiction could say about the relation of fiction
and history (Doleel 2010: viii). Dolezel stresses the credibility of fictional worlds,
pointing to the fact that possible-worlds semantics claims that fictions are possible
worlds (Dolezel 1995: 201). Thus, any fictional world, including a utopia, is a
possible world, which means that Connies Mattapoisett is just another fictional but
possible world. As shown earlier, the proof of both the plausibility and possibility of
Piercys feminist utopia and sexist dystopia can be found in contemporary physics
(in the works of such eminent physicists such as Deutsch and Barbour), but also in
modern philosophy (primarily in the works of M. Foucault, some of which have
been mentioned, and Gilles Deleuze-Felix Guattaris seminal work Capitalism and
Schizophrenia, 1972).
411
Of course, the whole novel Woman on the Edge of Time could be read as a
classical anti-psychiatry piece.
4
The quasi-scientific bestial experiments performed
on Connie and other patients do not undermine the credibility of Connies visions of
the future but, on the contrary, the sanity of the doctors and the whole power-system
they represent. According to Donna Fancourt, Piercy disrupts constructed notions
of sanity and insanity, arguing that madness is a gendered construct in patriarchal
society, exploited by those in power and used as a means of oppression (Fancourt
2002: 105). Besides, it is precisely owing to the fact that Piercy gives voice to the
voiceless that Connies story becomes not only credible but equally possible, too.
Therefore, Connies utopia might be a tale told by a Schizo, but what a story! As
we have seen, all spaces and all worlds are possible and so is Connies. This makes
Donna Fancourt conclude that Piercy does not validate one form of consciousness
as more or less real: all are possible co-existent realities (Fancourt 2002: 105).
Consequently, as Connie and Luciente teach us, there is a utopia, it is within our
reach and it is upon us to decide what we want our future to be like. Or, as T. S.
Eliots bird advises us
human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
(Eliot, Burnt Norton, Four Quartets)
References
Aristotle. Physics. Available at: http://classics.mit.edu/Aristotle/physics.4.iv.html.
Retrieved on: 10 March 2011.
Atwood, M. (1976). An Unfashionable Sensibility. Nation 223/19: 601-602.
Deleuze, G. and Guattari, F. (1983). Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia.
Translated by Helen R. Lane, et al. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota
Press.
Dictionary.com. Available at: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/space.
Retrieved on: 10 March 2011.
Dolezel, L. (1995). Fictional worlds: Density, gaps, and inference. Style 29/2: 201-
215.
4
Members of the movement claim that both in terms of diagnosis and medication psychiatry is
more harmful than beneficent, that it is higly subjective (therefore not a true science), and that some of
its aspects are quite sinister (patients are stigmatized, mental asylums are total institutions, etc.).
Prominent adherents are M. Foucault, Ronald Laing and Thomas Szasz, among others.
412
Doleel, L. (2010). Possible Worlds of Fiction and History: The Postmodern stage.
Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press.
Eliot, T. S. Burnt Norton. Four Quartets. Available at:
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/burnt-norton-from-four-quartets/ Retrieved
on: 10 March 2011.
Fancourt, D. (2002). Accessing Utopia through Altered States of Consciousness:
Three Feminist Utopian Novels. Utopian Studies 13/1: 94-113.
Folger, T. (2000). From Here to Eternity. Discover. Available at:
http://discovermagazine.com/2000/dec/cover. Retrieved on: 10 March 2011.
Folger, T. (2008). Sciences Alternative to an Intelligent Creator: the Multiverse
Theory. Discover. Available at: http://discovermagazine.com/2008/dec/10-
sciences-alternative-to-an-intelligent-creator.
Foucault, M.(1988). Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of
Reason. Translated by Richard Howard. New York: Vintage Books.
Foucault M. (1967). Of Other Spaces (1967), Heterotopias. Translated by Jay
Miskowiec. Available at:
http://foucault.info/documents/heteroTopia/foucault.heteroTopia.en.html.
Retrieved on: 10 March 2011.
Hansen, E. T. (1997). Mother Without Child: Contemporary Fiction and the Crisis
of Motherhood. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California
Press.
Laing, R. D. (1976). The Politics of Experience. New York: Ballantine.
Lowe, A. (2008). Holding It Together: Postmodern Codes of Cohesion. eSharp.
Issue 12: Technology and Humanity. Available at:
http://www.gla.ac.uk/media/media_103037_en.pdf. Retrieved on: 10 March
2011.
Kesey, K. (1989). One flew over the Cuckoos Nest.New York: Signet.
Piercy, M. (1991). Woman on the Edge of Time. New York: Fawcett Crest.
Sargent, L. T. (1994). Three Faces of Utopianism Revisited. Utopian Studies 5/1:
1-37.
Szasz, T. (1973). Ideology and Insanity:Essays on the Psychiatric Dehumanization
of Man. London: Marion Boyars.
Vaidman, L. (2008). "Many-Worlds Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics". The
Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2008 Edition), Edward N.
Zalta (ed.). Available at: http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2008/entries/qm-
manyworlds/. Retrieved on: 10 March 2011.
413
Vladislava Gordi Petkovi
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
REFERENCES AND RESONANCES: TENNESSEE WILLIAMS AND
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Abstract The plays of Tennessee Williams written between 1945 and 1960 seem to
be haunted by Shakespearean characters and motifs and in many of them we witness
powerful transformations of Shakespearean tragedy. A staggering mixture of
revenge, sexual desire and imminent destruction, Williamss plays with the
prevailing mythical pattern, such as Suddenly Last Summer, or Orpheus Descending,
offer an array of echoes and resonances to Hamlet, King Lear and Macbeth.
Although the American playwright downplayed the impact of Shakespeare on his
work, the critics cannot ignore the fact that his female characters resemble Ophelia,
Lady Macbeth and Cleopatra, whereas references to wheels of fire, brief candles,
antic dispositions and mortal coils regularly occur in the plays of Tennessee
Williams. The paper will try to answer the following question: was Williams writing
an American tragedy with Shakespeares drama in mind?
Key words: Tennessee Williams, William Shakespeare, tragedy, American
literature.
In a letter to his agent and friend Audrey Wood, Tennessee Williams confesses
that he has only one major theme for his work: the destructive impact of society on
the sensitive non-conformist individual (Haley 1998: 67). This sentence (which
might as well fit to describe Shakespeare's Hamlet) perfectly reflects the outcast
characters in his plays who are the narrators of the author's own experience, as well
as the essence of Shakespearean tragedy. The characters invented by Tennessee
Williams embody the very same conflict of the tragic hero with the social order that
we encounter in Shakespeare's tregedies.
Doomed to collide with the laws and customs of the society, doomed to be
punished and destroyed for pursuing their dreams, Williams's characters rely too
much on their romantic imagination. Unable to understand the causes and tolerate
the effects of their inner dichotomies and discrepances, the society muffles the rebel
yells of Val Xavier, Maggie Pollitt and Blanche DuBois and strives to punish them
severely for their noncomformism. Not even the fact that all the prominent
characters seek support and understanding can redeem them: their marginality is
treated as an unpardonable sin, despite the obvious responsibilies of the rigid and
biggoted society for their respective downfalls.
The world of Williamss plays is the controversial American South, strained
with its many contradictions, a conservative society that is an eternal battlefield
414
against racial and sexual discrimination (Bloom 1987: 86). In Williamss time,
promiscuity and homosexuality were seen as grave threats to the male-centred,
prudish and homophobic patriarchal society and were severely penalized. His most
prominent characters are charged with possession of an uncontrolled hunger for
love, hope, devotion and understanding, accused of existential fallacy, imprisoned
within emptiness of their lives that lack freedom and beauty, and finally publicly
humiliated and executed, dying for the very same unattainable love that was denied
to them in their lifetime.
The plays of Tennessee Williams, particularly those written between 1945 and
1960, are somehow haunted by Shakespearean characters and motifs, offering a rich
array of powerful transformations of Shakespearean tragedy and digging deep into
issues of identity, societal conflicts and the decline of moral values. The protagonists
in the plays of Tennessee Williams explicitly declare their loneliness or tell of their
isolation from the world, defining solitariness as a quintessential human condition
which cannot be prevented or defeated. Some characters like Val Xavier or Maggie
Pollitt turn into pessimistic philosophers who desperately try to articulate their
experience of loneliness and nonconformity. Val, a poet and a Bohemian, gloomily
equals life with incarceration: "Nobody ever gets to know nobody! Were all of us
sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins for life!" (Williams 2000:
43), while the less articulate and more down-to-earth Maggie argues that "Living
with someone you love can be lonelier than living entirely alone! If the one that y
love doesnt love you..." (Williams 2000: 890). The loneliness and isolation are the
mark of an artist, inseparable from the hunger for love which these characters feel.
Tom Wingfield, the dreamy Proustian narrator of Tennessee Williams's The
Glass Menagerie is nicknamed Shakespeare because he writes poetry in secret,
during his working hours, hidden in the washroom of the warehouse. Throughout the
play, Tom's friend Jim addresses him as Shakespeare a number of times. "You
know, Shakespeare, I never thought of you as having folks!" (Williams 2000: 438),
Jim says, obviously dropping hints about the artistic abilities which clearly isolate
Tom from the real world of connections and relationships, as well as his habit of
going to the movies alone. When Tom forgets to pay the light bill and thus
inadvertently causes the blackout during the elegant dinner given by Amanda
Wingfield who is resolute to make a match for her crippled daughter, Jim tells
jokingly that "Shakespeare probably wrote a poem on that light bill"(Williams 2000:
446); "I didn't even know you were Shakespeare's sister" (Williams 2000: 447), Jim
says to the morbidly shy Laura Wingfield, reminding us instantly of Virginia
Woolf's imaginative passages about the thwarted chances and destroyed illusions of
a young woman with an artistic temperament who might have been born in
Shakespeare's family, without any proper opportunity to repeat her brother's
achievement.
By the end of The Glass Menagerie, after having shattered all fantasies of his
garrulous mother and ruined his sister's chances to prosper, Tom informs the
audience that he had been sacked for writing a poem on the lid of a shoebox.
However, his masterly rendering of his familys drama of delusion and loss has
415
turned him by that time into a paragon of Shakespearean negative capability, so that
we perceive his failure as the expected outcome of the collision between the spiritual
growth of an artist and the crude material concerns of the society. Indeed, it is quite
uncertain that Tom has committed to art, since we do not hear of him becoming a
poet: Tom has rather become a chronicler of his family's tragic losses. Tom's dutiful
jotting down the family history in a series of glimpses and flashbacks is clearly
motivated by seeking apology for having abandoned his mother and sister, for
sacrificing their well-being to his love of long distances. Long distances stand for
dedicating his life to art but, in the long run, the sea expanse Tom wishfully
embraces can mark any intelectual and moral pursuit into which Shakespeare's tragic
heroes regularly plunge. Thus Tom resembles Hamlet, who neglects the strong
attachment to his mother, his love for Ophelia and most of his worldly concerns for
the sake of the impending revenge. The great Dane is not the only Shakespearean
character whose traits can be recognized in Tom Wingfield's complex, guilt-ridden
personality. Tom is gullible and impulsive like Othello, reckless and shallow like
King Lear, even machiavelistic like Macbeth; like some of Shakespeare's villainous
characters he seems to lack the moral fibre, but Williams reassures the reader that
this recklessness is a part of a larger, artistic pursuit.
And yet, few critics dare compare The Glass Menagerie to any of
Shakespeare's work. Tom's pursuit of happiness has not been compared to Hamlet's
revenge on any level, although the two characters share a certain reluctance to act on
their secret wishes and aspirations (Edwards 1985: 46). Hesitant to pursue the traces
of Shakespeare in Williams's plays because Williams himself downplayed the
impact of Shakespeare on his work, the critics and the audience cannot ignore
insanity, fervor and doom in some complex Williams's characters such as Blanche
DuBois.
A Streetcar Named Desire offers wealth of interpretative possibilities and its
mystery lies in Williamss powerful transformations of crucial elements of
Shakespearean tragedy such as love, loyalty, loss and insanity. A Streetcar Named
Desire is "the first American play in which sexuality was patently at the core of all
its principal characters", a sexuality "with the power to redeem or destroy, to
compound or negate the forces which bore on those caught in a moment of social
change" (Bigsby 1992: 51). Blanche DuBois is much more than a love-starved
Southern lady or a ghost reviving the glorious past. She is a paradox in herself and
a creator of paradoxes Williams constructs a character that displays excessive
femininity, yet cannot function successfully, her gender identity being curiously
unstable and questionable (Berland 1995: 344). The memory of the disappearing Old
South causes her much grief, yet she desperately tries to save the ideal image of her
youth, since the memories of the Genteel tradition offer the perfect excuse to
disguise truth as a pleasant illusion. Behind her appearance of social snobbery,
sexual propriety and flirting as an indispensable element of her genteel upbringing,
Blanche is frightened, unruly and impossible to control. In the Kowalski household,
she turns into an insecure, love-starved woman, disoriented and frail, unable to
acknowledge reality, addicted to whiskey and pipe dreams which seem to be her
416
only refuge after a number of tragic emotional and financial losses. However,
although seemingly frail at the time the play depicts her, Blanche was capable of
supporting the destitute DuBois family for probably a longer period of time, with her
"pitiful salary at the school" (Williams 2000: 480), enduring a series of tragic deaths.
The Blanche we meet at the beginning of the play has already cracked, battered by
poverty and misfortune, and is thoroughly unable to restrain her passion and her
desire.
As with many other Williamss characters, the desired happiness is sought
through romantic and sexual unions, which prove to be either short and insignificant,
or pure fantasy.
Many of Blanche's faults and examples of misconduct can be attributed to her
desperate attempt to conquer the agonizing singledom. Her greatest misfortune is the
lack of family and husband who would support her financially and morally, which
was essential for a woman in the socio-historical context of the play. This necessity
of traditional patriarchal support in the form of marriage is why Stella compromises
and stays with Stanley, although their union offers only turbulent emotional mood
swings and clear cases of domestic violence.
STELLA: (...) I know how it must have seemed to you and Im awful
sorry it had to happen, but it wasnt anything as serious as you seem to
take it. In the first place, when men are drinking and playing poker
anything can happen. Its always a powder-keg. He didnt know what he
was doing He was as good as a lamb when I came back and hes really
very, very ashamed of himself.
BLANCHE: And that that makes it alright? (Williams 2000: 505)
Stella is violently dependent on intimacies with Stanley, addicted to sexual
pleasure and unashamed to confess her emotional dependence on her victimizer, so
her position resembles to Gertrude's in Hamlet: the adulterous queen who sees
nothing wrong in remarrying and the Southern girl who traded her tradition for the
doubtful marital bliss both unwittingly abandon their closest relatives, placing them
in danger. While Gertrude's sexual passion for Claudius intensifies her son's misery
and endangers his life, Stella's devotion to Stanley and her unborn child leads to her
rejection of her metaphorical daughter her older sister who now desperately
depends on her love, care and duty. Stella's marital compromises endanger Blanche,
who turns to her younger sister for care and support the same way King Lear turns to
Cordelia, but without a kingdom she could offer as a stake in the emotional
blackmail. Stella's readiness to accept Stanley as he is complicates Blanche's
position in the turbulent household, reducing her to an unwanted outcast. As
Blanche has practically no friends she could rely on, her solitude, which is both the
cause and effect of her vulnerability, links her to Shakespeare's lonesome tragic
heroes.
Blanche's inability to acknowledge reality does not stop her from seeing
Stanley in realistic light, but she is tragically prone to fancy and thus discredited,
417
even promoted into an unreliable narrator in the eyes of the other characters, and of
the readers as well. Although her solitude and partially feigned madness connect her
to Hamlet, she also represents the set of values Hamlet reveals his disgust with in the
famous scene with Ophelia. Thus make-up becomes a symbol of falsehood and
misleading representation, and Blanche is seen as scheming and dishonest for
painting her face to hide her true age. At the same time, she is painting over her past
to hide her promiscuity and alcoholism. This interpretation leads us to conclusion
that Stanley symbolises the quest for truth, as he goes to great lengths to protect his
friend Mitch from Blanche's marital trap. Stanley plays the role of Iago, who
successfully lures Othello into believing in Desdemona's disloyalty, whereas he also
embodies Othello's disgust with frail femininity.
Seemingly less complex than Blanche and far more scandalous, the eccentric
exhibitionist Carol Cutrere from Orpheus Descending is a tragic hero crossed with
Shakespeare's wise fool. She is a rebel and a sexual libertine who simply refuses to
obey the rules, an outcast carrying a non licensed revolver who decides not to fit in
the prescribed mould and enjoy her privileged social status, choosing to turn into a
"lewd vagrant" (Williams 2000a: 28) instead. Carol has once tried to employ her
activism for purposeful ends but she only met with failure. Her ritual role of rebel
and prophet equals her to the Weird Sisters of Macbeth since she, like many
supernatural characters from Shakespeare, is more a symbol or a catalyst of the
action than a lifelike person. Similarly to Shakespeare's supernatural characters, she
remains unchanged and unaffected by changes in the play. Still, Carol is marked
with an absolutely human fear of loneliness, for when she discusses her own frailty
she says: "The act of love-making is almost unbearably painful, and yet, of course, I
do bear it, because to be not alone, even for a few moments, is worth the pain and
the danger." (Williams 2000a: 51). Seemingly compatible to the main character of
the play Val Xavier, Carol shares with him the label of "a fugitive kind" (Williams
2000a: 97): in the eyes of the both merciless and prudish society with fixed material
concerns, they are discarded, damaged goods.
Through the character of Val Xavier, the modern day Orpheus and the ultimate
artist, Orpheus Descending treats the subject of artists place in society, and the need
of an artist to transcend the material world if he is to create a valuable work of art. If
the artist is to triumph over evanescence and realize the full potential of his genius,
he or she must be liberated from the grip of reality and the bondage of everyday life.
Although the major concern of Blanche DuBois is her fading beauty, her melancholy
could well be associated with a more metaphysical lust for art which is vanishing
from the horizon of drab everyday life. Blanche lives in a state of perpetual panic
that she is losing her looks and unable of holding back the years, gladly appeasing
her fears and nurturing her fantasies with the help of alcohol: bereaved over her
terrible losses in life, Blanche becomes erratic and self-destructive like Hamlet, and
her speech becomes, like his, madness which is at times feigned but also a
playground of language. Unlike the woman in Sylvia Plath's "Lady Lazarus", the
famous poem of resurrection and affirmation of women's strength, who claims "I am
only thirty, /And like the cat I have nine times to die" (Plath 1960: 244), Blanche is
418
not prepared to use her strength. Thus she becomes a sad antipode to King Lear, who
manages to turn his madness into wisdom and to resist his wish to "crawl towards
death unburdened" (Halio 1992: 97).
While Shakespeare felt that words provide dramatic economy, Williams
lavishes words on his characters, letting them dwell on their life in endless
soliloquies which often serve to bury past rather than to dissect it. No matter how
ardently words struggle to convey the meanings and mechanisms of the world, they
set a trap for both the character and the audience. While the Renaissance tragedy
usually implies "an authorial obsession with the capacity of language to damage,
deform and mislead" (McEachern 2002: 45), it also proves language to be "the
apparatus of evil" which is "treacherous and unreliable, even in the hands of the
good" (McEachern 2002: 45). Almost all tragic heroes inhabit a world in which
language is to some degree the enemy: Othello demonstrates the power of words
used maliciously, King Lear deals with empty signs used by flatterers and liars, as
well as with the painful discovery of the distance between sound and sense. The
motive of mouth-friends used in Timon of Athens also points at the danger of
surrounding oneself with flatterers. Coriolanus is unique among Shakespeare's
tragedies for its heros persistent mistrust of language; here the tragic hero is simply
the man of action who cannot tolerate the capacity of language to mislead, as
opposed to Hamlet, the man of thought who enjoys the slips and gaps of language.
Terry Eagleton argues that Shakespeares plays "value social order and
stability" with an extraordinary eloquence, further noting that "these two aspects of
Shakespeare are in potential conflict with one another" (Eagleton 1986: xi). The
stability of signs preconditions a well-ordered political state, but Shakespeares
"belief in social stability is jeopardized by the very language in which it is
articulated" (Eagleton 1986: xi). Lacking a purely physical adequacy, language is
doomed to hover between the equally unhappy solutions of understatement and
linguistic inflation, both strategies of expression endangering social stability to a
great extent, as The Tragedy of King Lear shows us. The old kings greatest mistake
is the crass utilitarian exactitude with which he believes human love can be
quantified. He arranges "a self-gratifying charade" (Kermode 2000: 185), and we
sense that his giving his kingdom away in the opening scene of the play is a selfish
act. Regal generosity is being bought with flattery which is required to be true to
life. In an attempt to establish the adequacy between the word and the world, Lears
daughters are tempted to choose between a disastrous scarcity of words and their
profitable profusion.
Blanche's fantasy role play relies on a specific kind of linguistic inflation, and
she persists in impersonating either a damsel in distress (for Mitch), or a fragile
Southern belle who needs to be waited on (for her sister): but the most dramatic and
the most complex is the role of the pervert preacher who conceals too many dark
secrets and harbours a wish to reach her former glory. Despite her narcissism and
ardent wish to manipulate, Blanche's deception of others and herself is not a
malicious intent, but rather a heart-broken retreat to a romantic time and happier
moments before disaster struck her life. Inviting comparison to a variety of
419
Shakespeares heroines ranging from Ophelia to Lady Macbeth, from Viola to
Cleopatra, this failed Southern belle has turned into an epitome of both dismal and
blissful human condition. Her unnatural obsession with light reminds us of the
metaphorical candle from Macbeths final soliloquy; her constant bathing owes to
Lady Macbeths attempts to wash away the damn spot that remains in her soul after
the murder of Duncan. Blanche's anguish and suffering recall Lears "wheel of fire"
(Halio 1992: 237). Most of all, Blanche DuBois is Williamss Hamlet, representative
of the writers obsession with "this mortal coil" (Edwards 1985: 146), or, in
Blanches words, "the long parade to the grave" (Williams 2000: 126). Blanche is
familiar with art and literature, a learned woman who compares Mitch to Samson or
even to Rosencavalier, speaking English enriched with Latinisms but slipping into
utterly vulgar idiom as her life in New Orleans turns into the long parade of her own
misfortunes. The scope of her linguistic expression, at times inventive and playful
but also callous and vulgar, reminds us of Hamlet's both learned and baudy idiom.
Shakespeare and Williams invest their efforts into building characters that show the
decline and fall of the intellectual, always being demonic and self-destructive at the
same time.
On a more superficial level, Blanche's mixture of playfulness, coquetry and
pensiveness certainly evokes Hamlets "antic disposition" (Edwards 1985: 113) as
the only resort of a hyper-sensitive soul. Blanche and Hamlet are both disgusted
with the world which is unable to fulfill their expectations and needs, but find a
solace in turning that world into stage, and transforming their miserable life into a
captivating performance. While Hamlet accuses Gertrude of having betrayed his
father for her own sexual pleasure, Blanche sees Stellas sexual fulfillment as a
direct betrayal of the ancestral home and name. Like Hamlet castigating his mother,
Blanche tries to convince her sister to aspire to something higher, to something more
than instant sexual gratification.
The exceptional theatrical representation of Blanches gradual descent into
madness brings to mind Ophelias mental breakdown after her fathers death. Both
female characters assume new roles in their madness and act in their own imaginary
plays. The cruel stud Stanley sees inadvertently through Blanches role changing:
STANLEY: You come in here and sprinkle the place with powder and
spray perfume and cover the light-bulb with a paper lantern, and lo and behold
the place has turned into Egypt and you are the Queen of the Nile! Sitting on
your throne and swilling down my liquor! (Williams 2000: 525)
Stanleys image of Blanche as an Egyptian queen results from the recognition
of the theatrical elements in her disposition, such as fancy, illusion, cheap but
effective tricks, make-up and costume. "To Blanches Hamlet-like musings on death
and her Egyptian theatre, Stanley Kowalskis rebuttal signals the birth of a new
American drama appropriating its native" (Meskill 2004: 158). The bathroom is
turned into Blanches tent of miracles, her sanctuary and hideaway where she can
pretend to be Cleopatra. Blanche becomes an image of tragic greateness, desperately
420
trying to blur the edges between real life and her projection of herself. The two
"queens of the Nile" (Williams 2000: 525) exist in the eye of the beholder, even if
the beholder is malicious, ready to tear away the theatrical illusion and smash it.
Blanche is not supposed to function as a model of unfullfilled desire, whereas
Shakespeare uses Cleopatra as a stock figure of the Western imagination and the
broken promise of hedonism and lust. Cleopatra offers a model of carefree life
immersed in self-oblivion, which is similar to Blanche's insisting on beautifying the
dingy apartment of Stanley and Stella. The parallel between Desdemona and
Blanche is a curious one: whether undeservingly or not, neither managed to escape
calumny. Stanley sees it as an almost religious duty to reveal Blanche's promiscuity
to Mitch, wishing to save him from disgrace and shame. Although Stenley is self-
serving in revealing Blanche's past, his disclosure is an attempt at purgation of her
feelings. Williams willfully exposes the male bonding theme which connects Mitch
and Stanley to their mighty predecessors Othello and Iago. The game of poker turns
into a ritual of initiation into a masculine world of ruthlessness and arrogance. Cat
on a Hot Tin Roof proves to be closer to A Streetcar Named Desire if we read it as a
story of a dysfunctional Southern family. Tension, sibling rivalry, gossip and greed
affect Brick's marriage. Maggie Pollitt is, contrary to Blanch, blatantly realistic
about her future prospects, and she differs from the moth of Laurel in one important
respect: the Cat is unable to create her own world of fantasy. Maggie tries to
overcome difficulties in a traditional way, using her energy and cunning strategies,
since she is well aware of the fact that it is not the world of dreams and illusions she
is captured in: her obstacles and impediments are almost palpable, her pain springs
from a life situation which offers not a slightest glimpse of hope. She is stuck at the
hot roof of her own, unable to escape from the painful obsession with Brick the
same way she is incapable of letting go the estate of the Pollitts. Living in a material
world, Maggie is a crude, realistic overachiever who never lets herself slip into the
world of pipe dreams and illusions, unlike Blanche who is lost in the world of fake
Southern gentility, unable to recover and obtain a new, brighter future. With her
stubborn devotion for her estranged husband, Maggie is a curious replica of Lady
Macbeth, as she also desplays mock fortitude and readiness to use the valour of her
tongue as her only weapon.
Similar to Shakespeare, Williams readily uses metatheatrical approach,
resolving existential conflicts and developing abstract issues in the manner of
"Chinese box" or "play-within-the-play", using theatrical metaphors and theatrical
reflexivity (Guilbert 2004: 116). The Christian moral and ethical framework is
always at hand for Williams and Faulkner alike, and were it for the Shakespearean
influences it would have been present to a much lesser extent. Much like the art of
William Faulkner, the plays of Tennessee Williams transform the crucial elements
of Shakespearean drama into American idiom, and even the plays with prevailing
mythical pattern offer an array of echoes and resonances, such as Suddenly Last
Summer (introducing issues ranging from identity to insanity), or Orpheus
Descending, which is a staggering mixture of sexual desire, revenge and imminent
destruction.
421
According to Sermin Lynn Meskill, one of the central themes of A Streetcar
Named Desire seems to be "the impossibility of making theatre, emblematized in the
destitute figure of Blanche DuBois", (Meskill 2004: 158). Blanche's inner struggle
can be interpreted as "the struggle of a new theatre to be born out of an old" (Meskill
2004: 158), the same as the new South imminently prevails over the quaint values of
gentility (Fleche 1997: 50).
Tennessee Williams writes about psychological and spiritual displacement, loss
of connections, loneliness and self deception which trace us back to Shakespeare's
tragic heroes. The same way Shakespeare confronts the individual with the
repressive and hostile environment, Williams pushes his characters into a conflict
with a mechanized society, the conflict which exposes tensions of the American
family, decline and fall of moral values and challenges of Puritan morality. Many of
his female characters are individuals psychologically trapped in the myths, self-
delusions, and pretensions of the gentility of the agrarian, Cavalier past. Some of
them belong to the notorious Southern wench kind (Falk 1961: 20), passionate in
behavior, sex-driven, in conflict with Puritan mores, but also vulnerable and
oversensitive. Williams's female characters are mostly outsiders, emotionally
deformed, dissatisfied and dysfunctional, some of them neurotic, some of them
insane, often consumed by time and decay, but resisting to guilt and despair as long
as they can. The song that Blanche sings in scene seven, "Paper Moon", describes
the way love turns the world into a phony fantasy, since lovers reject to accept the
material world and prefer to believe in their imagined reality. The idea of fantasy as
the privileged realm of reality sums up Blanches approach to life:
BLANCHE: I'll tell you what I want. Magic (...) Yes, yes magic! I try to
give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don't tell truth. I tell what
ought to be truth. And if that is sinful, then let me be damned for it! (Williams
2000: 545)
The protagonist in this case is, as elsewhere in the plays by Tennessee
Williams, an alienated tragic hero seeking to belong in an eroded jungle society
(Falk 1961: 144), or an Everyman trying to cope through false compensations of
pipe dreams, or a muted survivor living a life of quiet desperation, a victim of
societal pressure, animal desires, and loss of integrity. Too many possible
explanations show that the true art escapes definition. In that respect, Williams is
among the best writers who have ever examined the frightening depths of human
nature.
References
Berland, L. and Warner, M. (1995). "What Does Queer Theory Teach Us about X?".
PMLA 3: 343-350.
422
Bigsby, C. W. E. Modern American Drama, 1945-1990. (1992). New York:
Cambridge University Press.
Bloom, H. (ed). (1987). Modern Critical Views: Tennessee Williams. Chelsea House
Publishers.
Eagleton, T. (1986). William Shakespeare. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Edwards, P. (ed.). (1985). Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. The New Cambridge
Shakespeare. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Falk, S. L. (1961). Tennessee Williams. New Haven: College and University Press.
Fleche, A. (1997). Mimetic Disillusion: Eugene O'Neill, Tennessee Williams, and
US Dramatic Realism. Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama
Press.
Guilbert, G.-C. ( 2004). "Queering and Dequeering the Text: Tennessee Williamss
A Streetcar Named Desire". Cercles 10: 85-116.
Haley, E. D. (1998). Certain Moral Values: A Rhetoric of Outcasts in the Plays of
Tennessee Williams. Tuscaloosa: The University of Alabama Press.
Halio, J. L. (ed.). (1992). The Tragedy of King Lear. The New Cambridge
Shakespeare. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Kermode, F. (2000). Shakespeares Language. London: Penguin Books.
McEachern, C. (ed.). (2002). The Cambridge Companion to Shakespearean
Tragedy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Meskill, S. L. (2004). Out, Out, Brief Candle: Shakespearean Echoes in A Streetcar
Named Desire. Cercles 10: 147-158.
Plath, S. (1960). The Collected Poems. Cutchogue: Bucaneer Books.
Williams, T. (2000). Plays 1937-1955. New York: Literary Classics of the United
States, Inc.
Williams, T. (2000a). Plays 1957-1980. New York: Literary Classics of the United
States, Inc.
423
Sonja Jankov
Novi Sad, Republic of Serbia and Prague, Czech Republic
[email protected]
A PORTRAIT OF THE ARCHITECT AT FIFTY FOUR: PETER
GREENAWAYS CENOTAPH FOR JOYCEAN MODERNITY
Abstract This paper regards linguistic aspects of James Joyces novels A Portrait of
the Artist as a Young Man and Stephen Hero as temporal gestalt (shape of an
entitys complete form). Simultaneously, it traces stills from Peter Greenaways
1987 film The Belly of an Architect that reflect the directors concern with visual
reproduction, citation and remediation. As if following dictum per aspera ad astra
that Dedaluss dean used in a lecture on the sublime, Greenaway portrays Stourley
Kracklite. For this purpose, he materialises tienne-Louis Boulles planetarium (the
cenotaph for Sir Isaac Newton) and uses postcard images of Rome that serve in
place of Stephens diary. Changing, through immediacy of film medium, the
postcard ontology of postality, envois (Derrida 1987) into complete arrival,
Greenaways film enables return to Joyces texts where everything seen is reality,
but reality of thinking process and not of actual happenings in space and time
(iek 2006).
Key words: Joyce, Greenaway, time-image, aspect, architecture, postmodernism,
remediation, writing
1. Joyces use of intertextuality and Greenaways approach
to history of film
On the opening pages of Jacques Derridas study Of Grammatology, term
writing is used
for all that gives rise to an inscription in general, whether it is literal or not
and even if what it distributes in space is alien to the order of the voice:
cinematography, choreography, of course, but also pictorial, musical, sculptural
writing. [Derrida 1997: 9].
It is precisely from this perspective that recent collection of essays entitled Reel
away the reel world: James Joyce and Cinema, edited by John McCourt,
approaches the writing of James Joyce. The essays are focused primarily on
cinematic techniques employed in certain chapters of Ulysses and wider cultural
events surrounding the opening of the Volta cinema in Dublin. Apart from that, they
offer one allegorical reference to A Portrait within detailed comparison of Joyces
424
approach to writing to Jean-Luc Godards concern with film editing. Additionally,
almost all other attempts at finding sharing points Joyces writing has with more
recent directors styles point towards Joyces anticipation of experimental and
postmodern cinema in Finnegans Wake.
An intention of this paper is to demonstrate how, instead of polyphony and
polylogue, we are witnessing poly-mediality in poetics of these two artists, namely
James Joyce and Peter Greenaway. In a place of metaphor of panopticism an
arrangement of various points from which one spot is seen, or stylistic perspectives
from which one theme is approached we are encountering various mediums
through which a story is told in works of Joyce and Greenaway. All of these
mediums had been transcribed into text or film. Characterised by concern with
various positions from which meaning becomes possible (MacCabe 1979: 4),
Joyces texts in their use of intertextuality are comparable to Greenaways
spatialised databases (Manovich 2007: 55) in their reflections on the history of the
visual and cinema. In order to present this in the paper, at first will be shortly
outlined general characteristics of Greenaways films and Joyces novel Finnegans
Wake. Analysis will show why A Portrait should be related to the 1987 film, in
contrast to the Wake, which is by its structure closer to Greenaways later, digitally
defined films. The Belly of an Architect is very simple, if compared to later
Greenaways films. Within it, no electric lights are playing an important structural
material for the image, there is no lighthouse, fireworks, phosphorus rope or stars on
a girls dress as in Drowning by Numbers, no overlapping of several transparent
moving images. In fact, nothing visually emphasized except from a photo-cameras
flash that serves more to dnouement in the story than as a structural part of an
image.
Furthermore, since this Greenaways film is concerned with architecture, we
will argue that his choice of monuments and ruins of Rome, along with Boulles
projects, is closer to the 1916 Joyces novel. Bauhaus principles and postmodern
architectural designs by the end of 1980s and later, on the other hand, are closer to
Finnegans Wake. There is a reason why the architect and the director choose Rome,
where all phases of the history of architecture are visible, to exhibit work of a
French architect, which, might be said, anticipates work of Buckminster Fuller. In
relation to A Portrait, film The Belly of an Architect by its medium, styles and
montage appears as postmodern, while in reference to later Greenaways films and
Joyces Finnegans Wake it stands as modern piece to postmodern ones. As a result,
the main concern of this Greenaways film appears to be the image of time,
presented even through the process of writing, instead of the image of space -
architecture, the most spatial-related of the arts. Finally, narration and languages of
Stephen Dedalus and Stourley Kracklite will be studied, along with description of
postcards interpolated into the film and seen as embodied Gilles Deleuzes theory of
time-image. In that way, we will endeavour to show how of A Portrait, when
approached after Greenaways film, could be said that everything seen there is
reality, but reality of thinking processes and not of actual happenings in space and
425
time (iek 2006). Correspondingly, the film is not a sum total of images, but
temporal gestalt (Merleau-Ponty 1971: 54).
2. Joyces Finnegans Wake as Greenaways later films
During Saloni 2008, Peter Greenaway revived Leonardo da Vincis
masterpiece The Last Supper at Santa Maria delle Grazie Church in Milan. Through
live projections of the paintings digital simulacra of the same size and scale, the
exact surface texture of the original had been featured. This video, made by
sophisticated technology and featuring a degree of resolution never reached before,
combines numerous languages. They include visual art, cinema, poetry, music and
some of the most cutting-edge new technologies ever applied to Leonardos fresco.
The video may well serve to underline Derridas thesis how since the beginning of
twentieth century, transcriptions from one media into another, seemed to be
tragically necessary (cited in McGowan 1991: 98. Emphasis added). Many a time
attempts at restoring the frescos initial aspect were made since its ageing process
was more rapid than usual due to Da Vincis experiments with colours and
technique. For the same purpose, Greenaway completely decomposed it and filtered
every painted surface. Fragment by fragment, he provided spectators with entire
complexity of the masterpiece, with all its phases and the final visual effect painting
originally probably had.
Greenaways approach to Leonardos painting may be seen as analogical to
Joyces method of writing Finnegans Wake. In the latter, textual piece, the structure
of language is highlighted, but it is used in such a way that it troubles the distinction
between signal and noise in a message, implying unintended information by
intended one. Video process of restoring, on the other hand, evokes Joyces manner
to the degree when visual language is decomposed to the smallest parts, bits.
Characteristics of each among the bits is further systematised and changed. While in
the Wake we read Boccuccias Enameron (Joyce 1999: 561.24) within which
lexical and grammatical parts are re-built in gradation, in Greenaways video hands
of Christ and apostles are separately highlighted, so that saturation and light/colour
balance of each pair can be restored. In prolongation, the process is repeated with
faces, pieces of clothes, etc. Perspective is also varied within the video, along with
possible differentiations in direction of lightning and length of shadows, showing
why Leonardos choice was the best to paint The Last Supper in chiaroscuro
coalesce (Joyce 1999: 107.29). Rodney Farnsworth has argued that Greenaway
creates a filmic world apart with its own laws (Farnsworth 2001: 41), which also
does Joyce, while writing Finnegans Wake in such a manner that it requires of us to
learn English anew.
More similarities can be certainly drown between Joyces Finnegans Wake and
montage in Greenaways television series Dante Cantos (eight parts) and film
Prosperos Books. Also, very fin-negating appears the concept of voluminous Tulse
426
Luper Suitcases that, being mostly digital-based, give spectators the possibility to
choose in what direction should the film proceed. In an essay Classic Shakespeare
for All: Forbidden Planet and Prosperos Books, Two Screen Adaptations of The
Tempest, Sara Martin notes that the director challenges through technology the
authority of Shakespearean The Tempest, being [l]ess concerned by technophobia
than by the dissociation between high art and high technology (Martin 2000: 43).
Martin further reminds that Greenaway once declared that he is mainly interested in
allegory rather than in three-dimensional characters or human psychology,
concluding that Shakespearean allegory is adapted in Greenaways film to explain
how the imagination works. The author finds aestheticism of film to be clearly
inspired both by Greenaways passion for sixteenth and seventeenth century
painting especially Dutch but also by the Elizabethan and Jacobean masques.
Greenaway pays as much homage to Inigo Jones, the celebrated masque designer, as
to late twentieth-century technology (Martin 2000: 44-45).
Additionally, Herbet Klein argued that the role of writing in Prosperos Books
is an ideal portrayal of cognitive and pragmatic change (Klein 2002). Prosperos
books are the instrument of isolation and of interaction, of total unrelatedness and
at the same time, of connectedness, same as the postcards in The Belly of the
Architect. Kracklite starts writing them when he realises that he is loosing his wife,
health and directorship over an exhibition of Boulles technical drawings and
models he had been preparing for ten years. Greenaway has deconstructed the books
into both films and their equivalences within a cognitive process, which in turn
determinates and criticises perception of them. Kracklites postcards of Rome, on
the other hand, although remediated in the same manner, appear to be more
deconstructed images of Rome and portrait of how the city is perceived, since they
never leave it. Earlier than 1991 Prosperos Books, The Belly explores the status of
textuality and message without using high-definition digital technologies and
multiple frames. It is worth noting that the script was entirely written by Greenaway,
as in cases of Walk Through H, film based on images of drawings, aquarelles with
traces of writing, and Nightwatching, film about Rembrandt van Rijn, in which
visual aestheticism is entirely based on the painters works.
For these reasons, and more closely related to an installation The Stairs-
Munich-Projection from 1995, Manovich sees Greenaways work as a spatialized
database. Walking from one to another of almost hundred screens the director put
through Munich, one follows the history of cinema, year by year, represented by
each of the screen. Although Greenaway usually interpolated books, calligraphy,
paintings, fresco and drawings into the filmic image, in The Belly the medium of
film is the same stuff that postcards, photocopies and architecture are made of.
However, the architecture of Rome is in the same relation to pieces of modern and
postmodern architecture, as postcards are to film. This can be also said of Stephen
Dedaluss language in the diary in relation to literary writing. Moreover, it is
precisely through these fragmented, ruined forms from or about the past that
personal languages of both protagonists reveal. Thus in postcards, as in Prosperos
427
books and diary, [e]verything is quotation, and already a reflection which is then
reflected upon once more (Klein 2002).
1
Through analysing possible relations of Joyces writing to architecture, we will
further argue that due to the allusions that Greenaways film makes to A Portrait we
can perceive Rome as an open work, an open novel whose non-existing parts readers
have to imagine. In that way, it will be possible to distinguish which aspects of the
film are preserving as cenotaph Joyces modern novel and why is Boulles
planetarium, seen in a form of moving images, also representative of modernism.
3. James Joyce and modern architecture
In a study described as the first major attempt to think the relationship of
poetics to technology and hypertextuality in the works of Joyce, it is noted that
Le Corbusiers interest in structural harmony led him to devise the
Modulor, a measuring principle which combines harmonious mathematical
relationships with the proportions of the human body. Judicious use of the
Modulor scale would enable an architect to harmonise every element in a
building with the whole - a type of apparent architectonics that resembles
Joyces own interest in the relationship of the body to architecture - a theme
that is both neo-Platonic (the body as dwelling place of the soul) and
Heideggerean (language as dwelling place of man). [Armand 2003: 24].
In 1916, Le Corbusier designed Villa au Bord de la Mer (Boesiger, Stonorov
1943: 28) where he used for the first time most of those elements he later developed
in 1927. These were demonstrated then in the Villa Savoye as five points of a new
architecture based on new opportunities of reinforced concrete. One of the points
are pilotis supporting columns that elevate a house into air, but, providing that
they are set inside the house, can enable free faade to be built of light transparent
walls or horizontal windows. As the mostly stylised result of the architects care for
highly lightened interiors appears Notre Dame du Haut, also known as Ronchamp
Commentary. The base of one outside wall is thicker than its top, so that, in
1
This theme of reflected reflection seems to be light-motive in Greenaways opus. With regards
to it, Rodney Farnsworth quotes Simon Watney on allegorical significance in The Draughtsmans
Contract, since it is thus no accident, as Greenaway is the first to point out that the central figure, the
draughtsman, has in 1694 an optical device to help him fix his landscape on paper, a device which in
principle, is little different from that used by the cameraman in 1982 to fix the landscape of The
Draughtsmans Contract on film. This analogy is reinforced as he describes how the camera retains,
like the draughtsman in the film, a steady, uncommitted, observant, uncritical eye [] This is the very
nature of allegory - to demand further elucidation and commentary, beyond any closure of literal
narrative devices. See: Simon Watney, Gardens of Speculation: Landscape in The Draughtsmans
Contract Undercut 7/8 (Spring 1983) 7, or Farnsworth 2001: 80.
428
combination with differently sized windows, variously large beams of light are
directed towards the centre of the church. However, of more importance to mapping
possible mutual points in structures of buildings from the first half of twentieth
century and Joyces novels, in particularly Finnegans Wake,
2
is another principle
that Le Corbusier demonstrated in the Villa Savoye and even earlier in 1922 within
Maison Citrohan. Due to concrete, any house from then on could have free plan and
free floors, which was impossible earlier because these depended on supporting
walls. Adolf Loos and Frank Lloyd Wright further developed this invention. Their
masterpieces, the Villa Mller and Fallingwater, also called Kaufmann Residence,
share certain structural similarities with the Wake. Both of these buildings were
designed later than in 1923, when a thesis Art and Technology New Unity
(Wingler 1993: xviii) was introduced as the third programmatic goal of Bauhaus and
made the main influence on future architectural design.
Adolf Loos, who taught at Bauhaus, proclaimed in his 1908 essay Ornament
and Crime that ornament is crime, referring to Art Nouveau and arguing for the
aesthetic charm of the ornament-free, of beauty which could be achieved trough
proportion and by allowing materials to reveal their true nature (cited in Wingler
1993: 2).
3
If we look at tienne-Louis Boulles planetarium (1784), it seems to
represent the same aesthetic principle. However, Looss Raumplan, demonstrated
in 1930 within base of Villa Mller formed by four reinforced concrete pillars, may
stand as the spatial metaphor of the circular structure of narratives employed in the
Wake. The Raumplan is used for the lower part of the Villa, while the individual
rooms are freely hanging as if in a cascade off the deck, in ordering and dimensions
adequate to their functions. In Finnegans Wake several narrative structures are
multiplied and varied, so that the impression of circular historic course is achieved
even within smaller parts. These are more or less freely placed within the uniting
circular form of the novel whose - conditionally termed the last sentence is cut to
be continued as the first one. Besides, textual composition of Wakes second chapter
of part II reveals Joyces approach to composition of marginal texts and footnotes,
parts whose spatial aspects are undividable from their importance and function.
Loos, similarly thought of space, which he described as following:
2
Zaha Hadids buildings and the change architects style brings into history of architecture
remind very much of Finnegans Wake in the structure of its minor levels. Her architectural design has
been labelled as deconstruction in architecture that is visible both in separate pieces and in Hadids
approach to urbanism. In fact, Hadid in early paintings, which reflect her account of urban structures,
deals with forms in the same way Joyce approaches language in the Wake. Furthermore, as of a
contemporary architect, Hadids style still develops, while critical accounts of Joyces novel are still
revealing new things unsaid about it. However, the pairs urbanism-Finnegans Wake and post-modern
architecture-the Wake require separate studies to be analysed. With urbanism, the study of chaotic and
harmonic expansion of cities, the Wake shares many joining points specially if having in mind that
Joyce last book is the book of dark and that large cities in nigh indeed seem as constellations from
distance.
3
For direct source, see: Adolf Loos, Ornament and Crime and Die Potemkinsche Stadt:
Verschollene Schriften, 1897-1933.
429
My architecture is not conceived in plans, but in spaces. I do not design
floor plans, facades, sections. I design spaces. For me, there is no ground floor,
first floor etc... For me, there are only contiguous, continual spaces, rooms,
anterooms, terraces etc. Stories merge and spaces relate to each other. Every
space requires a different height: the dining room is surely higher than the
pantry thus the ceilings are set at different levels. To join these spaces in such
a way that the rise and fall are not only unobservable but also practical. [Lhota,
Loos 1930, stenograph].
Creating an academic, theoretical and practical synthesis of all forms of visual
expression with architecture, the crystallized expression of mankinds noblest
thoughts (Forgcs 1991: 18), Bauhaus founders agreed with Plato who by the
beauty of shapes considered straight lines and circles, and shapes plane or solid.
[] These are not, like other things, beautiful relatively, but always and absolutely
(Bartram 2004: 53). Bauhaus workshops were oriented towards this poetic direction,
which resulted in one of the most poetic pieces of architecture. Following two
principles, that provided for every individual an individual style and for every place
an appropriate formal language, Frank Lloyd Write created the Fallingwater. One
of the buildings main purposes was to integrate interiors with natural surroundings,
4
achieved by horizontal bands of windows Write introduced in 1904 Martin house in
Buffalo, New York. Working on projects and realisation of the Fallingwater took
three years before Finnegans Wake was finished and it is possible to find similar
attitudes towards play and structure within these two works. Unlike in the case of
Villa Mller, all horizontal spaces of the Fallingwater are based on one carrying
vertical, which is partly the original rock the house is placed on. We may compare
this kind of spatial composition to the mentioned chapter in part II of Finnegans
Wake. Moreover, the waterfall, whose course is following the structure of Writes
building, is alike the [|an outside of the page|] riverrun of Finnegans Wake.
In contrast to the architecture of the first half of the twentieth century,
postmodern works exhibit ever more dynamic revolution in the languages and
forms (cited in McGowan 1991: 181) as both John McGowan and Frederic
Jameson emphasised. As metonymic building for postmodern hyperspace, Jameson
names John Portmans The Bonaventure Hotel, due to its elevators and escalators
for communication between interior spaces and glass-like facades. In those glasses
the city is reflected, resulting in one building which embodies the urban space. The
same constructing concept was used in Michael Jantzens 2002 Malibu Video House
4
In contrast to Frank Lloyd Writes buildings, Frederic Jameson is arguing against possibility of
individual body to locate itself within postmodern hyperspace. He notes how this alarming disjunction
between the body and its built environment which is to the initial bewilderment of the older
modernism as the velocities of spacecraft are to those of automobile can itself stand as the symbol
and analogue of that even sharper dilemma, which is the incapacity of our minds, at least at present, to
map the great global, multinational and decentred communicational network in which we find
ourselves caught as individual objects (Jameson 1991: 15-16).
430
where the faade is covered with thin gas-plasma television screens, which create a
full-size video interface with the real world. These screens enable full reflection of
the sea for someone standing outside, while for those in the inside even the sound of
sea is provided, equal to that one on the outside. Exterior space, not originally part
of these buildings, becomes integrated within them, by a similar way now history of
literature is used within Finnegans Wake.
Nevertheless, we may ask what are tienne-Louis Boulles planetarium and
architecture of Rome presented in the Greenaways film having in common with
buildings previously analysed? First of all, serving as a monument, planetarium is
not meant to have all functional parts private and public building share. Thus, it
appears as very similar to basilicas, fountains and remains of ancient Roman
architecture. Secondly, being unrealised, it becomes mere image, a drawing that is
mechanically reproduced in books and Greenaways film that represents both history
of writing mediums and history of architectural styles at the same time.
4. Aesthetic aspects of the two portraits
(one has thoughts of that eternal Rome) (Joyce 1999: 298.32-33).
Prior to concluding a dialogue with proverb per aspera ad astra, the dean of
studies in A Portrait, made a call to distinguish the beautiful and the sublime []
to distinguish between moral beauty and material beauty (Joyce 1958: 188).
Contextually, he indicated that sublime is an aspect of material beauty. Immanuel
Kant reflected upon the distinction and dependence of moral on material beauty in a
claim that two things always leave him speechless the starry night above him and
the moral principles inside him. Later, Peter Greenaway repeated this thesis in The
Belly of an Architect. This film, from the opening shots, demonstrates the directors
fascination for symmetry (van der Pol 2005: 214) and underlines it by introduced
character of little Italian boy. Thanks to him, an effect of mise-en-abyme or portrait-
within-the portrait is created, but also the visual perception-within-the visual
perception, since the boy sees a model of lighthouse, another light-related Boulles
building. The boys future is left completely open in the film, but there are
indications that he will become an architect. As for Boulles buildings, although the
lighthouse is seen, the realised planetarium, or, more precisely, its failing into a
birthday cake, is left barely tasted. Nevertheless, even in that form, it presents
aesthetically rich visual material.
In A Portrait and Stephen Hero, architecture serves as an agency of thought.
Thus, we read how when [Stephen] had made a skeleton map of the city in his
mind he followed boldly one of its central lines until he reached the Custom House
(Joyce 1958: 64). Similar approach is visible in a piece of dialogue that changes
during the genesis of the novel:
431
Yes, Stephen said, smiling in spite of himself at Cranlys way of
remembering thoughts in connection with places. (Joyce 1958: 248)
Yes, yes, I remember, said Stephen, who hated Cranlys method of
remembering the past, what did I tell you? (Joyce 1966: 143)
Sculpture also becomes related to the process of cognition and writing,
although, in reality, Lynch would have had little trouble in scratching his name on
[the Venus of Praxiteless] backside (Cullen 2009: 38). On the contrary, Kracklite
answers about his identity to a police officer while standing in front of a marble
belly, the fragment of Colossus of Constantine. Jean-Michel Rabat, in an
introduction Aprs mot, le dluge: the ego as symptom, correlates the question of
name to the Modern Librarys issued list of the hundred best novels of previous
century where Joyce was the only novelist to whom [] several photographs were
devoted (Rabat 2002: 10-11). Contextualised within this critical portraying,
Rabats discussion on A Portrait continues with Lacans linking of emmoi with
de moi (of me):
By stressing the homophony of je nomme (I name) with jeune
homme the young man of Joyces Portrait of the Artist, Lacan follows in
the steps of a young man Joyce with whom he shares revolt and [] the
creation of a radically new language allowing them to think originally. [(Rabat
2002: 17].
5
While Stephens diary begins on March 20
th
, Stourley writes on the back of
postcard of Mausoleo di Augusto on Monday, May 20
th
. Afterwards, postcards
include those of the Typewriter on July 31
st
, of Villa Adriana on Tuesday, August
6
th
, of Piazza di S. Pietro on Wednesday, August 7
th
, while with an image of Forum
Romain he wonders on Thursday, August 22
nd
why Boulle never came to Rome.
The last one is filled on Monday, February 10
th
, moments before a doctor told him a
5
In relation to Stephens language and of importance to link Joyces writing to postmodernism,
perhaps one should regard work of Buckminster Fuller who taught at Black Mountain College. Fuller is
recognised as pioneer in thinking globally while, combining architectural design and engineering,
developed Geodesic Dome. This patent follows the same methodology of Walther Bauersfelds design
for the Zeiss Planetarium, built twenty years prior to Fullers. A unique language style in Fullers thirty
publications is characterised by long sentences, unusual compound words (omniwell-informed,
intertransformative, omni-interaccommodative, omniself-regenerative) and use of the word Universe
without the definite or indefinite articles with capital letter. Instead of the words down and up that
refer to a planar concept of direction inconsistent with human experience, Fuller argued that in and
out should be used, since they better describe an object's relation to a gravitational center. He also
used world-around instead of worldwide and sunsight/sunclipse replacing sunrise and sunset
to rotate the geocentric predisposition of major pre-Copernican celestal mechanics. Furthermore, he
invented the term tensegrity from tensional integrity. See: Wikipedia and Synergetics: Explorations in
the Geometry of Thinking, available at: http://www.rwgrayprojects.com/synergetics/toc/toc.html.
432
diagnosis. In the study Cinema II: The Time-Image, Gilles Deleuze argues that the
principal act of cinema is to give us the image of time (Deleuze 1989: 34), which
is in Greenaways film realised through postcards. They function as pure optical
situations, id est time-images. In conclusion, Deleuze claims that Benjamins art of
reproductions is art of automatic movement (Deleuze 1989: 264) which The Belly
seems to demonstrate with the sculpture of August. As a unique piece of art, it
becomes technically reproducible through film images when Kracklite photocopies
the postcard with image of this sculpture. Since the postcards no longer function to
lessen the distance between a receiver and Rome, they become pure images, a type
of media within Greenaways rhetoric. They become reflective genres being
genuine categories through which the film passes (Deleuze 1989: 184).
Joyces concern with light and image is emphasised through his use of adverb
in following examples:
He had been thrown by the fellows machine lightly on the cinderpath and
his spectacles had been broken in three pieces []. (Joyce 1958: 38)
[] it thrilled him to think of it in the silence when the pens scraped
lightly. (Joyce 1958: 44)
Then in the dark and unseen by the other two he rested the tips of the
fingers of one hand upon the palm of the other hand, scarcely touching it
lightly. (Joyce 1958: 81)
In these sentences the contexts within which Joyce places the word is important
for aesthetic value of the text. In the first example the writer deliberately chooses
Stephens spectacles to be broken (after being thrown lightly) - not Stephens
fingernail, nose or elbow. Spectacles are related to clearness of seeing and, as such,
to light and visual sensation. In the second example, although lightly refers to
auditory appearance, the pens and visual lines they leave are, again, indicating
something that is related to the sight, to the visual and to the light. In the third
example, the adverb is used in, probably, the best situation to describe its meaning
being tactile-oriented, but this action is contextualized by darkness and distracted
attention of the other two who are unable to see what is happening. This darkness
and movement unseen by the other two that results in tactile sensation are also
aspects that are primarily related to the visualization. In this respect, the adverb
lightly in these sentences can be read as derivate of noun light where being
touched lightly would mean to be touched so slightly as if by the light, so that a
feeling it more recognised as a change in temperature conditioned by a sun-ray
falling upon skin than as a tactile pressure or pain.
Furthermore, narration also seems to point towards, what Benjamin later
defined as technical reproducibility, since it describes in advance the upcoming
repetition of syntax:
433
Cranly gripped his arm tightly to check his tongue, smiling uneasily, and
repeated: Easy, easy, easy! (Joyce 1958: 196, emphasis added)
[] He stood at the foot of the staircase, [] nodding his head often and
repeating:
Not a doubt of it, Mr Hacket! Very fine! Not a doubt of it! (Joyce
1958: 197-99, emphasis added)
Due to variety of styles, Keith Williams in a recent paper An Individuating
Rhythm: Rapid Photography and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man correlated
A Portraits innovative form to Joyces earlier speculations about representing
consciousness (Williams June 16
th
2010). Driving concepts and dynamic phrasing,
fluid succession of presents implied in the past, according to Williams, mirror key
characteristics of rapid photography, materialistically achieved vision as, for
example, by Eadward Muybridges Zoopraxiscope, a breakthrough towards the
first cinematographic devices as Cinematograph. The rhythm of Muybridges proto-
cinematic device figured dissection of physical motion, while in Joyces novel it
underlines the protagonists psycho-sensory processes and form of the novel, which,
as cinema, shows very slowly how motion is composed. In The Film and the New
Psychology, Maurice Merleau-Ponty argues that [t]he idea we have of the world
would be overturned if we could succeed in seeing the intervals between things []
as objects (Merleau-Ponty 1971: 48). The moving image we see is exactly that
interval between two photographs, and, thus, film is metaphor of both visual
perception and thinking process as such. That Joyce was aware of this, perhaps the
best demonstrates the following passage from the third chapter of A Portrait:
The slide was shot back. The penitent emerged from the side of the box.
The farther side was drawn. A woman entered quietly and deftly where the first
penitent had knelt. The faint murmur began again. []
The slide was shot back. A penitent emerged from the farther side of the
box. The near slide was drawn. A penitent entered where the other penitent had
come out. A soft whispering noise floated in vaporous cloudlets out of the box.
It was the woman: soft whispering cloudlets, soft whispering vapour,
whispering and vanishing. []
The slide was shot to suddenly. The penitent came out. He was next. He
stood up in terror and walked blindly into the box. (Joyce 1958: 140, emphases
added)
Prior to the Greenaways film, A Portrait stands as an agent of changing
mediums of Derridas concept of writing, since both narrative of film and written
language in diary, can be used to portray a phase in development of the character.
With Joyce and Greenaway, additional characters are language, architecture and
literature or film, id est their histories.
434
5. Postality
Both Stephen Dedalus and Stourley Kracklite develop their personal languages
in process that began with agnosis, helped by spectral words of precursors, and
continuing into entelechy, form of forms (Joyce 2008: 9:208). In A Portrait, this
course begins with progressive aspect and verbs in their dynamic use, suggesting
repetition of some events in the structure of syntax, rather than in represented events.
For this purpose, an alteration of returning/returned and repeating/repeated is
notable in the episode with O'Neill Temple and Cranly. In prolongation, Stephens
request for new terminology and new personal experience (Joyce 1958: 210) if
debating on phenomena of artistic reproduction, gains its answers in the scene in a
church and through serialised form of diary. Greenaways Stourley, on the other
hand, is seen while encountering Boulles unrealized planetarium and postcard
images of Rome which serve instead of Stephens diary. Through immediacy of film
medium the post card ontology is changed into complete arrival, of which Derrida
thought to be impossible due to postality in communication, disusing in length
questions of sending and non-arrival (Derrida 1987).
6
Texts written on postcards,
like film, function as spatio-temporal transposition of protagonists language and
consciousness. Finally, the architecture of Rome, apart from being an open work, an
open novel, becomes the branch of art in the age of its mechanical reproducibility. If
translated into another medium, such as film, its sublime aspect stays preserved
within Greenaways work, which also happens to Joyces writings.
References
Armand, L. (2003). Techn: James Joyce, Hypertext and Technology. Prague:
Karolinum.
Bartram, A. (2004). Bauhaus, Modernism and Illustrated Book. London: British
Library.
Boesiger, W. and Stonorov, O. (1943). Le Corbusier et Pierre Jeanneret, uvre
complte 1910-1929. Zurich: Girsbeger, Les ditions darchitecture.
Cullen, F. (2009). Museum with those Goddesses: Bloom and the Dublin Plaster
Casts. Dublin James Joyce Journal 2, 24-38.
Deleuze, G. (1989). Cinema II: The Time-Image, trans. H. Tomlinson and R. Galeta.
London: The Athlone Press.
Derrida, J. (1997). Of Grammatology, trans. Gayatri Spivak. Corrected 1976 edition.
Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press.
6
See also Alan Roughley, Postcards to Joyce, in Reading Derrida Reading Joyce (Gainesville:
University Press of Florida, 1999), or Alain Robbe-Grillet, Time and description in Fiction Today
(1963) in For the New Novel (New York: Groove Press, 1965) where Robbe-Grillet argues that the
cinemas only one grammatical mode is the present tense of indicative.
435
Farnsworth, R. (2001). Infernal Return: The Recurrence of the Primordial in Films
of the Reaction Years, 1977-1983. Westport: Greenwood Press.
Forgcs, . (1991). The Bauhaus Idea and Bauhaus Politics. Budapest: Central
European University Press.
Jameson, F. (1991). Postmodernism, or, The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism.
Durham: Duke University Press.
Jameson, F. (1998). The Cultural Turn: Selected Writings on the Postmodernism,
1983-1998. London: Verso.
Joyce, James. (1958). A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. New York: The
Viking Press.
Joyce, James. (1999). Finnegans Wake. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books.
Joyce, James. (1966). Stephen Hero: Part of the First Draft of "A Portrait of the
Artist as a Young Man". London: Four Square Books.
Joyce, James. (2008). Ulysses. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Klein, H. (May 2002). The far side of the mirror: Peter Greenaways Prosperos
Books. Available at:
http://webdoc.gwdg.de/edoc/ia/eese/artic96/klein/12_96.html. Retrieved on: 12
December 2010.
Loos, A. (1930). Stenograph of a conversation with K. Lhota , Plze. Available at:
http://www.mullerovavila.cz/english/raum-e.html. Retrieved on: 9 May 2011.
MacCabe, C. (1979). James Joyce and the Revolution of the Word. London and
Basingstoke: Macmillan Press.
Manovich, L. (2007). Database as Symbolic Form. In: V. Vesna (ed.). Database
Aesthetics: Art in the Age of Information Overflow. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press. 39-60.
Martin, S. (2000). Classic Shakespeare for All: Forbidden Planet and Prosperos
Books, Two Screen Adaptations of The Tempest. In: I. Whelehan, et. al.
Classics in Film and Fiction. London: Pluto Press. 34-53.
McGowan, J. (1991). Postmodernism and its Critics. New York: Cornell University
Press.
Merleau-Ponty, M. (1971). Sense and Nonsense, trans. Hubert L. Dreyfus and
Patricia A. Dreyfus. Evanston: Northwest University Press.
Pol, G. van der. (2005). Peter Greenaways A Zed and Two Noughts Meets Adriaan
Ditvoorsts The Witte Waan. In: M. de Valck and M. Hagener (eds.).
Cinephilia: Movies, Love and Memory. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University
Press. 211-222.
Rabat, J. M. (2002). James Joyce and the Politics of Egoism. Port Chester:
Cambridge University Press.
Williams, Keith. An Individuating Rhythm: Rapid Photography and A Portrait of the
Artist as a Young Man, XXII International James Joyce symposium, June 16
th
2010.
Wingler, H. M. (1993). The Bauhaus: Weimar, Dessau, Berlin, Chicago.
Cambridge: MIT Press.
436
iek, S. (2006). The Perverts Guide to Cinema. Dir. Sophie Fiennes.
Web sites:
Peter Greenaways Official site.
< http://www.petergreenawayevents.com/petergreenaway.html>. Retrieved on: 18
August 2010
437
Jelena Jovievi
Ni, Serbia
[email protected]
USE OF VIOLENCE ON STAGE IN THE PORTRAYAL OF MODERN
CULTURE IN SARAH KANES BLASTED
Abstract The paper will focus on British playwright Sarah Kanes play Blasted
through which she presented, by means of sexual and violent images, contemporary
issues about war, gender and the medias insensitive manipulation of the news, with
the purpose of making the audience abandon positions of casual observers and
awakening their moral sensibilities. With the aim of portraying political atmosphere
of the time, in the course of which the concept of justice got blurred by false
ideological pretences, Sarah Kane relied on the work of Edward Bond whose
defense of Marxist principles and literature from their postmodern trivialization will
provide a critical perspective to this paper. The purpose of the paper will be to draw
attention to the powerful and unique voice of Sarah Kane and other in-yer-face
playwrights who made theater art capable of revealing the truth not only about
society but also about notions of morality and ourselves.
Key words: postmodern culture, in-yer-face theatre, violence, oppressors, the
oppressed
1. Where do we live? What do we live by?
The twentieth century was definitely a time of betrayals, the way Yugoslav-
born critic and academic Darko Suvin put it in his 2002 essay Politics: What May
the Twentieth Century Amount to: Initial Theses. What the twentieth century
amounted to were socially constructed concepts of good and bad, disinterestedness
and indifference to natural human rights, lure of desirable commodities and the
global triumph of corporate capitalism which was frequently identified as the only
conceivable version of a utopian paradise. The one who suffered the consequences
of the aforementioned betrayal was contemporary man. All he was presented with
was the so-called fake utopia, reflected in a series of false and empty promises.
Suvin associated this kind of society with Disneyland, in which a careful and most
efficacious organization of desires displaces the possibility of an active intervention
into the real world (Moylan 2000: 136) and claimed that that same society drugged
Althusserian socially-produced subjects not only with crack, alcohol and other types
of industrially produced pills but also with disneyfication, i.e. mania for the
consumption of attainable goods. It is no wonder, then, that the same author was
utterly disappointed when casting a backward glance at the previous era.
438
In societies of this kind, which have continued to exist, everything and
everybody that is deemed different, that refuses to conform to ideological standards,
that demands justice and claims it to be a birthright belonging to all, that wishes to
re-create long-lost humanity and re-establish the world in terms of values other than
those stemming from capitalist economy, that starts asking questions about the true
purpose of life within the hedonistic empire, that starts to perceive ideological
contradictions and wishes to take action against the oppressive elements of reality is
considered as the Other, a savage who should be civilized in order to deserve a
place in the society. As Terry Eagleton put it in one of his articles (2008), the
ambition of advanced capitalism is not simply to combat radical ideas, or even to
discredit them. It is to abolish the very notion that there could be a serious
alternative to the present. Already civilized advanced capitalism feels nothing
more than contempt for the Other and regards him or her as a dangerous threat
capable of disturbing a well-established ideological equilibrium. For that reason, the
Other is, more often than not, left in ignorance of the truth (even the truth about
what his or her own life should be based on), pushed aside to the margins of the
social scale, or, even, exterminated. It is obvious, then, that the Third World War
against peoples we call third world people, or bomb them or blockade them into
becoming third world people, the war of world wide niggerization has begun.
(Tesich). What is particularly worrying is that it began at home a long time ago.
(Tesich). This niggerization, or, if simply put, violence against the Other, is
frequently legitimized by the proclaimed maintenance of law and order. It is not
even called violence. One of the examples that could support this fact is found in the
past. Namely, the invasion of South Vietnam in 1962, the attack against South
Vietnam, and the aggression in Indochina were not even recognized as such. Rather,
there was an American defense of South Vietnam against terrorists supported from
the outside (Roy 2004: 56).
2. In-yer-face reaction against violence
Some authors regarded this kind of society as post-Fordist (Ajdai 1999)
and claimed that it was characterized by soft technologies, automation, mega
corporations and their regulation of the world market, integration of the media and
computers and complete domination of advertising. Instead of lobbying for the
celebration of human rights, Francis Fukuyama (1992) praised this kind of world as
the haven of free living for which no alternative should be searched, it standing for
the end of history and a promise of eternal paradise. Nevertheless, these issues
were at the same time tackled by a considerable number of British artists who
dared to present the audience with alternative viewpoints and set out to make
things appear (Watt and Meyer-Dinkgrfe 2007: 2) through their theater art.
Theater critic Michael Billington identified these writers who had emerged during
the 1990s as having grown up in England in the 1980s, the era of Thatcherism,
consumerism and faith in profit as the ultimate test of anythings worth. In his view,
439
they rejected and protested against all that they were in a position to witness (Aragay
et.al. 2007). Their work was known under the name of in-yer-face theatre. Aleks
Sierz, creator of the term, defined it as the kind of theatre which grabs the audience
by the scruff of the neck and shakes it until it gets the message (Sierz). Its power
lay in the presentation of violent images by means of which the authors managed to
perform a hideous attack on the senses of the audience, thus bringing them face to
face with the harsh conditions of everyday life. Vivid re-presentation of the things
happening around them in their everyday lives and sudden close contact with the
events on stage stirred the process of cleansing the blurred images of reality and led
them towards a path of abandoning their positions as casual and indifferent
observers in harsh surroundings. It was American director and playwright Ken
Urban who summarized the effect of in-yer-face theatre. In his view, the plays
written by these artists examined the possibilities of cruelty with the purpose of
countering cynicism and challenging mainstream moralitys interpretation of the
world (Urban 2002: 354). In the process of commenting on the culture of the so-
called cool Britannia, Urban claimed that while coolness is associated with a
cynical state of disinterestedness, cruelty is a very different affect. Although it may
appear cold, cruelty carries with it the possibility of transformation (2002: 363).
If we return a few decades into the past, we will be able to see that in-yer-
face writers were not the first ones who started to react against the culture in such
an explicit manner. Nor were the nineties the first period in history in which such
works of art were regarded as problematic. In one of his interviews, Harold Pinter
reflected on his play Party Time, reprinted in his Plays: Four, which is worth
mentioning in this respect. Namely, in this play you have a lot of well-dressed
people enjoying a fashionable, champagne-filled party while outside there are
roadblocks and helicopters (Billington 2006), and although some of these people
seem to be responsible for the situation happening outside, they do not care.
Furthermore, there were the ones whom some theater critics placed into the group of
in-your-bollocks writers (Aragay et.al. 2007: 131). Namely, starting from the
1960s, it was Edward Bond who used his plays as well as collections of essays to
illuminate and resolve situations of cyclical social aggression and illustrate the
madly systematic (self-)destructive compulsions which a distorting society has
inscribed into the national unconscious (Rabey 2003: 79). In his defense of Marxist
principles, Bond examined unjust rules on the basis of which the culture forms its
sustainability. In his words, medieval alchemy sought to turn base metal into
precious metal, dross into gold. It failed because it did not observe natural law. Our
alchemy succeeds: it turns everything into gold, into money and capital. But it turns
all other values our freedom, democracy and justice into dross (2000: 8).
Unfortunately, past times showed that these rules had brought about Auschwitz and
Hiroshima. The present problem is that atrocities are likely to happen again under
whatever names and that the future will vanish the moment history ends.
His notorious play Saved, reprinted in Plays: One (1977), explores these
problems on stage. It examined the lives of a group of working class South London
youths, who felt suppressed by an unjust economic system and unable to give their
440
lives true meaning. The audience saw them perform acts of barbarous violence.
Saved was banned because of the feeling of shock the scenes of a baby being stoned
to death provoked in the audience and the critics. The same situation happened with
all other plays that included nudity, swear words, homosexuality or any other
repulsive details.
Nevertheless, if we go back to the last decade of the previous era, we will see
that Pinters and Bonds works of art, despite being regarded as repulsive, still
managed to inspire a generation of British playwrights, including Sarah Kane.
According to some critics, Kane, just like her contemporary, Mark Ravenhill, the
author of Shopping and F***king, whose play, together with its title, caused great
deal of offense, was manifestly influenced by Bond, and his materialist
demonstrations of how characters are often primarily defined by a systematic
degradation (Rabey 2003: 206). In Ravenhills words, since the sense of society
and the social collapsed in Britain in the mid-1980s and everybody was encouraged
to think of separate communities, everything became a community: the gay and
lesbian community, the wheelchair users community, even the crochet community,
or the needlework community. This replaced any sense of society. Creating a sense
of subcultures is just another evasion of the notion of a society and of the attempt to
try and create one, a communication, a sense of constructing our living with all sorts
of different people. Subcultures are valid for teenagers, but its not an adult form of
existence. Being a social being, being part of a society, is the only truly adult form
of existence (Aragay et.al. 2007: 92-93).
As for Sarah Kane, the British modern-day enfant terrible and the Courts
archetypal playwright for 1990s, as Billington would call her (Aragay et.al. 2007:
117), she used her plays to react against the society around her and its corresponding
institutions. Having this goal in mind, she sets one of her plays, Cleansed, reprinted
in her Complete Plays (2001), in an institution designed to rid society of its
undesirables (2001), in which sadistic Tinker performs a series of atrocities on a
young woman, her brother, a disturbed boy, a gay couple and a peepshow dancer.
Unfortunately, within the confines of postmodern society, this institution, which
stands for university, has lost its true function. Accusing universities of shifting from
being the accusers of corporate capitalism to being its accomplices, Terry Eagleton
makes a distinction between academics, who spend their lives researching such
momentous questions such as the vaginal system of the flea and true intellectuals
who have the more arduous job of bringing ideas to bear on society as a whole
(2008). Kane zealously supported the latter. As a true intellectual, she used her art to
present violent images on stage and make her audience experience sexual and
homosexual rape, torture, beating, sucking out of eyes and murder as if all these
atrocities were happening in their immediate neighborhoods. She forced them to live
through her characters experiences, which was quite attainable due to the fact that
her first play, Blasted, also reprinted in her Complete Plays (2001), was performed
only a few feet away from the audience themselves.
Kanes utilization of violent images with the purpose of confronting the false
cultural constructs, making people escape the dark recesses of apathy, and leading
441
them towards contemplation of a different way of life outraged the press and critics.
Her fellow-playwrights agreed that plays like these dont often come, and that,
due to that fact, the play unleashed a giddy paroxysm of rather idiotic fury from
British theater critics (Sarah Kane Special). They obviously did not expect a
woman to be able to make such bold statements in her works of art. One of the
journalists working for the Daily Mail at the time regarded the first performance of
Blasted in 1995 as a disgusting feast of filth (Sierz). Unfortunately, what troubled
the press and the critics most was not violence itself but the presentation of violence.
The play was deemed offensive and repulsive since it established a link between
domestic violence happening in Britain and the civil war in former Yugoslavia. The
truth about their disinterestedness and about the harsh reality was thrown in the face
of cool Britannia and it obviously could not stand it. As for Kane herself, she was
well aware of all the epithets in-yer-face writers, like her or Mark Ravenhill, were
given. They were called the New Brutalists, the School of Smack and Sodomy
or Blut and Sperma school (Ravenhill 2006). Therefore, she did expect the
negative reaction and commented on the way the society managed to mask its
injustices, by claiming that she wrote [Blasted] to tell the truth. Of course, thats
shocking. Take the glamour out of violence and it becomes utterly repulsive
(Sierz). All she wanted was to expose the truth. In Billingtons words, Kane was
arguing that if only we experienced some of the things that were happening at that
moment in Serbia, we would come to our senses (Aragay et.al. 2007: 112). She was
also far from regarding her plays as filthy, depressing or hopeless. In her own words,
to create something beautiful about despair, or out of a feeling of despair, is for me
the most hopeful, life-affirming thing a person can do (Sierz). Without providing
the readers with any kind of interpretations, she simply let her plays speak for
themselves and reach the moral sensibilities of the people watching them. Ironically
enough, the media helped her reach her goal. Much as they attacked her, they drew
attention towards her.
In Blasted, Kane mingled the scenes of Ians raping of Cate between her fits,
soldiers bursting into the room and holding Ian at gunpoint, Cates fleeing through
the bathroom window, massive explosion, soldiers raping of Ian and subsequent
sucking out of his eyes and eating them, soldiers suicide and eating of babys
corpse with normal and everyday life scenes of football matches played at Elland
Road. And she packed all that in a setting that could be anywhere in the world
(2001: 8) and that was familiar to anyone who had been in or had known anything
about expensive hotel rooms symbolizing societys craving for commodities. In this
way, she managed to provide the audience with a powerful critique of societys
primary interests and its indifference to real problems which include violence.
Among other things, Blasted implies that Britain is a society in which everyone that
is regarded as the Other should be degraded. It is Ian, the main male character in the
play, who proves this through his behavior towards vulnerable Cate, through his
obvious contempt for wogs, niggers, colored brethren, lesbos or Indians
(Kane 2001) and through his belief that all who would dare to sympathize with these
classes of people were retard (Kane 2001). Not only does Ian, a middle-aged
442
journalist, whom Kane considered to be the perfect representative of insensitive
patriarchal culture, torture Cate psychologically by considering her inferior and
directly showing it to her as in the case of his refusal to respect her decision not to
enter into sexual intercourse with him, but he also refuses to acknowledge her
physical suffering and rapes her between a series of her epileptic fits. The fact that
Kane placed the scenes of rape of Cate offstage can be particularly interesting if for
no other reason than to imply the idea that women as well are to be treated as the
Other and that violence performed over them is such a normal and expected thing
that it does not even deserve to be shown on stage.
It has already been mentioned that Kane strove to establish a link between
domestic violence and violence surrounding war atrocities. After psychological and
physical savagery has blasted Cate, civil war, reflected in the figure of a soldier,
blasts the entire hotel room, lives of the characters and, finally, the audiences
deeply-rooted beliefs. Kane was intent on identifying the soldier with Ian himself
and making them both into monsters bred by the same ideology but materialized
within different circumstances. The Soldier is a person who was trained to kill,
destroy and even forget his crimes and his deeds as well as the sufferings which he
had to endure. All these things are simply rendered as normal and even encouraged
as long as they are not brought home with him. Like it never happened (Kane
2001: 29). Ians monstrosity is reflected in his indifference to war atrocities that the
soldier attempts to describe to him. Not only does he express a lack of interest in the
series of rapes and murders of men, women and babies during the war and his
subsequent refusal to write about those things since no one would be interested in
reading about them, but he also reports the news about recent street crime as if it
were just another boring story, good enough to fill the pages of some weekly
magazine. According to Peter Buse, Blasted implies that modern Britain is a
society where potentially traumatizing events, such as rape and murder, are rendered
inconsequential by the constant diet of them provided by the press (2001: 186).
Ians cold and detached manner of presenting the story to the newspaper he works
for was used by the author of the play in order to point to the medias insensitive and
tamed portrayal of harsh stories and their intention to blur societys crimes by means
of these masked stories. In order to break through this wall of apathy, Kane
heightens the intensity of the play and makes the soldier perform a new series of
atrocities which neither the audience nor the critics could expect. Namely, the
moment the soldier realizes that Ian is too bloodless to be able to react or feel
something when listening to his war experiences, he pulls down Ians trousers,
undoes his own and rapes him (Kane 2001: 29), and, symbolically, breaks through
defense mechanisms that the so-called civilized culture has erected against caring
about what is happening in its immediate neighborhood or around the globe as well
as through socially constructed notions of gender. However, although Kane probably
knew that she was going to shock the audience the moment acts of violence started
happening to one of the representatives of the ever-present and pervasive culture,
she decided to go a step further and show that their (and Ians) insensitivity had no
limits. Namely, Ian is still silent even in the moments of pain caused by violent acts
443
of homosexual rape. And he still fails to see beyond his own needs and worries only
about whether he is going to be killed or not. In order to make him go beyond his
ideologically created blindness and indifference, Kane makes the soldier take away
Ians physical ability to see. What is more, he puts his mouth over one of Ians
eyes, sucks it out, bites it off and eats it. He does the same to the other eye (Kane
2001: 30). Ian has finally been left helpless and dependent on others.
According to Peter Buse, all three characters in Blasted seem to have
undergone some form of potentially traumatizing experience (2001: 176). He
claims that the soldiers violence is a consequence of his own trauma experienced
during the war and that he feels a constant urge to re-enact any kind of violence, be
it homosexual rape, murder or torture, only because society is unwilling to
acknowledge his suffering. As a product of his own environment, he performs his
deeds ruthlessly, thereby meeting cultural standards on the basis of which soldiers
duties are to turn into monsters in the course of whatever war is taking place. In the
case of Ian, there also appear to be some things he has done, which haunt him and
scare him. The actions that stem from the Soldiers and Ians own terrifying
experiences are further explained by Paulo Freire. In his words, the oppressed, at a
certain moment of their existential experience, adopt an attitude of adhesion to the
oppressor This does not necessarily mean that the oppressed are unaware that they
are downtrodden. But their perception of themselves is impaired by their submersion
in the reality of oppression. Because of this, the oppressed, instead of striving for
liberation, tend themselves to become oppressors, or sub-oppressors (1996: 27).
As for Cate, although she has been abused both physically and psychologically, she
still manages to resist the repetition of a series of torments and attempts to halt the
process of her belittlement and defamation. Kane gives her the opportunity and
power to express her outrage over being treated as inferior within patriarchal society.
The moment she refuses to play her previous role and give in to Ians sexual
aspirations, the power shift occurs. She points a gun at him and even performs some
violent sexual acts in order to strike back at her oppressor. Namely, she goes for
him, slapping him around the head hard and fast (Kane 2001: 19). She bites his
penis as hard as she can. Ians cry of pleasure turns into a scream of pain. He tries to
pull away but Cate holds on with her teeth (2001: 21). However, in spite of these
events and obvious atrocities performed on her part, Cate cannot be seen as Freires
sub-oppressor. What she does after the first-mentioned act is worry about Ians
health. After the sexual assault, she cleans her teeth. She obviously did not enjoy her
monstrous acts. She only defended herself and expressed strength to strike back and
free herself from the confines of patriarchal culture. What is more, she follows and
regains Freires concept of humanity within a dehumanized world. In his words, in
order for the struggle for liberation to have meaning, the oppressed must not, in
seeking to regain their humanity, become in turn oppressors of the oppressors, but
rather restorers of the humanity of both. This, then, is the great humanistic and
historical task of the oppressed: to liberate themselves and their oppressors as well
(1996: 26). Cate took her role quite seriously. Namely, in the course of the play Cate
escapes through the bathroom window and manages to save herself from further
444
torments. In her absence, the hotel room is hit by a mortar bomb. She returns soaked
but cleansed by rain, holding a dying baby, only to find Ian broken and blinded. In
spite of the fact that Ian caused her a great deal of offence, to say the least, Cate still
refuses to let him give up on life, claiming that giving up is for the weak. She offers
him psychological support and brings in the baby and some food, symbols of the
continuation of life. Although the baby dies, this moment still signals some
flickering hope. Namely, Cate prays for it, thus showing another sign of her inherent
humanity devotion to religion.
Aleks Sierz says that in what was probably the last interview she gave, [Sarah
Kane] talked about her work and corrected an article [he] was writing about her,
pointing out that the final scene of Blasted takes place in a metaphorical hell.
Dont forget the stage direction that says He dies with relief, she said. Ian dies,
so you think thats the worst thing that can happen then it rains on him. Its a
moment that sums her bleak sense of humor (Sierz). It should also be taken into
consideration that for Sarah Kane, hell is exactly the same place [as earth], only its
raining (Sierz). Ian dies with relief but his ensuing shit (Kane 2001: 34) at the
onset of the rain shows that he fails to realize that the start of rain helps in his
resurrection. Ian has to reach the borders of a metaphorical hell in order to be able to
see again. Similar to the situation in Bonds Lear, where the main character
spends his superficial life dwelling in the darkness of ignorance and commodities
before he gets blinded and faces the truth about the true purpose of life, it is only
when Ian is literally blinded, that he becomes provided with true insight. And it is
only when the rain starts and Cate brings in the food that new life becomes possible.
What is more, the last line in the play is Ians thank you (Kane 2001: 35), which
is, in Billingtons view, simply an acknowledgement of the other person, Cate, as a
person, as a human being. Its as if communication has at last been established on a
humane level. So the play, far from seeming a squalid spectacle of horror, seemed to
[be] a humanist statement about the possibilities that lie ahead of us (Aragay et.al.
2007: 119). Therefore, although the soldier, who started the process of subversion of
socially constructed matrix, did not survive, there are other survivors. Despite their
wicked actions, Kane manages to provide them with seeds of humanity.
3. Beyond Humanity
On the basis of everything that has been mentioned so far, Tom Moylan seems
to be right when he insists that cultures myths acknowledge only those images
and narratives that stand by its dominant viewpoints. Within that process, all other
ways of being in the world end up in the void of silence and elimination (2000).
Rejecting all false notions created by culture and refusing to believe that theres
such a thing as a woman playwright (Transcript 21), Sarah Kane proved to be the
one who could never force herself to conform to traditional rules of pervasive
ideologies. She did not even try. She managed to establish a link between events that
the culture around her regarded as incompatible although those events were bred at
445
home. By making a strong connection between domestic violence and war
atrocities through vivid presentation of images on stage only a few feet away from
the audience, Kane succeeded in moving the millimeter from the terrain of
betrayals and smashing the mirror (Pinter 2005) of fake utopia so that the truth
about peoples ignorance would start to dawn on them. That is precisely what
Harold Pinter insisted on throughout his works of art. He used his Nobel Prize
lecture to express his opinion about the truth in drama, which is, in his words,
forever elusive. You never quite find it but the search for it is compulsive. The
search is clearly what drives the endeavor. The search is your task (2005). What
Kane left behind for her supporters, and others who are not, is the task to follow the
matrix.
If put ironically, history proved that it did take a lot of violence to keep a
capitalist peace (Bond 1977). It can be said that it also did take a lot of ignorance of
that violence to keep that same peace. Unfortunately, not much has changed so far in
this respect. In 2010, A Serbian Film, the dark thriller that features disturbing scenes
of violence and sex, had four minutes and eleven seconds of its original content
removed before it could be released in British cinemas. What is more, the British
Board of Film Classification provided it with the label of the most cut movie in
sixteen years (Bailey 2010). Fortunately, theater has always been there, the way
Bond put it, to deal with its only subject justice. Sarah Kane stood for the voice of
the theater during the nineties. Although she committed suicide at the age of 28,
Michael Billington claimed that she was the one who has survived, partly because
of the cryptic nature of her career; the one around whom myths are starting to
assemble; the one whose plays get performed everywhere; the one who is always
talked about at conferences (2007: 118). The purpose of her works, as well as of
theater art throughout the centuries, has been to raise our consciousness and remind
us that being human involves asking why questions (Petrovi 2004: 315) to which
answers could be obtainable from the never-ending utopian dreams.
References
Ajdai, D. (ur.). (1999). Antiutopije u slovenskim knjievnostima. Beograd: Nauno
drutvo za slovenske umetnosti i kulture.
Aragay, M., et.al. (2007). British Theatre of the 1990s. New York: Palgrave
Macmillan.
Bailey, F. (2010). A Serbian Film Is Most Cut Movie in 16 Years. Available at:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-11846906. Retrieved on: 16
March 2011.
Billington, M. (2006). Ive Written 29 Damn Plays. Isnt That Enough?. Available
at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2006/mar/14/theatre.stage. Retrieved on:
13 March 2011.
Bond, E. (2000). Hidden Plot: Notes on Theatre and the State. London: Methuen.
446
Bond, E. (1977). Plays: One. London: Methuen.
Bond, E. (2000). Plays: Two. London: Methuen.
Buse, P. (2001). Drama + Theory. Manchester and New York: Manchester
University Press.
Eagleton, T. (2008). Death of the Intellectual. Available at:
http://www.redpepper.org.uk/Death-of-the-intellectual/. Retrieved on: 15
March 2011.
Freire, P. (1996). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. London: Penguin Books.
Fukuyama, F. (1992). The End of History and the Last Man. New York: Macmillan.
Kane, S. (2001). Complete Plays. London: Methuen.
Moylan, T. (2000). Scraps of the Untainted Sky. Boulder: Westview Press.
Petrovi, L. (2004). Literature, Culture, Identity: Introducing XX Century Literary
Theory. Ni: Prosveta.
Pinter, H. (1998). Plays: Four. London: Faber.
Pinter, H. (2005). Nobel lecture: Art, Truth & Politics. Available at:
http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/2005/pinter-lecture.html.
Retrieved on 10 March 2011.
Rabey, D. I. (2003). English Drama Since 1940. London: Longman.
Ravenhill, M. (2006). The Beauty of Brutality. Available at:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2006/oct/28/theatre.stage. Retrieved on: 10
March 2011.
Roy, A. (2004). The Ordinary Persons Guide to Empire. London: Harper Perennial.
Sarah Kane Special. (2010). Available at:
http://www.theatrevoice.com/listen_now/player/?audioID=923. Retrieved on:
12 March 2011.
Sierz, A. http://www.inyerface-theatre.com/. Retrieved on: 9 March 2011.
Suvin, D. (2002). Politics: What May the Twentieth Century Amount to: Initial
Theses. Critical Quarterly 2: 84-104.
Tesich, S. (1997). Niggerization: Everything, Not Just Charity, Begins at Home.
Available at: http://www.srpska-mreza.com/authors/Tesich/atHome.htm.
Retrieved on: 15 March 2011.
Transcript 21: Sarah Kane. (2009). Available at:
http://www.theatrevoice.com/tran_script/detail/?roundUpID=37. Retrieved on
11 March 2011.
Urban, K. (2004). Towards a Theory of Cruel Britannia: Coolness, Cruelty and the
Nineties. Available at: http://www.kenurban.org/pdf/NTQ_CB.pdf. Retrieved
on: 11 March 2011.
Watt, D. and Meyer-Dinkgrfe, D. (2007). Theatres of Thought: Theatre,
Performance and Philosophy. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing.
447
Nataa Karanfilovi
Novi Sad, Serbia
e-mail: [email protected]
GHOSTS AND GHASTLY CREATURES OF THE DOWN-UNDERWORLD
THE AUSTRALIAN GHOST STORY
1
Abstract Based on a selection of ghost stories published in Australia over an
extended period of time, from colonial to contemporary fiction, this paper aims to
define the Australian variety of the genre. It traces the deep anxieties of a
transplanted culture as reflected in a duly transported genre, whose major driving
force is the (irrational) fear of the unknown and the unexplored. In the beginning,
the genre itself is haunted by its European predecessor until it takes root on
Australian soil and becomes enriched by the pre-European tradition of Aboriginal
lore. As the developing society (nation) gains confidence, its ghost stories become
tinged with irony and humour, and ghosts start prowling not only the bush but town
alleys as well.
Key words: Australian ghost story, gothic, cultural anxiety, identity, uncanny.
1. Introduction
The genre of ghost story in Australia might not have been given much
scholarly attention, as Ken Gelder (ix) notes in his Introduction to The Oxford
Book of Australian Ghost Stories (1994) but, as the stories he compiles for the
anthology illustrate, the genre has been popular with Australian authors from the
very beginning. Tracing the development of the genre through time, this paper
explores the specifically Australian variety of the ghost story within the wider
context of the Gothic. Firstly, the tension between the present and past is identified
as one of the prominent features of the Gothic and the notion of the haunting past is
defined in the Australian variety as the crippling feeling of the cultural cringe and
the shame of the convict stain. Furthermore, the shadow of past crimes spreads
stealthily over the new country and points to social evils in general, and greed in
particular, as gold was discovered in Australia which triggered an economic boom.
In addition, the paper investigates the allegorical problematisation of the terra
nullius doctrine and the issue of Aboriginal dispossession as yet another aspect of
1
The paper is the result of research conducted within project no. 178019 Translation in the
system of comparative study of Serbian and foreign literatures and cultures funded by the Ministry of
Science and Technological Development of the Republic of Serbia.
448
the guilty past utilised in the Australia ghost story. Next, Freuds notion of the
uncanny is explicated; attention is drawn to internal fears and the home as the source
of danger in the specific setting of the Australian ghost story. Finally, the Gothic
potential of the unique Australian landscape and the influence it had on European
settlers is illustrated through several descriptive passages which show that it was
perhaps the strangeness of the landscape that initially triggered the Gothic
imagination of the first writers in Australia.
2. The haunting past: the cultural cringe and the convict stain
The ghost story, as a special category of the Gothic, hinges on the relation of
the present and past. While Gothic literature appeared and thrived in Europe as the
site of struggle between enlightened forces of progress and more conservative
impulses to retain continuity (Botting 1996: 15), in the case of Australia, cultural
anxiety is not spawned by any threat posed by change or revolution but rather by the
unsettling notion of not having a past or, even worse, having a convict past. The
sense of the cultural cringe has been haunting Australia from the very beginning and
it refers to the inferiority complex which arises from the conviction that Australia
lacks a long-standing cultural tradition and that the one it has is inauthentic and
derivative, always wanting in comparison with the British or European models. The
feeling that Australia is not old enough to have proper ghosts and, by extension
proper ghost stories, surfaces in several examples of the genre. In the context where
the ghost of Hamlets father, who was not at all particular about the number of
people he entertained collectively (Couvreur 1994: 86), and the mirth of the
goblins in the Catskill mountains (Couvreur 1994: 87) are deployed to evoke the
great Bard of centuries-old British tradition and the father of American literature, an
Australian ghost does not seem to display such self-confidence: Perhaps the sense
that in a country like Australia, as young in all that constitutes age in countries, as a
fine baby in leading-strings, the genus ghost had hardly had time to develop itself,
may have had something to do with the retiring disposition of the Rubria ghost
(Couvreur 1994: 86). Both The Rubria Ghost (1878) and The Ghost of
Wanganilla: Founded on Fact (1891) were written at a time of political and literary
fermentation in Australia, still an English colony, and they reveal contemporary
perceptions and attitudes, British and Australian, about Australia and its emerging
literature. While entertaining his English schoolmate in Melbourne, Harry is quite
right to assume that his friend has [n]ever heard of an Australian ghost story as
Straubenzie must confess [he does] not expect one of the correct type because
marvellous Melbourne is altogether too new for that style of thing (Chads 1994:
94). Rosa Praed also finds the new country lacking in ghastly creatures in
comparison to Europe and resorts to the Aboriginal lore: The old world has her
tales of ghoul and vampire, of Lorelei, spook, and pixie, but Australia has nothing
but her Bunyip (Praed 1994: 102).
449
Another source of Australian cultural insecurity is the so-called convict stain or
the unnatural birth of the nation which remained haunted by a faltering sense of
identity. According to Andrew Smith (2007: 10), in discussions of colonialism and
postcolonialism [h]ow nationality [] is represented in the Gothic helps us to
explain why there are periodic anxieties about the meaning of national identity. The
concept of a transported culture originated with the transportation of criminals from
the old country to the penal colony. The issue of transportation is tackled in the
Australian ghost story, where the ghost represents that which haunts a culture its
self-formulation, its fears and concerns about its various social and economic issues.
The Australian ghost story makes use of the common Victorian perception of
Australia as either a dumping ground for criminals or an escape route for the
dishonoured. In either case, the faraway colony was the underworld from whose
bourn no traveller was allowed or expected to return. Reverberations of Magwitchs
fate in Great Expectations are found in the character of John Fisher (The Ghost
Upon the Rail, 1859), an emancipated convict who has prospered in the new
country but sadly reaches the conclusion that none of his relatives would be happy to
see him if he decided to visit them in England.
When I got into trouble it was the breaking of the heart of my old father and
mother; and none of my brothers and sisters in all, seven of em have ever
answered one of my letters. [...] I have often thought that if I was to go back
they would be sorry to see me, even if I carried with me 100 000, earned by
one who had been a convict. (Lang 1994: 1)
Transportation is also used as a point of departure in Hume Nisbets The
Haunted Station (1894), whose treatment of convictism relies on the tradition of the
Australian convict novel with an innocently convicted character, transported for life,
who lives through perils and sickness of a sea journey and then, having survived the
horrors of the penal system, manages to escape.
2
Facing the ghosts of his past is the
crucial experience which opens the possibility of the re-invention of the self. Put
metaphorically, the dead of the old world are resurrected in the colony. That a
colony is a land of ghosts is the impression of the narrator of Marcus Clarkes
Human Repetends (1872). Having been socially ruined, or killed, through the
loss of inheritance and having been shunned by all his fair-weather friends, the
narrator decides to vanish to Australia (Clarke 1994a: 66). Once there, he found
that [he] was among old friends whom [he] had long thought dead or in jail. To walk
down Collins-street was like pulling up the Styx. On either side [he] saw men who
had vanished from the Upper World sooner than [he] (Clarke 1994a: 66).
The Under World seems to be a replica of the Upper World albeit on a
smaller and poorer scale, which asserts the superiority of the old country and its
2
The best known examples of the Australian convict novel are His Natural Life (1870-71) by
Marcus Clarke and Robbery Under Arms (1882-83) by Rolf Bolderwood.
450
culture and reinforces the notion of the cultural cringe: The game was made in the
same fashion, only the stakes were not so high. The porcelain was of the same
pattern, only a little cracked (Clarke 1994a: 67). In addition, Clarkes story draws
on the ambivalent nature of the Australian experience, the double aspect of
Australia, which was both a land of exile and a land of possibilities. The prospect of
a fresh start, hopefully a better one, is undercut in this story by means of the
doubling effect, which is a device frequently found in Gothic fiction (see Botting
1996: 60, 79; Smith 2007: 14; Briggs 2001: 124). The story and the characters
behind a fifteenth-century portrait appear to be re-enacting their story in eighteenth-
century Melbourne. The murderous pattern of the old world unfolds again in the new
world. As the old-world romance is re-played in the new world and as murder takes
place in the labyrinth of the streets of the new world, a feeling of disillusionment
sets in. The place may change but human nature remains the same, and the young
society appears to have inherited the evils of the old society. However, the story has
an open ending and the reader (together with the narrator) is not sure whether the
narrator will assume his role in the sequence of returns and repetitions in the story.
3. Social evil
In addition to monstrous origins, the ghostly return testifies to guilty secrets of
past crimes, committed both individually and collectively. In The Ghost upon the
Rail and Mary Fortunes The Ghostly White Gate (1885) the chain of events is set
in motion by ghosts of murdered people who seek revenge and justice.
3
The
inspiration of Gothic fiction taken from Elizabethan and Jacobean revenge tragedies
goes a step further in Fortunes story as the characters stage a mousetrap in order
to ascertain the guilt of the murderer. Both stories are predicated on social evils
arising from the materialism of the developing society focused on the rapid
acquisition of property and wealth. Closely connected to the genres of crime fiction
and detective story, they tell of murders prompted by greed and the love of gold.
Among the most famous examples of English ghost stories which emphasise the
issue of money and foreground concerns about class and wealth is Dickenss novella
A Christmas Carol (1843). The ghosts in such stories articulate anxieties in
economic spaces propelled by social progress which, in the case of Australia, was
supported by the discovery of gold and the expansion of the frontier.
3
John Lang based his story on strange events following the sudden and mysterious
disappearance of the ex-convict and farmer Frederick Fisher on 16 June 1826. His ghost was said to be
seen sitting upon the rail and pointing to the spot where his body was buried. His friend and neighbour
George Worrall, also a ticket-of-leave man, was arrested and hanged for Fishers murder in February
1827 (Gelder 1994: x).
451
4. Preoccupation
Taking possession of the land by the rapidly developing white society,
however, was only possible through the dispossession of indigenous communities.
Racial anxieties and what Ken Gelder (2007: 119) terms preoccupation are explored
in several ghost stories which can be interpreted as a symbolic re-enactment of
colonisation. The seemingly empty house found in The Haunted Station and An
Australian Rip Van Winkle (1921) is indicative of the terra nullius doctrine (Gelder
1994: xii) which was used by the white settlers/invaders to justify their claim to the
land. However, the narrator in The Haunted Station discovers that the house has
been the scene of a terrible crime the slaughter of a prosperous squatters family.
4
The exploration of an empty house in An Australian Rip Van Winkle also
addresses the Australian postcolonial condition and allegorically problematises the
issue of discovery. While the protagonist believes that he is treading [...] into the
unknown on roads that lead nowhere (Hay 1994: 166) he is actually trespassing
into a world that does not belong to him, as the house betrays signs of occupancy
and an unseen presence. Guy Boothbys With Three Phantoms (1897), which tells
about an unsuccessful expedition into the bush and a sole surviving explorer saved
by three ghosts, also illustrates the point that a white explorer in the Australian
outback is never the first human presence there.
Ghost stories such as Ernest Favencs The Red Lagoon (1899), William
Sylvester Walkers The Evil of Yelcomoron Creek (1899) and Rosa Praed, The
Bunyip (1891) explicitly introduce the Aboriginal context and summon the ghosts
of buried atrocities. Australian authors use the Gothic mode to explore Australian
varieties of greed, usurpation, intolerance and cruelty as well as the insidious perils
and racial vengeance that marked the settlement of the land. Avoided by both blacks
and whites, the haunted Red Lagoon in Favencs story is actually revealed to be a
massacre site, where an entire Aboriginal tribe was slaughtered and where a white
man was killed by the Aborigines. The stereotypical haunted place of a ghost story,
when placed within the Australian social and historical context might conceal the
grave facts of colonisation. As Brian Jamess The Bunyip of Barneys Elbow
(1956) might imply with the strange Noise which haunts the township, prosperous
white Australia remains unsettled because of those violently silenced voices of its
pre-occupants. In The Evil of Yelcomoron Creek, white mans excitement at the
exploration of the new country and his inquisitive spirit, portrayed in line with many
contemporary colonial stories of eager young explorers, are rebuffed by the
encounter with the evidence of an earlier occupation of the land. The sacredness of
4
It should be noted that Nisbets story uses motifs and structural elements found in Poes The
Fall of the House of Usher such as the unnamed narrator, who does not belong to the house, the
description of the dilapidated house and the fissure, as well as night vapours rising from the pool in
front of the house. The house in Nisbets story also collapses on a stormy night and disappears in the
ground as the terrified narrator escapes in horror.
452
an aboriginal burial site is invaded by an opal fossicker. At first he thinks he has
stumbled upon an Eden-like valley until the disturbed spirits start rising with their
weapons to remind him that they are not willing to surrender every place for the
whites to exploit. Praeds story incorporates the Aboriginal mythical creature, the
embodiment of fear, into the white experience of Australia. The story of the white
child lost in the bush works both at the literal and metaphorical levels with the
bunyip representing the unknown territory laden with danger and luring at the same
time. For both the indigenous population and the white settlers/invaders the bunyip
is the name they have given to their fear of the environment and the fear of the other
race.
5. The uncanny
The literature on the Gothic and its related subgenres unanimously finds fear,
anxiety and threats to be the principle drives behind these texts (Botting, Smith,
Punter, Spooner and McEvoy). In eighteenth century narratives, ghosts are the
embodiments and evocations of perceived threats to the established values and they
are also expressions of social anxieties. In other words, spectres, demons, monsters
and skeletons are representations of real or imagined, but chiefly external threats.
From the nineteenth century on, however, the Gothic is mainly concerned with
internal fears, the workings of the human psyche and the disturbingly repressed self.
In short, ghosts expressed fears which were closer to home. One of the staple
theoretical texts which has influenced the interpretations of gothic texts is Sigmund
Freuds The Uncanny (1919). Freud juxtaposes the notions of heimlich (familiar,
native, belonging to the home, homely) and unheimlich (un-homely, uncanny) only
to conclude that unhemlich is in some way or other a sub-species of heimlich
(Freud 1919: 4). What he suggests in the essay is that the familiarity of the home
does not necessarily imply safety or innocence. Quite the opposite, it can harbour
frightening family secrets (which Freud relates to sexual anxieties), a repressed
family past and the fear of their revelation. As fear literally preys on its victims, the
protagonists of Gothic fiction find themselves trapped in the house which becomes a
dangerous and sinister place.
Gothic texts have commonly focused on a building. The conventional setting of
the eighteen-century Gothic is a mansion or a castle, with the most notable examples
of The Castle of Otranto (1764) by Horace Walpole or The Mysteries of Udolpho
(1794) by Ann Radcliffe, while after the nineteenth century danger and evil are
found lurking in the corners of a family house, as portrayed in Hawthornes The
House of the Seven Gables (1851) or Poes The Fall of the House of Usher (1839).
Mary Fortunes The Ghostly White Gate has a Madeline-like female character, a
ghostly figure, who warns and ultimately saves the narrator from the evil residing in
the house her fathers murderer, who keeps her sedated and virtually incarcerated
in the house. Both The Haunted Station and At Coomassie Gully (1904) feature
houses haunted by their former residents, killed by evil bred within the house. Terry
453
Dowlings The Daemon Street Ghost-Trap has a conventional setting of an old
mansion-like family house occupied by a very old man. Like Roderick Usher, he is
being consumed by a strange disease originating from the unnamed family evil and,
like the picture of Dorian Gray, he absorbs the evil and contains it within his frame
so that other members of the family can lead their lives away from home. In
addition, the red room or the ghost-trap of the title is probably a reference to H. G.
Wellss story of the same title (Wells The Red Room) and as such expresses the
point which is adopted sometimes in ghost stories with a comic twist that ghosts,
disease and death are drawn to man by his thinking of them, that the ghosts feed on
fear and when deprived of food they lose all their power.
6. The comic twist
The growing confidence of Australia after the Second World War is reflected
in a more confident and playful approach to the conventions of the ghost story. Mary
Gordons The Ghost That Came to Darwin (1944) follows a disappointed and
disconsolate ghost who is so tired of being ignored and of waiting for his
presence to be felt that he is thinking of go[ing] back to England where [he is]
appreciated (Gordon 1994: 201). The ghosts tricks are successful only insofar as
they build upon the soldiers fear and nerve-wrecking expectation of a Japanese
attack. Dal Stivenss Ironbark Bill Meets the Bunyip (1953) shows a bunyip
outwitted by a swagman who not only fails to show any fear, to the monsters
surprise and dismay, but proves impervious to the temptations of gold as well.
Another of Stivenss ventures into the genre, The Hardworking Ghost (1953) uses
a ghost to comment on mans character. As a supernatural creature, the ghost can
make anything possible and get anything done, but man, his employer, is never
satisfied. Exploiting the comic potential of the genre, Stivens mocks mans
disposition to nag and his tendency to adopt negative attitudes if one thinks that
there is a catch, there will be one in the end. Whatever happens to man is the
outcome of his own thoughts. The ghost in this story is not a shadow of guilt or an
expression of looming threats but it helps illustrate aspects of human nature.
It has to be pointed out, however, that ghosts received a somewhat irreverent
treatment even in the nineteenth century. Chadss The Ghost of Wanganilla:
Founded on Fact is essentially a humorous story in which the stereotypical
apparition of a woman, with her arms held aloft in anger, or despair, dressed in a
long, white robe, turns out to be a tree. In practical Australia (Chads 1994: 95)
there is a practical explanation for ghosts and the English guest who has never heard
an Australian ghost story is actually given the opportunity to touch the ghost (Chads
1994: 101). The young man might not have met the spectral woman that night but
the incident brought him close to his future wife and resulted in a happy marriage.
He has carved a present for her from the piece of wood from the tree whose
branches (the ghosts hands) hit him on the hand on that stormy night. In this story,
even nature in Australia seems to be prone to practical jokes. On the other hand,
454
from the earliest days of European settlement, the Australian landscape, in stark
contrast with the English landscape, has been the source of awe and wonder as well
as fear and despair.
7. The Gothic aspect of the Australian bush
The most famous description of the bush is perhaps given in 1876 by the
Melbourne writer and journalist Marcus Clarke, who drew on Gothic tropes to frame
the experience and response to the Australian interior.
What is the dominant note of Australian scenery? That which is the
dominant note of Edgar Allan Poes poetry Weird Melancholy. [] The
Australian mountain forests are funereal, secret, stern. Their solitude is
desolation. They seem to stifle in their black gorges a story of sullen despair.
No tender sentiment is nourished in their shade. In other lands the dying year is
mourned, the falling leaves drop lightly on his bier. In the Australian forests no
leaves fall. The savage winds shout among the rock clefts. From the
melancholy gums strips of white bark hang and rustle. The very animal life of
these frowning hills is either grotesque or ghostly. Great gray kangaroos hop
noiselessly over the coarse grass. Flights of white cockatoos stream out
shrieking like evil souls. The sun suddenly sinks, and the mopokes burst out
into horrible peals of semi-human laughter. The natives aver that when night
comes, from out the bottomless depths of some lagoon the Bunyip rises, and in
form like a monstrous sea-calf, drags his loathsome length from out the ooze.
From a corner of the silent forest rises a dismal chant, and around a fire dance
natives painted like skeletons. All is fear-inspiring and gloomy. No bright
fancies are linked with the memories of the mountains. Hopeless explorers
have named them out of their sufferings Mount Misery, Mount Dreadful,
Mount Despair. (Clarke 2003: 207)
The bush has excited the Gothic imagination of Australian writers ever since.
Rosa Praed has spectral white gums rising like an army of ghosts around you
(Praed 1994: 102) and reading Marcus Clarkes Preface to Gordons Poems (1876)
seems to be a dj-vu of his Holiday Peak (1873) where:
There is an indescribable ghastliness about the mountain bush at night which
has affected most imaginative people. The grotesque and distorted trees,
huddled here and there together in the gloom like whispering conspirators. ...
The white, bare, and ghostly gums gleaming momentarily amid the deeper
shades of the forest. The lonely pools begirt with shivering reeds, and haunted
by the melancholy bittern only. ... The silent and solitary places where a few
blasted trees crouch together like withered witches, who, brooding on some
deed of blood, have suddenly been stricken horror-stiff. Riding through this
455
nightmare-landscape a whirr of wings and a harsh cry disturb you from time to
time, hideous and mocking laughter peals above and about you, and huge grey
ghosts with little red eyes hop away in gigantic but noiseless bounds. ... You
become drunk with the wine of the night, and, losing your individuality, sweep
on ward a flying phantom in a land of shadows. ... and from time to time the
level surface of the forest was broken by the spectre-like upstarting of some
huge gum-skeleton grasping at air with his crooked and ravenous claws.
(Clarke 1994b: 72)
The entire scene of the night-ride through the forest has the ominous
atmosphere of a nightmare not unlike the one found in Hawthornes Young
Goodman Brown. Clarkes narrator also meets familiar people in unfamiliar
circumstances amidst the forest but in the Australian version they are not performing
any strange and barbaric rites, that is reserved for the racial other Aborigines. The
people he finds lead happy lives in a might-ha-been place (Clarke 1994b: 76). The
implication is surely that even a young society like the Australian one of the
nineteenth century was dreaming escapist dreams of a fresh start in a better place. In
Guy Boothbys story what the explorer finds in the interior is not an inland sea, as
was hoped by early explorers, but the most hopeless stretch of awful desert on the
face of this godless continent and he returns from that Inferno to tell his story in
the voice of one returned from the dead (Boothby 1994: 132). The runaway
convict of Nisbets story also describes the landscape by means of gothic imagery.
I felt the weird influence of that curse even as I crawled into the gully that led
to it, a shiver ran over me as one feels when they say some stranger is passing
over your future grave. A chill gripped at my vitals as I glanced about me
apprehensively, expectant of something ghoulish and unnatural to come upon
me from the sepulchral gloom and mystery of the overhanging boulders under
which I was dragging my wearied limbs. A deathly silence brooded with this
rut-like and treeless gully [...] (Nisbet 1994: 110)
Yet the experience of the Australian landscape remains ambivalent and
Clarkes Preface is again one of the earliest articulations of the double aspect of
the Australian experience, of both its repulsion and attraction. Having evoked the
eerie atmosphere to describe the landscape which hardly seems to be fit for human
inhabitation, Clarke concludes his reflexions arguing that nature is an enemy only to
those who approach it with prejudices and a biased fear of the unknown. On the
other hand, to those who make an effort to listen to it, nature can whisper the most
precious and beautiful secrets, as European landscapes have been whispering to their
poets for ages. In other words, Clarke suggests that it might be time for the
Australians to stop looking at their nature with the eyes of foreigners and find beauty
in its uniqueness instead.
456
In Australia alone is to be found the Grotesque, the Weird, the strange
scribblings of nature learning how to write. Some see no beauty in our trees
without shade, our flowers without perfume, our birds who cannot fly, and our
beasts who have not yet learned to walk on all fours. But the dweller in the
wilderness acknowledges the subtle charm of this fantastic land of
monstrosities. He becomes familiar with the beauty of loneliness. Whispered to
by the myriad tongues of the wilderness, he learns the language of the barren
and the uncouth, and can read the hieroglyphs of haggard gum-trees, blown
into odd shapes, distorted with fierce hot winds, or cramped with cold nights,
when the Southern Cross freezes in a cloudless sky of icy blue. The
phantasmagoria of that wild dreamland termed the Bush interprets itself, and
the Poet of our desolation begins to comprehend why free Esau loved his
heritage of desert sand better than all the bountiful richness of Egypt. (Clarke
2003: 208)
One of Walkers characters makes much the same point: and theres lots of
strange sounds of birds and beasts all around you. One takes to it wonderfully after a
bit. I dont think Id swap it for the English twilight, after all (Walker 1994: 142).
While for Lionel, an Englishman, in Chadss story the Australian landscape differs
so entirely from the lovely English landscape which he thought could not be
equalled anywhere (Chads 1994: 95), his Australian hosts take great pride not only
in their well-kept garden but also in the nearby gurgling creek, the surrounding
paddocks, a range of hills in the distance, the fragrance of innumerable blossoms,
and sweet musical calls of minahs and magpies (Chads 1994: 95). Barbara
Baynton also contrasts two different concepts of the landscape by means of the
juxtaposition of childhood and adult responses to the environment. In addition, her
story (A Dreamer, 1902) is a metaphorical expression of the need to separate from
ones parent (country) at a certain point in life. The idyllic sunny landscape of her
childhood undergoes an unrecognisable transformation in a threateningly violent
storm while a pregnant daughter gets herself almost drowned in an attempt to reach
her old home only to find her mother dead and receive not such a warm welcome by
the people in her mothers house. The treatment of the landscape by Australian
authors, therefore, can be said to indicate the anxiety at the root of Australian
identity.
8. Conclusion
The Australian ghost story developed through a marriage of the European
Gothic tradition and uniquely Australian historical and social conditions. While the
Australian ghost story uses the conventional themes of persecution, crime and guilt,
they are reworked within the specifically Australian context of the transportation of
convicts, the monstrous birth, cultural insecurity, the rapid development of a young
economy and the dispossession of the indigenous Australians. The Gothic
457
conventions of a murky atmosphere, pervading mystery, ominous tone, gloomy
mood, and nail-biting suspense are all incorporated into the Australian ghost story.
The setting, the characters and the motifs of British and American Gothic literature
are, however, reworked and given an Australian twist. Perhaps the most apt
illustration of how the conventional ghost story assumes a recognisably Australian
guise is the occasion on which such stories were told usually late winter evenings
around a cosy fire. As we learn from Praeds story, they were mostly campfire yarns
told by shearers, drovers and swagmen about their experiences in the bush. The
traditional dark cold Christmas night, as found in Dickenss A Christmas Carol,
receives a local inflection as found in Boothbys story which takes place on
Christmas Eve a sweltering mockery of the day (Boothby 1994: 130) or
described in the opening of Langs story: It was a winters night an Australian
winters night in the middle of July (Lang 1994: 1).
References
Baynton, B. (1994) A Dreamer. Gelder 157-162.
Boothby, G. (1994) With Three Phantoms. Gelder 127-134.
Botting, F. (1996). Gothic. London: Routledge.
Briggs, J. (2001). The Ghost Story. In: D. Punter (ed.). A Companion to the
Gothic. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers Ltd. 122-131.
Chads, E. A. (1994) The Ghost of Wanganilla: Founded on Fact. Gelder 94-101.
Clarke, M. (1994a) Human Repetends. Gelder 63-70.
Clarke, M. (1994b) Holiday Peak. Gelder 71-84.
Clarke, M. (2003). Preface to Gordons Poems. In: R. Risti. An Introduction to
Australian Studies. Ni: Univerzitet, Filozofski fakultet. 207-208.
Couvreur, J. (1994) The Rubria Ghost. Gelder 85-93.
Dowling, T. (1994) The Daemon Street Ghost-Trap. Gelder 281-292.
Favenc, E. (1994) The Red Lagoon. 139-141.
Fortune, M. (1994) The Ghostly White Gate. Gelder 36-62.
Freud, S. (1919). The Uncanny. Available at:
http://homepage.mac.com/allanmcnyc/textpdfs/freud1.pdf. Retrieved on:
March 5 2011.
Gelder, K. (ed.). (1994). The Oxford Book of Australian Ghost Stories. Melbourne:
OUP.
Gelder, K. (2007). Australian Gothic. In: C. Spooner and E. McEvoy (eds.). The
Routledge Companion to Gothic. 115-123.
Gordon, M. (1994) The Ghost That Came to Darwin. Gelder 201-204.
Hay, W. (1994) An Australian Rip Van Winkle. Gelder 166-191.
James, B. (1994) The Bunyip of Barneys Elbow. Gelder 220-229.
Lang, J. (1994) The Ghost Upon the Rail. Gelder 1-18.
Nisbet, H. (1994) The Haunted Station. Gelder 110-126.
458
Archer, L. M. (1994) At Coomassie Gully. Gelder 163-165.
Praed, R. (1994) The Bunyip. Gelder 102-109.
Smith. A. (2007). Gothic Literature. Edinburgh: Edinburgh UP.
Stivens, D. (1994a) Ironbark Bill Meets the Bunyip. Gelder 211-214.
Stivens, D. (1994b) The Hard-Working Ghost. Gelder 215-219.
Walker, W. S. (1994) The Evil of Yelocomorn Creek. Gelder 142-151.
Wells, H. G. (1894). The Red Room. Available at:
http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/23218/pg23218.txt. Retrieved on:
September 26 2011.
459
Milena Kosti /Vesna Lopii
Ni, Serbia
[email protected]; [email protected]
RACE AND GENDER IN EMILY PAULINE JOHNSONS A RED GIRLS
REASONING
Abstract Johnson questions the stereotypes of mixed-race and female in the
patriarchal world of North America after the creation of Canada in 1867. Being
herself an offspring of a Mohawk chief and British noblewoman, she ridicules the
Victorian notions of prudery, especially when imposed on the First Nations women.
Johnsons narrative is based on the dismissal of the Indian and female inferiority and
the claim for their equal treatment, thus reflecting Saids vision of the resistance on
the part of the Other: to re-chart and occupy the place in imperial cultural forms
reserved for subordination, fighting for it on the same territory once ruled by the
consciousness that assumed the subordination of a designated inferior Other
(Culture and Imperialism, 1993). This paper focuses on the issues of race and
gender in A Red Girls Reasoning (from The Moccasin Maker, 1913) and their
connection with contemporary notions of biculturalism and feminism.
Key words: race, gender, imperialism, biculturalism, colonialism, multiculturalism,
the Other.
1. Split identities: Johnsons version of the colonizer and the colonized
Emily Pauline Johnson is considered to be one of the pioneers who questioned
the stereotypes of mixed-race and female in the patriarchal world of Europe and
North America during the decades after the creation of the new dominion of Canada
in1867. Being herself an offspring of a Mohawk chief and British noblewoman, she
ridiculed the Victorian notions of purity, prudery and propriety, especially when
these notions were being imposed on the First Nations women who held different
values and beliefs about appropriate feminine behaviour. Owing to her lifestyle,
usually considered excessive by the European settlers in Canada, she rightfully
became the champion of human rights for the First Nations people, the first native
spokesperson for the domesticated Wild West. She dedicated her life to stage
performing, where she could blend her dual origin into a vision of unity during the
course of a single performance, Johnson posed as an Indian princess in her
traditional buckskin dress, rabbits pelts and Indian jewelry made by herself, and as
a British upper-class lady, in an ageing ball-gown, that helped her perform some
satirical sketches about the upper-class life in Ottawa. Although her performances
460
stayed on the level of entertainment, Johnson presented both aspects of her mixed-
race heritage as mutually dependent, yet split identities.
In her short stories, Johnson frequently confronts the white imperialist culture
and the fetishized image of the First Nations people as a mark of its national
difference. She uses aspects of this fetishized identity to resist the white hegemony
and to attempt to write herself along these lines of difference into the national script.
The idea that Johnson reinforces in her short stories, especially in A Red Girls
Reasoning, which is the subject of this paper, is that although the First Nations were
captive, they were never conquered. Regarding the matter of race, Johnson flirts
with the idea of Rousseaus noble savage, and with notions of mysticism and
exoticism that the civilized Victorians assigned to the Aboriginal population, and
presents them as proud, obstinate and frank people, even at their own cost.
Furthermore, in this story, the artificial binary opposition between the vulnerable
white woman, supportive of the males, and dirty, immoral squaw, is rightfully
rejected: regarding the matter of gender, Johnsons narrative is based on the
dismissal of the Indian and female inferiority in general, and the claim for their
equal treatment in the society, thus reflecting Saids vision of the resistance on the
part of the Other: to re-chart and then occupy the place in imperial cultural forms
reserved for subordination, to occupy it self-consciously, fighting for it on the very
same territory once ruled by the consciousness that assumed the subordination of a
designated inferior Other (Said 1993: 23).
Edward Said and his influential study Culture and Imperialism (1993) which
examines the relationship between the West and its imperial conquests within the
context of culture, can serve as a good starting point in the analysis of Johnsons A
Red Girls Reasoning. In this study, Said views imperialism not as a contained era of
history, but rather as something more fluid. According to him, imperialism works in
both the material world and in the imagination (hence his focus on literature); thus
the removal of a colonial or imperial power does not put an end to the influence of
imperialism in the beliefs and practices of a nation. The repercussions of
imperialism are still evident today in the Western culture and the culture of places
that have been colonized as well. Any analysis of imperialism must acknowledge
this two-way relationship, exploring how the colonizer country has impacted the
colonized, as well as looking at the ways imperialism has shaped the culture of the
colonizer.
In Johnsons short story, this two-way relationship is emphasized through the
marriage between the representatives of the colonizer and colonized, Charlie and
Christie. Johnson portrays their wedding ceremony in terms of biculturalism, with a
great reverence for the cultures that the young couple comes from: the priest canters
through the service in Latin, pronounces the benediction in English and
congratulates the newlyweds in Indian. Although this bicultural picture seems to
be idyllic, Charlie is warned about the genuine nature of his wife apart from being
dutiful, loving, fearless and obstinate, it is kindness for kindness, bullet for bullet,
blood for blood that he can expect from Christie. What you are, she will be
461
(Johnson 1999: 8). However, being so fond of Christie, Charlie, a proper
representative of the Victorian age, naively thinks that the love that binds them can
be a key to bridging the differences in their origins. At the beginning of the story,
Charlie is unaware of the fact that he acts as an amiable authority to Christie on
two grounds race and gender being white and male, he is unquestionably
superior to Christie, who is Indian and female.
2. Categorization of the Other: The cultured Indian
What is especially relevant for the theme of this paper is the idea that Said
specifically addresses the way in which subjugated peoples are represented within
literature and how it has affected not only these peoples but also the cultures they
live in. To accomplish his goal Said sets up a methodological argument within
which he addresses the following concepts. First, that imperialism is not about a
specific moment in history, but rather a continuing interdependent dialogue between
subject peoples and the dominant hegemony of the empire. This is essential to Said's
argument because it demonstrates that the end of imperialistic influence upon
literature did not end with colonial rule, but rather that it continues to exist within
postcolonial culture because of the circumstances in which subjugated peoples have
been placed. Secondly, through the production of popular Western literature authors
have perpetuated a sense of continued domination upon subject peoples. This theory
that postcolonial oppression has been institutionalized within Western literature is a
reference to the idea of a continuing interchange of ideas between the dominant
culture and oppressed peoples. Lastly, Said's comparison of colonialism to racism is
integral to his argument about the continuation of oppression in a postcolonial
environment. Throughout his analysis of culture, he focuses on the limitations of
subjugated peoples within Western culture and the reasons for their continued
oppression. Said points out that there are serious restrictions placed upon colonized
peoples, which not only affect the pursuit, but also the construction of their social
and economic goals. He suggests that it is often postcolonial society that tends to
oversimplify the intent of past imperialistic powers. By this oversimplification, there
are attempts to justify the view of European hegemony that was used as a
mechanism to bring about colonial rule, therefore separating the colonial intent from
colonized impact. In other words, the process of colonization is mostly presented as
a justified act, because it is undertaken for the sake of spreading civilization to
savages, civilizing the brutes, converting the heathen, or, to borrow Alice Millers
phrase it is undertaken for their own good (Miller 2002). However, in this book,
Said attempts to move beyond the rhetoric of blame and deconstruct the binary of
"colonizer" and "colonized" (Johnson 1999: 18). In her work, Johnson does the same
she claims that the white race and red are one if they are but Canadian born
(Canadian Born, the second book of poems, 20). Both Johnson and Said do not view
462
violence as an effective means of dealing with the legacy of imperialism, instead
placing much greater faith in the power of multicultural education.
Saids opinion about the way the subjugated peoples are represented in
literature can be illustrated by the manner the First Nations people are seen through
the eyes of the philistine white-settlers society in Johnsons A Red Girls
Reasoning. Christie, their representative, although quite ordinary, pale, dark girl
who spoke slowly and with a strange accent, danced fairly well, sang acceptably and
never stirred outside the door without her husband, immediately becomes all the
rage (Johnson 1999: 10) that winter at the provincial capital. The men called her a
deuced fine little woman, and the ladies perceived her as the sweetest
wildflower (Johnson 1999: 10). Even her husband Charlie, who as a boy had the
Indian relic-hunting craze and as a youth studied Indian archaeology and folklore,
though quite aware of the fact that Christie was utterly uncivilized and uncultured by
his civilized standards, highly praised her innate refinement so universally
possessed by the higher tribes of north American Indians (Johnson 1999: 9).
According to Charlie, she belonged to the type of the cultured Indian (Johnson
1999: 9). Johnson, being herself of mixed origin, emphasizes the idea that the
colonizers perceive the Other, the colonized Indian female, as an exotic entity, thus
projecting their own visions and stereotypes of a proper Indian on Christie. Thus,
the colonizers, instead of using aggression and violence over the colonized, actually
use the method of categorizing the Other: as long as Christie fits in perfectly within
the standards of the Victorian society and acts complacently in the drawing rooms of
the wives of the pompous Government officials, and, most importantly, is almost
abjectly devoted to her husband, the mixed-race marriage is a perfect success.
Johnsons portrayal of the union of the opposites is a good example of Saids
argument about imperialism as an interdependent dialogue between the dominant
colonizer and the repressed colonized party. The imperialistic influence does not end
with the colonial rule, as Said argues, it continues to exist within postcolonial
culture because of the manner in which subjugated peoples have been depicted, in
this case, as noble savages, raw and uncivilized, but with a touch of fine innate
refinement that makes them acceptable by the civilized and sophisticated
Europeans.
Through the reinforcement of the noble savage stereotype in popular Western
literature authors have perpetuated a sense of continued domination upon subject
peoples, claims Said, so that colonial oppression continues within the body of
Western literature, and, in that way, a continuing interchange of ideas between the
dominant culture and oppressed peoples takes place. However, Johnsons narrative
spoils this idyllic, though utterly unrealistic, image of the First Nations: when
offered a choice between the truth of white men and Indians, Christie chooses the
latter.
463
3. Choice between personal convictions and public opinion
The incident occurs rather trivially: at a party, in a Canadian provincial capital,
Christie is asked about the marriage ceremony of her parents. It is taken for granted
that Christies mother, a humble and ignorant Indian, succumbed to the marriage
rites of the white man, her husband being one of the first pioneers in the New World.
Furthermore, it is also assumed that Christie found a role model for her submissive
behaviour in her own family. However, the Victorian philistines are shocked after
being informed that the marriage ceremony of Christies parents was performed by
Indian rites, or, better to say, it included no ceremony at all. The two people just
agree to live only with and for each other, and the man takes his wife to his
homethere is no ritual to bind them; they need none; an Indians word was his law
in those days (Johnson 1999: 13).
This statement causes a roar of disapproval on the part of the whole assembly.
What is at stake here is a difference between the oral and written form of culture.
Johnson emphasizes the importance of unwritten laws and story telling as valid and
meaningful aspects of the First Nations culture, unlike the official letter of the law
practiced by more civilized European settlers. Her aim is to subvert the official
orthodoxies and to challenge conventional ways of thinking. This is what Christie
manages to achieve.
After the initial shock, the party, being assured that Charlie and Christie got
married according to the Christian laws, with Father OLeary leading the ceremony,
can be continued. However, it is Christie that disturbs the atmosphere of
conventional cheerfulness she rose, slowly, ominously, with the dignity and pride
of an empress (Johnson 1999: 13) protesting against the idea that her marriage
would not be lawful if undertaken according to Indian rites. Instead of offering her
support, Charlie is too weak to handle the pressure of his community and, outraged,
leaves the party, without being aware that this sign of weakness will soon cost him
dearly.
In addition, when approaching Christie next time, Charlie insists on the
conviction that his wife disgraced him, not only because of her public outburst, but
because of her concealing the significant facts about her life that could, in case he
knew them before, even put into question the institution of their marriage and his
affection towards her. Johnson portrays this conflict as a collision between two
principles: public and private, social obligation and personal conscience, legality and
justice, Christian and Indian. What seems to Charlie as a fit of ridiculously childish
temper (Johnson 1999: 17) is, on Christies part, a farewell to their union due to
Charlies betrayal of its uncorrupt sanctity:
I tell you we are not married. Why should I recognize the rites of your
nation when you do not acknowledge the rites of mine? According to your own
words, my parents should have gone through your church ceremony as well as
through an Indian contract; according to my words, we should go through an
464
Indian contract as well as through a church marriage. If their union is illegal, so
is ours. If you think my father is living in dishonour with my mother, my
people will think I am living in dishonour with you. How do I know when
another nation will come and conquer you as you white men conquered us?
And they will have another marriage rite to perform, and they will tell us
another truth, that you are not my husband, that you are but disgracing and
dishonouring me, that you are keeping me here, not as your wife, but as your
your squaw. (Johnson 1999: 16)
This outburst calls our attention to a key element of biculturalism here the
connection between race and culture. The cultural labels are never neutral, but carry
racially inscribed connotations of inferiority, completely opposed to the construction
of the Western society which presents itself as progressive and democratic. Edward
Said, in his study Orientalism (1994), claims that Orientalism presents a Western
style of dominating, restructuring and having authority and power over the Orient or
Other. (Said 1994: 3) As a result of this unfair power balance, the Orient is not a
free subject of thought or action. (Said 1994: 3) In effect, the unequal relationship
between the Occident (the West) and the Orient (the Other), causes the white-
European culture to gain in strength and identity by setting itself up against the
orient culture. (Said 1994: 3) The Oriental is seen as being irrational, depraved,
childlike and different, which is exactly how Charlie in A Red Girls Reasoning
perceives Christies behaviour after the unsuccessful party, whereas the European is
seen as rational, virtuous, mature and normal. (Said 1994: 40) From this point of
view, the title of Johnsons story contains a mighty paradox in itself: irrational red
girls cannot reason, their authorities in this case, white and male are in charge of
this demanding activity.
The following day, Charlie is ready to kiss and make up, as if nothing
important happened, he rationally concludes that he and his wife exaggerated and
behaved like children; however, Christie keeps up her word. In order to respect her
decision to leave Charlie and end their marriage, she does not need an official
stamped document her word is what matters and not to abide by it will mean to
lose, not only the respect of her native community, but, more importantly, her self-
esteem. Thus, before departing, she leaves a note to Joe, Charlies brother, assuring
the readers that the former spouses have already told everything they had to each
other, from which it becomes quite clear that her affection for her husband can never
be put into question, it will remain solid and constant forever: I hope you do not
mind, but I kissed your hair while you slept; it was so curly, and yellow, and soft,
just like his (Johnson 1999: 18).
In the same manner as her husband, Christie is given a choice between being
loyal to her genuine affection or to the unwritten laws of her community. Her
decision affects her private sphere, because she discards it for the sake of the public
conviction of her community and remains consistent with her decision till the end,
thus bringing into question the impact of the white colonizer and its alleged
465
supremacy over the racially inferior colonized. Simultaneously, her decision comes
into collision with the popular Indian, noble savage, stereotype among the white
settlers, and portrays them, as previously discussed, as captive, but never thoroughly
conquered.
In his work on fantasies of white supremacy, White Nation: Fantasies of White
Supremacy in a Multicultural Society (2000), Ghassan Hage claims that such
fantasies create a fertile ground for the development of nationalism in the white
settler societies. As such, they derive from and feed into a field of Whiteness. He
suggests that:
Whiteness is an ever-changing, composite cultural construct. It has its
roots in the history of European colonization which universalized a cultural
form of white identity as a position of cultural power at the same time as the
colonized were in the process of being racialised. Whiteness in opposition to
Blackness and Brownness was born at the same time as the binary oppositions
of colonizer/colonized, being developed / being underdeveloped, and later First
World / Third World was emerging. In this sense, White has become the ideal
of being the bearer of Western civilization. As such, no one can be fully
White, but people yearn to be so. It is in this sense that Whiteness is itself a
fantasy position and a field of accumulating Whiteness. It is by being qualified
to yearn for such a position that people can become identified as White. At the
same time, to be White does not mean to yearn to be European in a
geographical sense. (Hage 2000: 58)
Hage suggests that in order for the Black/Brown body to be constructed as
different and inferior, the White body has to retain its innocent and valorized status.
1
1
In the similar vein, Himani Bannerji, a contemporary Bengali-Canadian author, claims that the
violence of racism is masked by the discourses of denial, on the categorization of racism as something
other than what it is, on the tactics of individualization, and the conversion of racial differences into
categories that demonize, trivialize or erase the difference in ways that suit the interests of a dominant,
hegemonic power. In part, this is achieved through a systematic use of coded language to refer to racial
differences. Bannerji summarizes it when she says that there is not even a language within the states
redress apparatus to capture or describe the racist sexism towards third world or non-white women and
men (Bannerji 2000: 47). The type of language that exists is that which utilizes coded signifiers such
as culture, diversity, tolerance, difference, thereby disguising any option of systemic and
symbolic violence of race and racism. Most discourses on race utilize coded words such as
immigrant, refugee, alien, terrorist, to refer to people of colour. Such words colour up and
disguise the main relations of power and present these categories as authentic absolutes against which
the normative Canadian is implicitly defined as the white, law-abiding citizen of the nation.
In Johnsons short story, the method of colouring up the main relations of power is revealed
through the manner the white philistines address Christie. They are not certain whether it would be
politically correct, to use the term quite popular in the modern body politics, to call her an Indian or red
squaw or native, etc. In order to disguise this uncertainty and to reinforce their own superiority over the
colonized, they refer to the natives as her mothers people (Johnson 1999: 12), and it is Christie
466
However, as already suggested, Johnsons deconstructs the binary oppositions
of white/red, superior/inferior, colonizer/colonized, innocent/corrupt, by
emphasizing the narrow-mindedness of this world view. Not only that the
representatives of the First Nations in this story are far from being interested in
becoming white and civilized themselves, but they obstinately stick to their oral
tradition and loyalty to the community, even at the cost of sacrificing their genuine
selves.
For example, the moment Charlie realizes that he put at stake his marriage to
Christie by insisting on the respect of the written rules of the Christian community,
he goes on a quest to find his wife and bring her back home. He was often
discouraged, but never despondent on his way. He even took to petting dogs,
looking into their large, solemn eyes with his wistful, questioning blue ones; he
would kiss them, as women sometimes do, and call them dear old fellow in tones
that had tears (Johnson 1999: 18). On one occasion, Charlie saves a huge St
Bernard dog imprisoned in an empty freight car. The animal was nearly dead from
starvation, and it turned out that to rescue back the dogs life was a remedy for his
own sick heart. The relationship between Charlie and the dog reveals Charlies inner
need for genuine love and affection provided by his wife that, in her absence, found
a substitute in a simple, two-way, uncorrupt emotion between a man and animal.
This emotion, a sign of his deep regret and reverence for the sanctity of his love for
Christie, keeps him in life till the moment he finds his beloved again.
The moment Charlie sees Christie again he cannot conceal his genuine
affection: His heart swelled with a sudden heat, burning moisture leapt into his
eyes, and clogged his long, boyish lashes (Johnson 1999: 19). Christies initial
reaction is instinctive she is physically drawn to the man she loves: For a second,
she stood magnetized by his passionately wistful face, her peculiar grayish eyes
seemed to drink the very life of his unquenchable loveshe quivered from head to
foot as his fair, wavy hair brushed her neck, his despairing face sank lower until his
cheek, hot as fire, rested on the cool, olive flesh of her arm. A warm moisture oozed
up through her skin, and as he felt its glow, he looked up. (Johnson 1999: 20)
However, she shows that even a red girl can reason and restrain herself, as
previously suggested in the title of the story, she remains as cold as stone and quotes
her tribes belief, traditionally passed on from generation to generation, that even
love cannot make a slave of a red girl. Charlie leaves desperately, and Christie
remains on her own, conscious of but two things, the vengeful lie in her soul, and a
little space on her arm that his wet lashes had brushed (Johnson 1999: 20).
In other words, Christies actions do not differ from those of Charlie: both of
them give primacy to the laws of their communities at the expense of their private
convictions. This is Johnsons way of showing how woefully incomplete and one-
sided the wide-spread public opinion of the Other is, and how, by following blindly
herself that is not civilized enough and speaks the truth about the matter: Perhaps you are, like all
other white people, afraid to mention my nationality to me (Johnson 1999: 12).
467
the tyranny of the majority, one can end completely dissociated from his/her genuine
nature. Both the white settlers culture and the culture of the First Nations are put
under scrutiny and presented as restrictive and oppressive in Johnsons A Red Girls
Reasoning.
4. Conclusion: multicultural dream come true?
With her art and stage performing, Johnson confronts the Western cultural,
political, and literary hegemonies and creates a counter discourse to the already
established Western literary and historical discourses. In 1892, she was given a prize
for fiction by Dominion magazine for A Red Girls Reasoning, thus obtaining the
title of the first native Canadian poet. In her work, she testifies to the fact that not all
individuals in Canada are equal before and under the law, do not enjoy equal
status, and do not have an equal opportunity with other individuals as the
Multiculturalism Act, passed on in 1988, almost a century after this story was
written, promulgates. Multiculturalism is an aspiring concept that attempts to
include all individuals in the Canadian society and to tackle the problems linked
with cultural and social inequalities and racism. It thus creates a national myth of
equality and integration. The reality for many visible minorities, for instance, the
First Nations, is a different one, however, and they painfully realize that the two
founding nations still dominate all spheres of this multicultural society. However,
the mere fact that Johnson raised her voice against racial and gendered injustice
almost a century ago is optimistic enough and gives us hope that in the future there
will be more voices who will seek for justice and equal treatment in the Canadian
society, not in Charlies and Christies way, by sacrificing themselves for the noble
goals of their communities, but by giving priority to the personal convictions and
private decisions. Thus, Emily Pauline Johnson becomes our contemporary who, in
her writing, warns us about the tragic consequences of the disrespect for the free will
of an individual, notwithstanding his/her race and gender, in multicultural Canada
today.
References
Bannerji, H. (2000). The paradox of diversity: The construction of a Multicultural
Canada and Women of Color
.
Women's Studies International Forum, Volume
23, Issue 5, September-October 2000, Pages 537-560.
Hage, G. (2000). White Nation: Fantasies of White Supremacy in a Multicultural
Society. New York: Routledge.
Johnson, E. P. (1999). A Red Girls Reasoning. In: R. Sullivan. (ed.). Oxford Book
of Stories by Canadian Women in English. Toronto: Oxford University Press,
8-21.
468
Johnson, E. P. (1903). Canadian Born, Toronto: George N. Morang & co.
Miller, A. (2002). For Your Own Good: Hidden Cruelty in Child-Rearing and the
Roots of Violence. New York: Farrar - Straus Giroux.
Said, E. W. (1994). Orientalism. New York: Vintage Books
Said, E. W. (1993). Culture and Imperialism. New York: Vintage Books.
469
Viktorija Krombholc
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
(IN)VISIBILITY AND POWER IN SARAH WATERS'S AFFINITY
Abstract Sarah Water's second novel Affinity is set in the infamous London prison,
designed by Jeremy Bentham with the aim of achieving the principle of panopticism
of complete and constant surveillance of the prisoners. The novel takes up this idea
and places the characters within a complex network of visible and invisible
positions, of looking and being looked at. Margaret Prior, a Lady Visitor at the
prison, is initially given a seemingly superior position which exposes the prisoners
to her gaze. The aim of the paper is to explore how her position is undermined as the
novel progresses until it becomes clear that she is the one under scrutiny, which
ultimately leads to her demise.
Key words: panopticism, gaze, power, neo-Victorian novel, Sarah Waters, Affinity
1. Introduction
Sarah Waterss second novel Affinity (1999) is a tale of desire and deception set
in the Victorian era, and as such it reflects current literary interest in reviving
different historical periods and approaching them from a contemporary perspective.
Waterss novel engages with the Victorian discourses of gender, sexuality and class
and looks at the erasures and omissions in the Victorian narrative in an attempt to
illuminate the previously invisible sections in the Victorian text, specifically the
narrative of lesbian desire. The novel is centred on the diary entries of Margaret
Prior, a middle-class lady visitor to Londons Millbank prison, and Selina Dawes, a
young medium imprisoned after a spiritual sance ends in the death of her
benefactress. Margaret becomes increasingly attracted to her and is led to believe
that the feelings are mutual, only to eventually be swindled of her inheritance and
her identity. Left with nothing but her unfulfilled desires, she takes her own life. The
prison narrative serves to illustrate Margarets position in the Victorian society and
to point to different levels of observation and surveillance at work in the novel. As a
member of the middle-class, Margaret is initially placed in a seemingly superior
position to the prisoners, but in truth her unmarried status, intellectual aspirations
and unwillingness to conform to rigid social norms relegate her to the margins of
Victorian society and align her with the inmates. This precarious position makes her
particularly susceptible to the trickery she is exposed to.
470
2. The Panopticon and panopticism
The descriptions of Millbank prison rely on the available factual information
and genuine historical records of the actual prison that existed in place of todays
Tate Gallery in Pimlico, London, between 1816 and 1890. The prison was built to
reflect the Panopticon design conceptualized in 1785 by Jeremy Bentham. It
consisted of six pentagons housing different wards, and a hexagonal building in the
central yard where the governors offices were situated. Each of the pentagon yards
also contained a watch tower and the warders premises (see Figure 1).
Figure 1: Bird's-eye view of Millbank Prison from Henry Mayhew's, 'The Criminal Prisons
of London', 1862. British Library Board (Shelfmark: 6057.i.7). Reproduced by permission.
Due to Millbanks panoptic design, when discussing the issues of gaze and
power in Affinity Waterss critics mostly turn to Michel Foucaults Discipline and
Punish: The Birth of the Prison (1975; transl. into English in 1977) and its
discussion of panopticism. Foucault engages with the issues of looking and being
looked at from a social and institutional standpoint. In Discipline and Punish, the
gaze occupies the central position in his discussion of surveillance and institutional
control, as the vehicle to their enforcement, as can be seen from the selected
quotations given below:
Visibility is a trap. (Foucault 1995: 200)
Hence the major effect of the Panopticon: to induce in the inmate a state of
conscious and permanent visibility that assures the automatic functioning of
power. (Foucault 1995: 201)
471
Power has its principle not so much in a person as in a certain concerted
distribution of bodies, surfaces, lights, gazes. (Foucault 1995: 202, added
emphasis)
The layout of the Panopticon, with the walls of the cells facing the yard open to
inspection and allowing the interior to be seen from the central tower, means that the
prisoners movements are observable at all times by a small number of guards. The
key feature of the design is the fact that even though actual surveillance does not
take place constantly, the very awareness of this possibility is enough to constrain
and exert control over the self-conscious prisoners. The panoptic gaze therefore
functions through the internalization of its influence by the object it is turned upon,
so that it becomes its own monitor. What is more, Foucault develops the Panopticon
as an architectural solution into the wider notion of panopticism as the organizing
principle of government and state control, positing all-seeing state power which
registers and appropriately sanctions any type of misbehaviour or unacceptable
phenomena, as opposed to its subjects who act as self-censors, curbing any
unlicensed impulses. Foucaults panoptic principle is apparent in the descriptions of
prison life and the details of Margarets visits to Millbank, and has a broader
significance for her status in her family and in society at large.
3. Other theoretical approaches
Foucaults work is certainly a fruitful theoretical base for the discussion of
Affinity and will serve to frame the analysis proposed here; however, one can
observe resonances of other concepts as well, such as Sartres notion of the Look
(Fr. le regard), described in Being and Nothingness: A Phenomenological Essay
on Ontology (1943, transl. into English in 1956), and Lacanian interpretations of the
gaze
1
, its role in the formation of the ego and its social aspect. Lacans ideas have
been further taken up by contemporary feminist film theory, most notably Laura
Mulvey. What connects these theoretical approaches is their notion of vision as an
exercise of power, along with the fact that they have had an enormous influence on a
whole range of disciplines, from literary criticism, film and photography studies to
social and political theory.
Simply speaking, Sartres concept of the Look states that being looked at by
another makes one aware of him or herself as an object in the others eyes. The look
provokes anxiety and feelings of fear, shame (both moral and existential, as Sartres
examples show) or pride, because it implies the subjectivity of the other and the
1
Lacans concept has been translated into English as gaze, but it is also le regard in the
original French text. Subsequent critics working on the grounds of Lacans theory have in fact
differentiated between the look and the gaze, but as this distinction is not crucial for the analysis
given here the two terms will be used interchangeably.
472
objectivity of the self. Because the look interprets and ascribes meaning based on the
exteriority of the object, it reduces one to the external image perceived by another.
At the same time, it confirms its existence and places it within another referential
system: To be looked at is to apprehend oneself as the unknown object of
unknowable appraisals in particular, of value judgements. (...) In so far as I am the
object of values which come to qualify me without my being able to act on this
qualification or even to know it, I am enslaved (Sartre 1969: 267). The look
therefore suggests the freedom of the other and the absence of ones own.
In Lacanian theory, on the other hand, the gaze is explored in psychoanalytical
terms and is seen as crucial to the development of the ego. The childs mirror image
and its apparent completeness are contrasted with the fragmentation of the body
experienced by the child. For this reason, the child identifies with the image, and for
Lacan this moment marks the birth of the ego. Because it leads to identification with
another, the gaze has a significant social aspect. Kaja Silverman concludes that the
gaze represents a means by which we are
...socially ratified or negated as spectacle. It is Lacans way of stressing that we
depend upon the other not only for our meaning and our desires, but also for
our very confirmation of self. To be is in effect to be seen. (...) [I]t would
seem to represent the inevitable feature of all social existence. (Silverman
1996: 133-4)
Finally, the connection between the gaze and sexual desire has been of
particular interest to feminist film theory, explored in terms of scopophilia, or
pleasure derived from looking at another as an erotic object. In her seminal essay
Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema, Laura Mulvey suggests that traditional
narrative cinema reflects and plays on the socially established gendered codes of
looking and objectification, according to which the female figure is coded for
strong visual and erotic impact, signifying to-be-looked-at-ness (Mulvey 1999:
837), whereas the man is ascribed the active role of spectator. Mulvey argues that
the cinematic pleasure rests precisely on the audiences identification with the male
figure and the gaze it casts.
Affinity directly engages with these critical concepts. Sartres and Lacans ideas
provide deeper insight in the exploration and understanding of Margarets shifting
position within the visual network which comprises her family, the prison officials,
the prisoners, and most significantly, Selina Dawes and Ruth Vigers. Mulveys
framework, on the other hand, proves useful for the analysis of Margarets
interaction with Selina and the carefully crafted seduction she succumbs to.
4. Margaret Prior: from the observer to the observed
The narrative of the prison echoes Foucaults ideas by clearly demonstrating
the power balance inherent in the division between the prison staff as observers
473
(serving as symbols of government and society in general) and the prisoners as the
observed (mostly, but not exclusively, members of the lower class). The visits
highlight the key features in the prison design which enable this division to be
enforced. As in the actual Pimlico prison, each of Millbanks pentagons houses a
different prison ward, and in the central yard there is a building where the emblems
of institutional power are concentrated the governors office along with the clerks
offices, the chapel, the surgeons house and the infirmaries. Initially, Margaret is
given the position of the observer, who is not only allowed to look freely at the
prisoners, but who is to serve as a role model of acceptable female behaviour, as
opposed to the criminality and monstrous femininity embodied by the female
prisoner. Her initial identification therefore lies with the warders and the power
bestowed upon them. However, it is suggested rather early on that the apparent class
division existing between her and the prisoners need not hold, foreshadowing not
only Margarets subsequent identification with the inmates, but her multiply
exposed position: Why, we have had ladies here, (...) Ladies, miss, quite like
yourself. (Waters 2008: 25; see also 327-8).
When Mr Shillitoe, the prison governor, takes her to the central tower,
Margaret immediately feels drawn to the view from the window. Each of the
characters present in the scene displays a sense of pleasure at being able to watch the
yard fill with women, who emerge for their hour of exercise:
Miss Haxby, will you come to the window and watch with Miss Prior? Now,
Miss Prior, keep your eyes before you, and you shall see something! (Waters
2008: 13)
Miss Haxby, I thought, gazed at the plodding women with a kind of
satisfaction. See how they know their places, she said. (Waters 2008: 14)
I gazed again at the circling women, saying nothing, thinking my own
thoughts.
You like to look at them, Miss Haxby said then.
She said she had never had a visitor yet that didnt like to stand at that window
and watch the women walk. It was as curative, she thought, as gazing at fish in
a tank.
After that, I moved from the glass. (Waters 2008: 17)
For Mr Shillitoe, the women are a spectacle he invites Margaret to observe.
Miss Haxby, the matron, watches the women in the yard with satisfaction because
they know their places, and even though she refers to the orderly movements of
the prisoners, the remark is indicative of the power relations which underscore the
scene. Finally, for Margaret, gazing at the women is represented as a source of
pleasure. After Miss Haxby observes this, Margaret feels uneasy and moves away
from the window. This feeling of unease is reminiscent of Sartres voyeur from
474
Being and Nothingess, who experiences shame and anxiety when caught peeping
through the keyhole (Sartre 1969: 259-261). This is the first suggestion of
Margarets growing visibility to different power structures which is to become fully
apparent later on. The scene also illustrates the dehumanizing effects of the gaze
the women are likened to fish in the tank, which complements other dehumanizing
descriptions of them, as dolls, beads on a string, or ghosts. The dynamics of being
observed while observing will be repeatedly played upon throughout the novel. For
instance, as she secretly watches Selina in her cell for the first time, Margaret moves
away only when the privacy of the moment is disturbed by the matrons footsteps,
and the scene can be read as another resonance of Sartres voyeur, whose imagined
observer is anticipated by aural cues (the footsteps in the corridor).
Another tool for the supervision of the prisoners is the inspection flap on their
doors, or the eye. The unsettling nature of this punishment is evident in the
prisoners repeated attempts to blind the matrons through the flap and both
symbolically and literally remove the constant gaze turned upon them. Selina Dawes
singles out as one of the most unbearable aspects of her punishment the fact that she
is ceaselessly exposed to the gaze of others: All the world may look at me, it is part
of my punishment. (...) To have the matrons eye ... forever on you (Waters 2008:
47-9). As observed by Llewellyn (2004), it is hardly surprising that when Selina
attacks a matron, she hits her with a trencher across the eyes, blinding her
temporarily (see Waters 2008: 249). Interestingly, while constant surveillance is
imposed as part of the regular disciplinary regime, the punishment for severe breach
of the prisons regulations is precisely the opposite being put in the darks, a cell
at the heart of the prison, in complete darkness, away from anyones eyes. The
darkness is perceived as an existential threat, and the prisoner faced with this
punishment fears she will die in the dark, like a stinking rat (Waters 2008: 183),
which is in line with Silvermans assertion that the gaze, in Lacanian terms, serves
as the confirmation of the self.
Initially, Margaret uses the power afforded to her privileged position of the
observer and looks through the flap at the women, who either remain unaware of her
gaze or simply acknowledge the faceless presence behind the door. The first woman
Margaret secretly watches is a woman imprisoned for attempted suicide by sedative
overdose, a criminal offence Margaret herself is guilty of, having attempted to take
her life after her fathers death. The matron invites Margaret to take a look and in
doing that, Margaret experiences her own vicarious punishment, having previously
escaped its actual enforcement owing to her social status, which induces feelings of
guilt and self-loathing. As a result, her identification shifts further from the guards to
the prisoners, so when she refers to her old griefs (her unrequited love for her
sister-in-law, her fathers death, her attempted suicide) she uses images that bear
association with imprisonment. She imagines her past shut with a strap and a
buckle (Waters 2008: 29), suggestive of a corrective facility, but also of a mental
institution, which foreshadows both her hysterical episodes and her poor judgement
of Selinas true motives.
475
Margaret does not retain her position of the clandestine observer for long. In
her subsequent visits, she finds herself exposed both to increasingly reciprocating
gaze cast by the prisoners and to the inspection of the matrons.
Now I did hear Mrs Jelfs boot upon the passage-way. Quickly! I said
for my heart had begun to beat so fast in my breast, I saw the cloth above it
give a quiver, like a drum-skin. () Still the boot came closer, still my heart
thumped! () and Mrs Jelf made her appearance at the bars. I saw her dark
eyes searching, in their usual fretful way; but there was nothing to see, except
my fluttering breast and that I covered with my coat (Waters 2008: 115)
The quoted scene is the first in a series of scenes where Margaret is placed
behind the cell door, anxious to avoid the searching look of the matrons. The spatial
twist on Sartres voyeur scene, which places her inside the cell, reflects how
Margaretss seemingly superior position is progressively undermined, until she
proves completely visible and therefore powerless. Additionally, and more
significantly, Selina reciprocates Margarets gaze and in doing so shifts the power
balance, claiming the position of power for herself. Her gaze is described as
unflinching (Waters 2008: 44), still (46) and unsettling (46, 64), her eyes are
dark as a magicians (272), and in many scenes Margaret cannot bear her direct
gaze and has to avert her eyes (88, 110). Selinas penetrating gaze is threatening
because it discloses all Margarets hidden anxieties while revealing nothing of the
observer:
... [I] still felt her watching. (...) You have come to Millbank, to look on
women more wretched than yourself, in the hope that it will make you well
again. I remember the words very clearly, because they were so gross, and
yet came so close to the truth... (Waters 2008: 47)
Selina manages to further destabilize Margarets gaze by willingly exposing
herself to it and exciting fetishist fantasies. Margarets very first surreptitious gaze at
Selina, whose perfect stillness and devotional posture invoke an association with a
saint or an angel depicted in a Renaissance painting, discloses the scopophilic nature
of her interest. In fact, Margarets position of an invisible guest, looking at the
image framed by the door flap from the darkness of the corridor, parallels that of the
film spectator looking in on a private world (Mulvey 1999: 836) framed by the
film screen. The association with a painting depicting a sacred figure points to
Margarets subsequent objectification and fetishisation of Selina and different
objects associated with her a reproduction of Carlo Crivellis painting that she
keeps in her room, the coil of Selinas hair she secretly seeks out among the
prisoners belongings, and most importantly, her velvet collar. Selina and her
possessions become the locus of Margarets desire, much like the locket with the
curl of Helens hair used to be. As Mulvey suggests, fetishistic scopophilia
476
manifests itself as the over-valuation of the object, which in Margarets case
culminates when she recognizes Selinas features in the face and hands of the Virgin
in one of Crivellis paintings.
The power of Selinas gaze is attributed to her spiritual sensitivity, and the
connection which is established between visual and spiritual insight serves not only
to create an air of mystery, but also to conceal Selinas true motives. In her study on
late Victorian spiritualism and the issues of gender and power, Alex Owen reports a
common belief among the Victorians that a mesmerist must have a powerful
Magnetic Gaze, which is searching, piercing (Owen 2004: 128). She also
observes that the cabinet, used by a great number of mediums (Selina included),
provided a means of shield[ing] the medium from public gaze (Owen 2004: 46)
and its implicit scrutiny. These beliefs are evident in Selinas insistence that her
spirit-friends see everything. Even the pages of [Margarets] secret book (Waters
2008: 111), leading Margaret to believe that the most intimate details from her diary
become visible through the spirits eyes. Falling prey to her own wish for romantic
fulfilment, Margaret discovers only too late that her principal observer is her own
maid Vigers, working in league with Selina to trick and rob her.
5. The social Panopticon: gender roles and class blindness
Margarets exposure to Selinas and Vigerss gaze, with its tragic
consequences, is associated with her social visibility and its equally damaging
effects. She feels growing unease at being the object of observation both at the
prison and in her own home. In fact, the distinction between the two becomes
blurred, as she associates the prison matrons with her mother, who controls access to
her sedatives, sets watch over her during her bouts of illness and whose scolding is a
constant reminder of Margarets inability to fulfil the domestic roles required of her
sex. As a childless and unmarried woman with intellectual aspirations, Margaret
embodies improper femininity as much as the prisoners she visits, and because she is
a middle-class lady her transgression of social norms is perceived as far worse.
During one of her early visits to Millbank, she imagines one of the prisoners as a
humbled fairy princess, set to work at some impossible labour (Waters 2008: 24).
In the light of her subsequent identification with the prisoners, this description is
indicative of how she perceives her own position in the society humbled,
constricted and given the impossible task of fitting the norms of acceptable womens
behaviour.
Although Margaret perceives the threat posed by the institutional gaze
embodied by the matron, and by the social and familial gaze embodied by her
mother, and seeks to escape them, she fails to comprehend the danger of Selinas
gaze; to the contrary, she revels in it. Ironically, she feels its reach even in the
privacy of her bedroom, but she tragically misinterprets the significance of this
specular interaction. This is not surprising, as Selinas gaze provides a desired
477
identity Margaret is not allowed to have within the bounds of socially imposed
norms an interesting and original rebel, rather than a plain and awkward spinster.
For Margaret, Selina is also the ideal image she identifies with early on (You are
like me, Waters 2008: 82), a belief Selina actively fosters (Look at any part of you
it might be me that you are looking at! [Waters 2008: 275]). Even though
Margarets exposure to Selinas gaze at first seems liberating from the restrictions
imposed by the judging eyes of the Victorian society, allowing her to be her
unbridled, true self, her failure to remain in the position of the active observer has
disastrous consequences.
Margarets resentment of the socially imposed restrictions on womens
behaviour and of the severely limited range of female roles finds relief in hysterical
episodes reminiscent of the prisoners enraged outbreaks. Not surprisingly, in
accordance with the Victorian understanding of hysteria her mental state is
interpreted as a consequence of her unmarried status and her gender, rather than
inadequate mental stimulation or frustrated desires (see Showalter, The Female
Malady, 1985). Despite the supervision she imposes, Margarets mother remains
oblivious not only to the true source of her daughters frustration (She thinks she
sees into all my weaknesses. She does not, of course, see the greatest one, Waters
2008: 288), but also to the presence of the second observer in the house, Vigers.
Unlike Mrs Prior, Vigers correctly interprets Margarets nervous disposition,
proving herself the more astute observer.
As a servant, Vigers remains completely invisible to Margaret and to the
members of her family, which enables her to actualize her plan without arousing any
suspicion. As Margarets maid, she has free access to her room and her belongings,
and uses it to plant different objects supposedly sent by Selina through spiritual
channels, and more importantly, to read Margarets diary and report its content back
to her accomplice. Vigerss invisibility in Margarets middle-class family guarantees
that the gaze is never turned in her direction to compromise her plans, which means
that the controlling gaze hits a blind spot; it is undermined and rendered powerless
by a character the society deems unworthy of the gaze in the first place. Ironically,
Margaret receives an early warning pointing to the origin of the gaze turned upon
her, when one of the matrons warns her not to leave any valuable objects in sight of
the prisoners, as she would keep [her] rings and trinkets hidden from the eyes of a
servant (Waters 2008: 16). While this warning allows for the possibility of a
servant turning their eyes upon an object, Margaret fails to recognize that the gaze
could be turned upon herself as well. As Heilmann and Llewellyn conclude, the
consequences of acquiescing with the idea that those deemed socially inferior are
irrelevant and therefore rightly remain invisible to us strike home with a vengeance
(Heilmann & Llewellyn 2010: 188).
478
6. Conclusion: invisibility, privacy and the narrative
The final consideration to be made is the relevance of the issues of visibility
and invisibility with regard to the narrative. The presence of the institutional gaze is
contrasted with the intimacy and supposed privacy implied by the diary form used
(see Brindle 2009/10). What Affinity does is effect a subversion of both. On the one
hand, the diary as a private document is compromised. In fact, what enables the
success of the trick is precisely the intrusion on the privacy of Margarets secret
book. Although the visibility of her diary is initially perceived by Margaret as a
token of her special bond with Selina and a gateway to their secret communication,
not to be feared but relished, the fact that she does not recognize its implicit danger
becomes the crucial factor in her demise. Once the devious scheme reveals itself,
Margaret burns her diary because she feels that both the diary and her feelings have
been tainted by Vigerss gaze: I () cannot bear to read again what I set down
before. When I tried that, I seemed to see the smears of Vigerss gaze upon the
pages, sticky and white (Waters 2008: 348).
On the other hand, the narrative of the prison is contained within Margarets
diary narrative, which is inevitably limited by her own perspective, both in terms of
how much she is allowed to see and how she interprets the events she witnesses. On
a different level, societys surveillance of Margaret proves equally limited and
ineffectual, its failure symbolized by the policeman patrolling outside Margarets
home, who remains oblivious to any of the tragic events inside. Even though the
matrons suspect the true motive behind her visits, it remains unknown to her mother,
and the society at large. As only a select few have insight into Margarets secret
infatuation, we can assume that her goodbye note to her family is likely to be read as
a suicide note, and that her death will be ascribed to her unstable mental condition.
Finally, the secret correspondence between Selina and Vigers, crucial to the entire
plot, remains invisible to the supposedly all-seeing panoptic gaze. Ultimately, secret
communication triumphs over the controlling power of vision and attempts at
absolute knowledge, and the entire story of Margarets ill-fated desire is likely to
remain invisible to the majority of those involved. At the same time, the true
narrative of female same-sex desire in Victorian times, the liaison between Selina
and Vigers, remains veiled in both specular and narrative terms, and it is left to the
power of imagination, Margarets and the readers alike, to piece it together.
References
Brindle, K. (2009/10). Diary as Queer Malady: Deflecting the Gaze in Sarah
Waterss Affnity. Neo-Victorian Studies 2(2), 65-85.
Foucault, M. (1995). Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Transl. by Alan
Sheridan. New York: Vintage.
Heilmann, A. and Llewellyn, M. (2010). Neo-Victorianism: The Victorians in the
Twenty-First Century, 1999-2009. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.
479
Llewellyn, M. (2004). Queer? I should say its criminal! Sarah Waterss Affinity
(1999). Journal of Gender Studies 13(3), 203-214.
Mulvey, L. (1999). Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema. In: L. Braudy and M.
Cohen (eds.). Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings. New York:
Oxford UP, 833-844.
Owen, A. (2004). The Darkened Room: Women, Power, and Spiritualism in Late
Victorian England. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Sartre, J. P. (1969). The Look. In: Being and Nothingness: A Phenomenological
Essay on Ontology. Transl. by Hazel E. Barnes. London: Routledge, 252-302.
Silverman, K. (1996). Threshold of the Visible World. London and New York:
Routledge.
Waters, S. (2008). Affinity. London: Virago.
Illustrations
Bird's-eye view of Millbank Prison from Henry Mayhew's, 'The Criminal Prisons of
London', 1862. Copyright The British Library Board. Available at:
http://www.bl.uk/learning/images/victorian/crime/large102173.html. Retrieved
on: 14 March 2011.
480
Arijana Luburi-Cvijanovi
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
INNOCENCE AND EXPERIENCE: ECHOES OF WILLIAM BLAKE AND
GOTA KRISTF IN CHRIS ABANIS SONG FOR NIGHT
Abstract Chris Abanis novella Song for Night records a West African child
soldiers nightmarish journey of self-discovery through a warzone landscape in
search of his platoon. Tracing the narrators haunting story, the paper aims at
exploring the Blakean concept of innocence and experience and drawing parallels
with gota Kristfs The Notebook, another account of the loss of innocence in war.
Special attention is paid to the point of view as it plays a crucial role in shedding
light on the narrators passage from innocence to experience, from ignorance to
knowledge, against a backdrop of unspeakable brutalities which the child adapts to.
Key words: innocence, experience, loss, war, Abani, Blake, Kristf.
Because I was happy upon the heath,
And smild among the winters snow:
They clothed me in the clothes of death,
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.
William Blake, The Chimney Sweeper
1. The bleak Blakean journey
How far into darkness can a being go and still find their way back to light.
And how much is it necessary for there to be darkness for the concept of light to
exist (Kaufman 2006: 2). These words of the Nigerian author Chris Abani curiously
echo William Blakes much quoted ideainherited from Jakob Boehmethat without
opposites there is no progression. So does his novella Song for Night which sets
Blakes notions of innocence and experience in the context of indescribable, yet
graphically portrayed horrors of an unnamed civil war in Nigeria, with its title
suggesting that this is a song of as well as for innocence lost. Amidst the novellas
many intertextual references, the Blakean prove useful and perhaps indispensable in
interpreting contemporary forms of injustice in Abanis work.
Among his other works, Blakes famous collection Songs of Innocence and of
Experience, influenced by Miltons Paradise Lost and, structurally, L Allegro and
Il Penseroso, explores the concept of the former giving way to the latter, of
innocence taken away, within the cheerful pastoral setting of the Songs of Innocence
481
which transforms into the dark, wintry and increasingly urbanized fallen world of
the Songs of Experience. Embodying a complex idea of innocence as spiritually and
morally pure yet ignorant and therefore fragile, containing the new-born innocence
of children and lambs, the vulnerable and exploited innocence that shows children
neglected and enslaved, and the mature vision of a world of love in which God is
found in the merciful and peaceful acts (Watson 1985: 88), the earthly paradise that
Blake evokes in the collections first section is perhaps unique in European pastoral
poetry in its support of a determined and intellectually rigorous antipastoral
(Curran 1986: 111). Contrary to the children of the second section, those in the
Songs of Innocence are painfully unaware of being abused by a corrupt, materialistic
age. The merry rhythm of the line So your chimneys I sweep and in soot I sleep
(Blake 1967: 39) sharply contrasts with the image of innocence lying in the soot of
human cruelty. Song, laughter and play are frequently interrupted by weeping, if
sometimes for joy, which turns louder in the desolate world of the Songs of
Experience, more explicitly critical of social injustices and inequalities. A little
black thing among the snow
1
(Blake 1967: 90) speaks of the merciless reification
of children sold by their parents and thus commodified.
2
Neglect, poverty, child
labour and racism now shriek in Blakes bleak vision, with innocence remaining an
ideal to be struggled for (Watson 1985: 88), one which, like all ideals, is always out
of reach. For those who have lost innocence, there is no going back. Their only
option is to move on by embracing experience. Having no alternative, this is
precisely what the children soldiers in Song for Night do.
Set in Nigeria, three years into a senseless war (Abani 2007: 19), the novella
traces the steps of a child soldiers search for his lost platoon. As he progresses on
his way through the war-ridden country, both the reader and the child, with the
former always a few steps ahead, gradually realize that this is a mythical and
metaphysical journey of self-discovery and redemption, reminiscent of Coleridges
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. His journey home is also one of memory, taking
him from one scene of past trauma to another (Abani 2007: 147), forcing him to
face his desire, shame, guilt and fear. Along the way, his is the only point of view
we are allowed and he is the most unreliable of narrators, one who is for long
unaware of the true meaning of his dreamlike odyssey.
Abanis peculiar blend of beauty and horror, reality and imagination, history
and myth, presents us with the legacy of the moment depicted in Chinua Achebes
Things Fall Apart, when contact was established between the white man and the
black man. A former British colony, Nigeria faces the corruption and instability
characteristic of so many postcolonial spaces and incarnates dreams, particularly
1
Emphasis added.
2
For a lengthy disussion of thingification and commodification in the context of postcolonial
literature, see Ania Loomba, Colonialism/Postcolonialism.
482
dreams of independence, turned rancid (Abani 2007: 97).
3
The topography of the
nightmarish landscape My Luck, the ironically named main protagonist, takes us
through is dotted with ghastly sights of countless corpses, mutilated people,
phantom soldiers, burning houses, desecrated churches and deserted villages. One of
the most striking aspects of the novella, its intentional vividness of horrifying detail
is finely balanced with visions of beauty and, surprisingly, hope.
The canoe becomes entangled in some lilies growing in a green and white
cluster, and though the tides are pulling at it, I know because the lilies are
nodding their white heads in time that the boat will not dislodge. The skeleton
sways back and forth with the boats motion and it makes me think of an
elaborate decoration on a Swiss clock. There is a cobweb between the bony
arm and the empty chest. It is beautiful and shimmers in a fading light. I
wonder how long this poor soul has been lost, even as I admire the cobweb,
thinking it reminds me of another time. Of the doilies and small caps I used to
crochet all those years ago. (Abani 2007: 76)
Seen from the perspective of someone exposed to the brutalities of death and
war from an early age, the world does not lose its peculiar appeal.
Long accustomed to ghastly images, My Luck confides to the reader at the very
onset of the story that it is a strange place to be at fifteen, bereft of hope and very
nearly of your humanity (Abani 2007: 19). Having joined the war at the age of
twelve, seeking revenge for the lost loved ones and with a clear enemy in mind, at
fifteen he is tired of the hate and is merely fighting to survive (Abani 2007: 19). He
sees through the world that exposed him to the real thing (Abani 2007: 31), which
he was hungry for, after ridiculous three-week training according to the rules of a
non-existent manual which the narrator prefers to think of as lost. With wooden guns
replaced by real weapons, loaded when there is ammunition, he and his smallest
fellows are chosen for the elite team of mine diffusers. Like Blakes chimney
sweepers, they are chosen not for their intelligence or skill but for their small size
that would apparently prevent them from setting off mines. To silence their death
screams, the superiors go a step further. I finger the scar on my throat that marks
the cut that ended my days of speech, says My Luck (Abani 2007: 20) revealing
that they are literally rendered voiceless and left to invent an unusual and highly
specific language of signs.
His inability to speak makes him better versed at the interior monologue
(Abani 2007: 21) and he engages in the most intimate communication with the
reader whom he grants access to his mind. The bond is strengthened by the fact that
his inner speech is in Igbo, though the written words are in English, exposing his
3
For a vivid depiction of the many failures of postindependent societies to rise to even the most
basic expectations of the former colonized, see for instance Jamaica Kincaids A Small Place and Caryl
Phillips A State of Independence and The Final Passage.
483
most atavistic, deepest self. Through My Lucks disillusioned eyes, the reader
witnesses a reality dominated by a distorted idea of humanity, in which nothing is
strange anymore (Abani 2007: 31).
His disarming honesty about war dealings and his own shameful role in them is
poised with indifference of tone, signaling the extent of his disenchantment. Seeing
vultures feeding on a macabre regatta of corpses (Abani 2007: 45), My Luck
simply scratches his belly, thinking of breakfast. On another occasion, the
naturalistic details of the consequences of mine explosions are related with
intimidating composure and matter-of-factness.
When a mine explodes, anyone directly on top will usually be killed. They
are lucky. For the rest, shrapnel tears off arms and legs and parts of faces.
Mines are like little jumping jackals. You step on one, they arm, you step off,
and they jump about mid-torso high and then explode, ripping you apart. For
us, the rebels, mines are as valuable as bullets. We have no generous
superpower sugar-daddies and we reuse every mine that we successfully
diffuse. Waste not want not. (Abani 2007: 47-48)
His impassive tone is in full sway in scenes like the one when he says good-bye
to his lover Ijeoma, whose name is yet another touch of irony as it means Good Life.
She no longer had any arms or legs and wasnt much more than a bloody
torso, lacerated by shrapnel, body parts scattered in a way that cannot be
explained or described. (Abani 2007: 54)
His and his fellow soldiers cold detachment, resulting from extreme exposure
to horrors which they too are forced to commit gradually perverts them to such an
extent that they are able to cheer at the snapping of old bones and the sigh of tired
flesh (Abani 2007: 28) during a killing and even feel the joy of a bullet tearing
through a body, the juicy suck of flesh around a bayonet, the grainy globular
disintegration brought on by clubs (Abani 2007: 143). When the young narrator is
forced to rape a woman, despite his reluctant consent and sobbing, a part of him
enjoys it. The woman comforts him and her tender words echo Blake as she sees in
him a boy lost (Abani 2007: 85). He may not be entirely lost, though, as he still
retches at the sight of a trains gruesome cargo of cadavers and feels fear in front of
people chopping dead bodies before burning them. The most important indicator of
his lingering humanity, however, is his feeling of guilt and shame.
He is hurt by the pleasure he took in rape and admits to being a coward, hiding
during his mothers agonizing murder,
4
or leaving his dying father alone like a dog.
The road to his redemption is also haunted by painful memories of the innocent
casualties among the many he has killed, as well as vivid scenes of torture and death
4
This particular scene bears striking resemblance to one in Caryl Phillips A Distant Shore.
484
in general. War has made him habituated to the pain and fears of others but not his
own. Like Coleridges ancient mariner, he is unable to rest, pray or cry for tears are
useless in his present ordeal. Rest will come as he gets closer to his aim.
It is small wonder that these children are hardened in a hypocritical world
where the worst among war criminals can say I am a civilized man (Abani 2007:
33) while the West sells land mines banned in civilized warfare to those it deems
inferior.
5
It is a world of mostly untrained soldiers fighting for causes not even they
can remember or even properly understand, suffering acceptable losses (Abani
2007: 49) and liberating their victims belongings, a world of extreme poverty and
madness, with people reduced to scavengers and thieves robbing even corpses of
their possessions. This blood-curdling setting allows for nothing sacred as little girls
named Faith are in danger of being raped, statues of Jesus are mutilated for firewood
and those of the Virgin used for shooting practice, while the kind are killed for
reminding us of the shits we are (Abani 2007: 111). In it, the measure of age and
maturity is neither pubic hair nor cigarettes and weapons but ones skill in interior
monologue (Abani 2007: 21).
My Luck truly does sound too old for his age when he contemplates his loss of
a sense of what innocence might mean and wonders whether man is ever truly
innocent. Like the children in Blakes Songs of Innocence and of Experience, he is
deprived of his boyhood, but he will never be a man, eithernot this way (Abani
2007: 143). Not all is lost, however, as the narrator and his friends are not entirely
immune to all monstrosities, some of which make them cry
6
while others induce fear
that they regard as a remnant of childishness. Even in the most bizarre scenes, they
are capable of recognizing beauty and the strength of hope. As he watches a group
of maimed creatures, pronounced dead through a slip of the gruesome mathematics
of war and now seen as ghosts or zombies, seeking refuge in the forest, My Luck
notices a disabled girl dancing in a circle.
Still balanced on one leg, her waist began a fierce gyration and her upper
body moved the opposite way. Then like a crazy heron, she began to hop
around, her waist and torso still shaking. She was an elemental force of nature.
I couldnt take my eyes off her. a small fire sprite shaking the world and
reducing war-hardened onlookers to tears. (Abani 2007: 51)
Here too, Abani employs an intricate fusion of the ghastly and the marvelous,
which is perhaps his most astounding achievement in this novella. In the midst of all
the suffering, the narrator and his platoon manage not to forget about love and play,
5
Such western images of Africa are condensed in the symbolical title of My Lucks French
textbook: French Afrique Book One: French Even Africans Can Speak. An elaborate discussion of
similar stereotypes can be found in Edward Saids Orientalism.
6
Like the Songs of Innocence and of Experience, Song for Night frequently echoes with the
sound of crying.
485
either. Having witnessed a nuns suicide, the platoon breaks into play, which
provides temporary relief as new horrors are always close at hand. One of the places
the narrator revisits is an oasis where for a brief moment they cease to be soldiers
and become teenagers again. The delicate portrayal of the idyll reverberates with
images of little Tom Dacres hopeful dream about the chimney sweepers release
from the burden of their grim realities.
7
Enjoying the time snatched from war, My
Luck and Ijeoma are making love with desperation tinged with the foreknowledge
of loss (Abani 2007: 58). Making love is their desperate attempt to make sure that
amongst all that horror, there was still love (Abani 2007: 86).
The stark contrast between childhood and enforced adulthood, love and hate,
lovemaking and rape, the beauty of life and the horror of death, all reflect the notion
of innocence abused by an evil which seems inherent. They are taught to kill but no
one teaches them to enjoy it and yet even these apparent innocents do (Abani 2007:
143). The idea of abused innocence is most powerfully conveyed, for instance, in the
parallel between the ominous clicking of a mine arming and the mechanism of a
childs toy or the description of the youngest boy in the platoon who is only seven or
eight and in his bedraggled clothes that are several sizes too big, he looks like a
scruffy elf. The .45 automatic he lugs around would be funny if it wasnt real
(Abani 2007: 131).
2. Other visions of compromised innocence
Another striking literary account of perverted innocence is gota Kristfs The
Notebook. The novel, part of a literary triptych, follows the transformation of a pair
of twins under the influence of wartime atmosphere. Forced to stay with their
grandmother who is not only reluctant to look after them but seems utterly devoid of
any emotion for the childrenthat being a singular lesson in the worlds brutality,
they grow up and grow numb to the pain around them. Left to their own devices,
they devise a system of exercises designed to make them stronger and better
equipped to deal with the world. Among them are exercises for strengthening the
body and the mind, exercises in begging or being deaf and blind, exercises in
starvation and cruelty. The world around them teaches them additional lessons in
experience such as poverty, blackmail, pedophilia, or killing, all of which inure them
to the suffering of people around them as well as their own.
Indifference of tone is driven to the extreme here as the twins become more and
more isolated and cold in their attempt to protect themselves. Their short,
fragmentary utterances, whose subject is always we, characteristic of Kristfs
terse style, give off a sense of alienation which denies even the slightest trace of
humanity or warmth and expose the world of experience in its most frightening
aspects. Like the children soldiers in Abanis novella, they too are forced to kill,
7
See Blakes poem The Chimney Sweeper from the Songs of Innocence.
486
which sometimes and from another point of view, might look like performing deeds
of mercy. Their vomiting when they see a pile of burnt corpses points to the
leftovers of fear and perhaps empathy in their hardened hearts, suggesting another
shared aspect of experience between them and the little soldiers in Song for Night.
Apart from a near total lack of humane feelings, a major difference between
Abanis work and that of gota Kristf is that she refrains from providing graphic
details of the horrors of war, except for the aforementioned pile. War remains in the
background as she focuses on its effects on the minds of its (innocent?) victims. The
unnamed (because any) twins are not soldiers in the unnamed (because any) war
though they too fight to survive. Their struggle leads the reader to the perplexing
end of The Notebook which gives hope and takes it away.
Hope is shattered in the sequels The Proof and The Third Lie, which expose the
aftermath of war in all its desolation. The prevailing sense is one of utter loneliness
in a world which provides no space for mercy and love. The two narrators merge
into oneClaus, whose anagramically named imaginary twin Lucas has been missing
for yearswhereby individual madness is introduced as a reflection of the collective,
societal insanity depicted in both Kristfs and Abanis work. Like Song for Night,
the fragmented structure of the trilogy walks the blurry line between reality and
imagination with the unreliable narrator being unable to distinguish between truth
and lie, mercy and brutality, or grasp the true nature of his journey in a setting where
no relationship is truly affectionate or satisfactory. Similarly, My Luck does not
fully comprehend where he is heading to but, despite being caught up in ambiguous
acts, he does not lose a sense of morality nor does his world deny the possibility of
positive outcomes. Rendering all hope abortive, Kristfs trilogy provides no relief.
A similar narrative is found in Serbian literature. The novel Top je bio vreo
(The Cannon Was Hot) by Vladimir Kecmanovi
8
is set in Sarajevo at the time of
the war in Bosnia. The impartial story is related from the perspective of a
shellshocked child muted by an explosion which leaves him orphaned. Like My
Luck, he allows the reader inside his mind but the air of intimacy is curiously
missing. The laconic sentences reminiscent of The Notebook resound with the same
impassiveness of tone that betrays a desperate desire on the part of the child to
survive in the sea of adult poison threatening to drown him. That he fails to remain
entirely immune to it the reader learns at the very end when the boy regains his
voicethe cigarette in his mouth a preposterous symbol of experienced manhood
and reveals his wish for the real thing.
8
A film based on the novel, dedicated to gota Kristf, among others, is about to be released
soon. Another interesting film dwelling on the theme of innocence lost in war is Turtles Can Fly by
Bahman Ghobadi.
487
3. The uncanny in Abanis ghost story
Unlike Song for Night, Kecmanovis narrative makes no use of the uncanny in
its portrayal of the loss of innocence. The further My Luck progresses on his way,
the easier it is for the reader to understand that the journey takes place somewhere
between the real and the supernatural. Not even the narrator can sometimes
distinguish between the two. It is precisely this feature of Abanis novella that brings
it closest to The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. The ghastly landscape of mangrove
swamps with leech-like creatures lurking in the dark and tree roots like fingers rising
above the shifting water levels is occasionally substituted by scenes of pillaged
villages and deserted towns populated only by rabid-looking scraggy dogs, with the
unbearable heat symbolizing the madness of war. He comes across burning houses
and piles of dead bodies, the streets and the river littered with corpses whose
numbers seem ever increasing, with clouds of flies taking the form of black-winged
angels. The yards that once resonated with laughter and gossip gave way to the
emptiness and desolation surrounded with soot-blackened walls
9
which host a
handful of hungry rats. The deserted football pitch is now a tropical Valhalla where
the restless and confused spirits of phantom soldiers relive their final battles. As
with the eerie atmosphere in the ancient mariners story, relief comes rarely, in the
form of quaint fishermens encampments on the river banks, revisited oases, or sleep
and rest which come more easily.
A sense that this is also a ghost story is heightened by a rising number of hints
suggesting that it is not so much a physical journey as one of the soul. Upon
regaining consciousness after the blast, My Luck sees no bodies around and his
platoon have forgotten to double check if he is dead. His cigarette pack never seems
to run out while he can endure without water for days on end.
10
He loses track of
time, his memories get mixed up and their chronology changes as the time between
them is shrinking. Memories of his elusive friends faces gradually fade and he
wonders what is keeping him marooned on a shifting sandbank. He finds no
evidence of the bombing he knows happened, he has not heard the sound of mortar
or shell fire for a long time and the landscape sometimes changes before his very
eyes. Tormented by dreams of lost relatives and friends, he wonders what it all
means as he realizes that things are off but he cant quite place why (Abani 2007:
58). The few people he meets mostly ignore him while those who do take notice
make a sign of the cross, shy away or shout tufia at him to chase away spirits. At
the sight of a dead lizard on a doorstep, symbol of rebirth, he comes to the
realization that for there to be a rebirth, someone has to die first.
11
9
Yet another Blakean reference to both The Chimney Sweeper and London where sighs run
in blood down palace walls.
10
His thirst being another allusion to the ancient mariner.
11
There is a number of other clues but this is perhaps enough to already spoil it all for those who
have not read the novella. One other clue is worth mentioning, however, as it leads back to Tom
Dacres dream. Along the way, My Luck loses his bag.
488
Driven by a vague but strong desire to cross the river, the narrator learns that he
needs to relive his memories and release his darkness before he can move on (Abani
2007: 104). All the while, the words of his grandfather, from whom he has learned
everything he knows, echo in his mind. In the course of his journey he comes to
interpret grandfathers stories and warnings about the river Cross and its macabre
flow. Since we all have to cross it some day (Abani 2007: 113), there is no way of
avoiding it, so the mythical river keeps flanking him. Grace, a strange woman he
meets towards the end, and a catechist called Peter, whose names require little
explanation, resolve My Luck of most of his ambiguities and help him cross to the
other side.
12
4. Conclusion
The loss of childhood and its significance is a recurrent theme in Abanis work.
His novella Becoming Abigail tells of the title protagonists premature introduction
in the world of experience in which the fourteen-year-old is brutally mistreated and
forced into prostitution. The harsh circumstances of her growing-up, childhood
being the one thing she never really had and yet truly needed (Abani 2006: 111),
may in fact echo the authors own experience of torture.
13
The inescapable social
dimension of Abanis works provides a backdrop for the authors exploration of the
human element, of characters that humble him as a person by not allowing the world
to break them (Kaufman 2006: 2). Even though My Lucks story confirms that
attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human
existence (Blake 1998: 74), and is intent on bringing out the most brutal and painful
facets of experience, the world is perhaps not well lost. Even with the knowledge
that there are some sins too big for even God to forgive, every night my sky is still
full of stars; a wonderful song for night (Abani 2007: 79).
References
Abani, C. (2006). Becoming Abigail. New York: Akashic Books.
Abani, C. (2007). Song for Night. New York: Akashic Books.
Blake, W. (1998). Selected Poetry. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press.
Blake, W. (1967). Songs of Innocence and of Experience. Oxford and New York:
Oxford University Press.
12
The ambiguous end of The Notebook sees one of the twins crossing over barbed wire to the
other side of the fence.
13
Before he left Nigeria, Abani had been imprisoned several times, his writings a potential threat
to the then regime, the first time when he was sixteen.
489
Curran, S. (1986). Poetic Form and British Romanticism. Oxford and New York:
Oxford University Press.
Kaufman, Z. (2006). Chris Abani: The Truthdig Interview. Available at:
http://www.truthdig.com/report/item/20060418_chris_abani_truthdig_intervie
w/. Retrieved on 18 February 2011.
Kecmanovi, V. (2008). Top je bio vreo. Beograd: Via print.
Kristf, . (2003). Velika sveska. Beograd: Paideia.
Said, E. (2003). Orientalism. London: Penguin Books.
Loomba, A. (2005). Colonialism/Postcolonialism. London and New York:
Routledge.
Watson, J. R. (1985). English Poetry of the Romantic Period 1789-1830. London
and New York: Longman.
490
Sergej Macura
Belgrade, Serbia
[email protected]
SOME CONCEPTIONS OF INCEPTION: WHAT CHRISTOPHER NOLAN
OWES TO JORGE LUIS BORGES
Abstract Following Seymour Chatmans observation that narrative itself is a deep
structure quite independent of its medium, we have analysed the recent film
Inception directed by Christopher Nolan and various shorter texts by the author of
perhaps the most condensed 20
th
-century fiction, J.L. Borges. The parallels can be
found in the crucial motif/structure of a dream, in which the real action is taking
place, the circularity of time, the obliteration of the dividing line between reality and
dreaming, especially during the transitions from the upper to the lower strata of the
dream, supported by a noticeably symmetric narrative framework. The principal
texts that could have influenced Nolan include Tln, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius, The
Circular Ruins, The Secret Miracle and The Garden of Forking Paths, which
exhibit the central Borgesian themes: the labyrinth, the mirror, the dream and the
voyage in time.
Key words: labyrinth, dream within a dream, mirror, forked narrative, circular
motion
1. A looming web of connections
Strange as it may seem, one of the highest-grossing blockbusters in film history
owes a sizeable cluster of fundamental ideas to a writer who, according to Jose
Contreras, used to sneak his first book of poetry into the coat-pocket of every
stranger that he met in his native city of Buenos Aires. In those years, Jorge Luis
Borges considered completely preposterous to sell his books and, even, to obtain
some money from them! Who would be interested in reading his writings, he asked
himself (Contreras 2010). In an interview with Dave Itzkoff, director Christopher
Nolan revealed his longtime interest in shooting a film about dreams, explaining the
pivotal idea: What Inception deals with is a science fiction concept in which really
only one simple thing has changed, which is that you and I are able to experience the
same dream at the same time. Once you remove the privacy, youve created an
infinite number of alternate universes in which people can meaningfully interact
(Itzkoff 2010). To the question: So who do you read in preparation to make a
movie like this? Freud? Philip K. Dick?, he provided a relatively cursory answer:
Probably Borges. Id like to think this is a movie he might enjoy. [Laughs] It
sounds like a highfalutin reference in some ways, but the truth is, he took these
491
incredibly bizarre philosophical concepts like a guy facing a firing squad who
wants more time to finish a story in his head, and hes granted more time by time
slowing down, as the bullet travels between the gun and him (Itzkoff 2010)
The Borges text that Nolan alludes to is the short story The Secret Miracle
(from the classic collection Fictions, 1944), and the guy facing a firing squad is
Jaromir Hladik, author of a couple of books on eternity and mysticism and of an
unfinished tragedy. The plot begins with a dream of a long game of chess, played by
two feuding families for centuries, with the dreamer running on the sands of a rainy
desert not being able to remember either the pieces or rules of chess. On awakening,
he realises that the Third Reich vanguard is occupying Prague, which soon results in
his arrest and sentence to death due to his Jewish origin; as a plot within the plot,
Borges brings up the topic of Hladiks uncompleted tragedy The Enemies, in which
a nineteenth-century baron (Roemerstadt) receives visitors, but he has an uncanny
feeling that they are sworn to eliminate him, led in all likelihood by a Jaroslav
Kubin, who in his madness claims to be the baron. The irregularities of the play
begin to proliferate, even the murdered conspirators return, the clock from Act I is
still striking seven in the evening in Act III. The collocutor from the first act
reappears and utters the same words he used in the beginning, which helps the
viewer understand that the man is not a double, but that the baron is actually the
insane Kubin. At the embedding level, Hladik has to undergo execution but in a
dream the voice of God grants him the required time to finish the play, causing the
physical universe to stop for a year the bullets were fired at the appointed time, but
the interval between the order and the execution was miraculously extended to a
year in the condemned mans perception. So he reworked the hexameters from
memory, and no sooner had he finished the piece than the salvo brought him down,
causing his death at two minutes after nine.
This long summary of the story in question was necessary for perhaps one
particular reason, i.e. the directors misinterpretation of Borgess text; as Radu
Toderici notes, the bullet does not travel between the gun and the character, but the
scenes freeze before anyone manages to fire a single bullet. True, they freeze just
before shooting, but no way after. [] This image of the bullet gradually getting
close to its target eloquently speaks about how much Nolan is a child of his time,
because it was abundantly used in action movies of the 80s and 90s (Toderici
2010). On the other hand, the similarities between Dominic Cobbs dream sequences
opening and closing Inception and the desert motif from the first page of the short
story, as well as those between Roemerstadts paranoid delusions and Saitos
projections of his guards followed by the arrival of the destined murderer can hardly
pass unnoticed. The initial impetus for the creative process can be found in a
different art form, from where it may be grafted on another mode of expression,
assume the shape the means of expression allows it to have, thus leaving the critic to
introduce a set of hypotheses resting on a general idea of the connecting tissue or
core idea relating the two works.
492
2. Transcendental narrativity
When we deal with thematic links between literature and film, with topoi in
works of art produced in different centuries, and compare an author whose works are
as encyclopaedic as those of Borges and a film whose plot is in a large part not
verbally presented but furnished with direct iconic signs, where a labyrinth means a
labyrinth because we can actually see its physical construction, it is all too easy to
make an error of overinterpretation and see traces of Borges where the director need
not have intended them to exist in the first place. Apart from many other influences,
cinematic and literary alike, Nolan did unmistakably single out Borges as one of the
main sources of inspiration: Ive always got a lot out of reading his short stories
and his approach to paradox (Howell 2010). The two artists common interest in
dreams is further corroborated by Nolans identification of the idea informing the
movie: Ive been interested in dreams since I was a kid and Ive wanted to do a film
about them for a long time (Hiscock 2010). In a way, the directors frank admission
helped create his own role model, to which we could apply Borgess own logic from
Kafka and His Precursors: The poem Fears and Scruples by Robert Browning
prophesies the work of Kafka, but our reading of Kafka noticeably refines and
diverts our reading of the poem (Borges 2001: 365). The ungraspable fabric of the
dream as a motif a commonplace remark can transcend time and space, but
Borges specified it more memorably, discussing the palace of Kubla Khan and its
verbal counterpart in Coleridge: A Mongolian emperor, in the thirteenth century,
dreams a palace and builds it according to his vision; in the eighteenth century, an
English poet, who could not have known that this construction was derived from a
dream, dreams a poem about a palace (Borges 2001: 371). Indeed, having these two
brilliant, but necessarily speculative references at hand does not make firm ground
for a viable scholarly hypothesis, but Nolans explicit statements only add up to
Borgess lucid, inductive intuition in seeking undeniable connections between
various shapes in which one and the same idea recurs.
While analysing the properties of narrative on a comic strip example, Seymour
Chatman gives the reader the possibility of verbalising the story, from which we
take only the last portion for brevitys sake: He [the king] pawned his crown for a
bundle of money so that he could go back to the Royal Casino to gamble some more.
He italicises the text because he considers those sentences to be abstract narrative
statements. In his technical sense of the word, story exists only at an abstract level,
and there is no privileged manifestation (Chatman 1980: 37). The events in a story
are turned into a plot by its discourse, the modus of presentation. The discourse can
be manifested in various media, but it has an internal structure qualitatively different
from any one of its possible manifestations. Plot, story-as-discoursed, exists at a
more general level than any particular objectification, any given movie, novel or
whatever (Chatman 1980: 43). A major difference between cinema and literature lies
in the fact that story-space in cinema is literal, that is, objects, dimensions and
relations are analogous, at least two-dimensionally, to those in the real world. In
493
verbal narrative it is abstract, requiring a reconstruction in the mind (Chatman
1980: 96-97). Finding connections between Inception and Borgess fiction could
become an inordinately long catalogue of relations if we related every existent and
every occasional piece of dcor in his short stories to any visual representation of the
same in Nolans work, but having in mind that about four-fifths of the film takes
place within designed dreams, this basic story-space owes its origin in part to the
Argentine author, whose own poetry and fiction abound in this topos, making it a
tenable gateway to a parallel universe.
3. Nolan's modelling of the Borgesian themes
One of the possible access points for a comparative analysis of Inception and
Borges is the short story Tln, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius, revolving around an
accidental discovery of a uniquely printed encyclopaedic article on the little known
Near Eastern country of Uqbar, whose poets in turn treat only the subject of an
imaginary land named Tln; subsequent to this discovery, the narrator comes into
possession of the eleventh volume of A First Encyclopeadia of Tln, which brings
his associates to a conclusion that the intricate world of Tln was invented by a
secret society of astronomers, biologists, engineers, metaphysicians, poets, chemists,
etc., and has its intimate, provisionally formulated laws. For the nations of Tln, the
world is not a concourse of objects in space, but a heterogenous series of
independent acts. It is successive and temporal, not spatial (Borges 2000: 30-32).
The world of the dream in Inception is also the product of an extremely versatile
company of experts, but they act as high-tech thieves of vital information from their
targets minds while the conscious guard is lowered and more liable to deception.
Film viewers may notice that the dream worlds complexity and notably different
physical laws share a lot with the universe that Borges's story models. Further on,
the theme of disintegrating belief in this world can be found both in the short story
and in the film; after an increasing number of intrusions of objects from Tln into
our reality, already a fictitious past occupies in our memories the place of another,
a past of which we know nothing with certainty not even that it is false (Borges
2000: 42-43). In the film, Cobb, the agent most skilled in data extraction from
dreams, is prohibited from returning to the US because his wife Mal committed
suicide, accusing him of homicidal intentions; her main problem centred on the
illusion that had become reality in the proces of exploring the dream within a dream,
for which we have ample evidence in the film. The dream worlds bottom is called
limbo, a raw, infinite subconscious, where ten hours sleeping time can easily be
perceived as fifty years. To wake again, the dreamers need to kill themselves, which
they do on a railway track. Cobb later explains the problem to the architect of the
new simulated world, Ariadne: She was possessed by an idea. This one very simple
idea that changed everything. That our world wasnt real. That she needed to wake
up to come back to reality...that in order to get back home...we had to kill ourselves
(Minute Mark 77:48-78:12). The totem which every dreamer builds to their own
494
taste and specifications has a practical purpose of assuring them that they are not
within another persons dream at the moment, as Arthur (a demolition expert, who
makes dream level changes possible) warns Ariadne: That way, when you look at
your totem, you know beyond a doubt that youre not in someone elses dream
(MM 34:11-34:17). Mal had used a spinning top which Cobb discovered locked
away in a safe while living in limbo, and strangely enough, that very top found its
way to the real-world setting of their hotel suite on the wedding anniversary, the
scene of Mals suicide; Borgess story mentions two intrusions of Tln into
everyday experience: a mysteriously vibrating compass and a bright metallic cone
that had a small size and intolerable weight (Borges 2000: 40-41). In the first scene
of the film, considered by many to be a suspense-filled flashforward, Cobb is
brought by guards to a Japanese-style palace, where on seeing the younger mans
top, an old man with a strikingly wrinkled face begins his monologue: I know what
this is. I've seen one before, many, many years ago. It belonged to a man I met in a
half-remembered dream. A man possessed of some radical notions (MM 02:09-
02:42). When the scene repeats very near the end of the film, this time with a
different arrangement of replicas, we become aware that the old man is Cobbs
client Saito, a Japanese businessman who accompanied the team to the dream world
and fell into limbo to him, reality had all but turned into oblivion, which inversion
also happened to Mal in the storyline. The order of the fictitious world succeeded in
outweighing the disorder of the real world, in Tln and Inception alike, all the
more so if we abstract the mimetic medium and focus on the exquisitely intricate
maze as a governing idea.
The principle of the labyrinth, albeit in its more cerebral and subtle
representations, can be found in both Borges and Nolan; the narrator of the short
story under scrutiny acknowledges that reality soon yielded to finds from Tln,
since the semblance of order was sufficient to entrance the minds of men: How
could one do other than submit to Tln, to the minute and vast evidence of an
orderly planet? It is useless to answer that reality is also orderly. [] Tln is surely
a labyrinth, but it is a labyrinth devised by men, a labyrinth destined to be
deciphered by men (Borges 2000: 42). While in a training session of shared
dreams, Ariadne learns the secrets of maze building from Arthur: [Ariadne] But
how big do these levels have to be? [Arthur] It could be anything from the floor of
a building to an entire city. They have to be complicated enough that we can hide
from the projections. A maze? Right, a maze. And the better the maze... Then
the longer we have before the projections catch us? Exactly (MM 40:25-40:41).
The next short story which could be treated as a partial source of Nolans ideas
is The Circular Ruins, about a silent man who disembarks on the river bank
somewhere in the Near East long before Christ, settles in a ruined temple, and
resolutely begins to dream a man: He wanted to dream a man: he wanted to dream
him with minute integrity and insert him into reality (Borges 2000: 73). Leaving
apart Cobbs extraordinary ability to build dreams within dreams as traps for even
the trained subjects, he also has a compelling wish that he yearns to see fulfilled
the return to his children, whom he always dreams of with their backs turned, as he
495
may have forgotten what they now look like. Although he expressly forbids Ariadne
to dream of real places so as not to lose the grasp on reality, he has in fact built a
world of memories to which he returns every night, keeping company with his
deceased wife. When Ariadne notices this anomaly, because Mals projection tends
to frustrate his plans for extracting information, she asks Cobb: Why do you do this
to yourself? and he answers: Its the only way I can still dream. Why is it so
important to dream? In my dreams were still together (MM 56:02-56:14). In the
story, a psychologically explicable phenomenon goes on steadily for a number of
nights in the strangers dreams, as he dreamt that he was in the centre of a circular
amphitheatre which in some ways was the burned temple (Borges 2000: 73), since
the external stimuli can indeed influence the mechanism of the dream by way of
analogy: while Cobb is struggling to escape with vital information at the lower level
shortly after the film opens, one of his associates at the higher dream level gives him
a slap to wake him up, which results in his being tossed to and fro down below,
followed by an overwhelming tumult of sea water rushing into the palace below
while Cobb is struggling to get out of a bathtub above (MM 10:25-11:22). Dreaming
regularly can assume the form of addiction, as it has been evident with Cobb, but not
only with him when the team members go to Mombasa to find the capable chemist
who can make the sedative for the dreamers to sleep through three levels, they
witness a dozen sleepers in the basement. They sleep for 4 hours a day and
experience 40 hours, which the chemists assistant explains: They come to be
woken up. The dream has become their reality (MM 43:20-43:30). In the story,
after many nights filled with deliberate dreaming, the protagonist of The Circular
Ruins becomes slightly disappointed with the lack of activity among his imaginary
students in the amphitheatre, and one afternoon (now his afternoons too were
tributaries of sleep, now he remained awake only for a couple of hours at dawn) he
dismissed the vast illusory college for ever and kept one single student (Borges
2000: 73-74). The convention of substituting night for day, or as it appears in these
plots, dream for reality, occurs in both authors, more prominently in Nolans film
than in Borgess stories. When the magician in the story finally succeeds in giving
birth to his dream child, he sends the boy downstream to another broken temple,
instilling into him a complete oblivion of the years of imaginary communion. He
soon receives word of a magic man in a temple of the North who could walk upon
fire and not be burned. He recalled that, of all the creatures of the world, fire was the
only one that knew his son was a phantom. [] He feared his son might meditate on
his abnormal privilege and discover in some way that his condition was that of a
mere image (Borges 2000: 77). Soon after this, a quick fire descends on the
sanctuary, and the man decides to walk into the shreds of flame and put an end to his
labours: But they did not bite into his flesh, they caressed him and engulfed him
without heat or combustion. With relief, with humiliation, with terror, he understood
that he too was a mere appearance, dreamt by another (Borges 2000: 77). One of
Cobbs most efficient dream extracting techniques consists in building multiple
dream levels, so that the subject could lay bare their subconscious secrets by
thinking the end of a dream signifies the return to reality in fact, the first
496
embedded dream in the film brings Saito to a fleeting triumphant conclusion that he
has woken up, but he soon understands (through the architects error) that he is just a
dreamed projection of somebody else. The central mission in Inception has to do
with the process of planting an idea into the mind of Saitos main competitor to
dissolve his financial empire after his fathers death; to make all that take firm root
in his mind, Cobb orchestrates a three-level dream, with some intrusions even into
limbo below, where the mind can easily succumb to oblivion. The subject, like
Borgess invented boy, should ideally never notice any irregularity in the dream
matrix, but occasionally it happens for example, Saito senses the material of his
carpet to be false, sudden shifts in gravity of the fictitious world occur more than
once, just as the magicians son in the story might some day think it odd to be able
to walk upon fire and thus realise he is in a dream.
There has been a lot of discussion of the very last scene of the film,
1
when
Cobb returns home and spins his top to see whether he is still dreaming. If it
tumbles, he can be positive that he came back to reality and, to many spectators
surprise, he does not even bother to look at the result, as the image fades out and we
can hear a wobbling, but by no means the conclusive sound of the top falling. That
event prompted quite a few viewers to accept the hypothesis that he is still dreaming,
and that virtually the entire film takes place in a dream, but Michael Caine (the
architecture professor who taught Cobb to move around dreams) solved the puzzle
unequivocally in a BBC Radio interview: [The spinning top] drops at the end,
thats when I come back on. If Im there its real, because Im never in the dream.
Im the guy who invented the dream (Hannaford 2010). Taking this cue, we can
rest assured that at least in certain sections of the film fantasy is still contained by a
perceptible reality, but dreams dominate the films texture plentifully.
The film also lends itself to being compared with another seminal short story,
The Garden of Forking Paths, which treats Yu Tsun, a Chinese professor of
English who became a German spy on English territory and possessed the name of
the exact location of the new British artillery park on the River Ancre (Borges
2000: 45). In order to communicate the name, he finds a paradoxical manner of
expressing it he goes to a nearby village and pays a visit to Sinologist Stephen
Albert, whom he murders and makes the name Albert evident to his employers as
the intended military target. When Albert receives him, he wants to show Yu Tsun a
particular garden, which the Chineses ancestor Tsui Pn devised long before, when
he renounced his position as governor and scholar to build a labyrinth for over a
decade. On his death, the relatives discovered nothing but chaotic manuscripts, but
they were actually the intended labyrinth of symbols, an invisible labyrinth of
time, upon which nobody came in space. The author left a confusing note: I leave
1
The Google query Inception ending offers an array of hundreds of websites, from which we
can select these: http://www.inceptionending.com/theory/imdb-faq-for-inception/,
http://marquee.blogs.cnn.com/2010/12/02/christopher-nolan-talks-inceptions-ending/ and
http://www.dvdtown.com/messageboard/topic/9784/1/0.
497
to the various futures (not to all) my garden of forking paths (Borges 2000: 50,
original italics). The phrase the various futures suggests the forking in time, which
also happens in Inception at a number of places, constructed more evidently through
image sequences than by means of the written medium: the first scene
(flashforward) where Cobb meets Saito in limbo features only the latters speech,
while the former keeps quiet all along, but in the second version (MM 135:32-
137:17) they exchange some bits of conversation which are not aligned exactly as in
the opening, so now Saito says: Have you come to kill me? Im waiting for
someone. Cobb speaks for the first time in this interior, uttering Saitos words from
scene 1: Someone from a half-remembered dream, surprising Saito: Cobb?
Impossible. We were young men together. Im an old man. Cobb takes his turn,
saying what the Japanese exhortatively told him in reality at MM 21:13-21:24:
Filled with regret [Saito] waiting to die alone? Certain fragments of
language occur in the same or nearly the same form under different circumstances,
pointing to the vicious circle of the labyrinth, causing the perception of plot to fork
in time, as the words are spoken in real life or in dreams, in chronological or
discursive order (as they really happened or were edited), by the original actants or
by new ones. Before committing suicide in limbo together, Cobb soothed Mal by
saying youre waiting for a train, a train that will take you far away, which is
the very phrase she uses to allure him to repeat the action in real life, and a riddle
she entices Ariadne with in a dream. The complex dream is another model of the
labyrinth, just as the novel in Borgess text is the sought-for garden. As the story has
it: In the work of Tsui Pn, all possible outcomes occur; each one is the point of
departure for other forkings. Sometimes, the paths of the labyrinth converge: for
example, you arrive at this house, but in one of the possible pasts you are my enemy,
in another, my friend (Borges 2000: 51). While the films main action is unfolding,
anything can happen at the dream levels and cause the future to diverge into
unpredictable directions Saito gets wounded at level one, which makes him fall
into limbo, and is saved by Cobb eventually. The Sinologists claim that an infinite
book can only be of circular form, continuing indefinitely due to its last page being
identical with the first, concurs smoothly with the almost identical scene opening
and closing the film. Perhaps it is inaccurate to say almost, but whereas in the first
version Cobb yearns to reach out to his children playing on the beach, by the time he
is seen waking on the shore again, he has firmly resolved that his children are
merely projections.
The idea-planting team from the film needs the subject to accept the desired
command naturally, with no coercion, just like in the story Yu Tsun has to
communicate the target to his commanders indirectly; the Chinese text treats the
problem of time, but never mentions the noun, and Albert leads Yu Tsun to the
answer: In a riddle whose answer is chess, what is the only prohibited word? I
thought a moment and replied, The word chess. Precisely, said Albert. The
Garden of Forking Paths is an enormous riddle, or parable, whose theme is time;
this recondite cause prohibits its mention. To omit a word always, to resort to inept
498
metaphors and obvious periphrases, is perhaps the most emphatic way of stressing
it (Borges 2000: 53). After the audition (the test of Cobbs ability), Arthur tries to
explain to Saito the impossibility of inception (planting an idea in somebodys mind)
in similar phrasing: I say, Dont think about elephants. What are you thinking
about? Elephants. Right. But its not your idea because you know I gave it to
you. The subjects mind can always trace the genesis of the idea (MM 19:36-
19:47). In both works the key concept is intimated through a complicated process of
deploying a batch of associated concepts around it, i.e. by constructing a favourable
environment to conduce to the solution.
The new architect of the dream world, Ariadne, bears a name as identifiable as
is Stephen Dedaluss surname so attached is this name to the classical story that
we might even consider it an aptronym separate from the other names, which belong
in a less collectively familiar category. It occurs in the short story The House of
Asterion, but only at the end, since the action is mostly communicated through the
defamiliarised confession of the Minotaur; in the last paragraph, the narration shifts
to the Greek hero: Would you believe it, Ariadne? said Theseus. The Minotaur
scarcely defended himself (Borges 2000: 172). To test her architectural skills, Cobb
gives her the assignment to draw a maze in two minutes that it takes one minute to
solve. After two unsuccessful attempts with common rectangular labyrinths, Ariadne
draws a circular maze, which Cobb finds impossible to solve in the appointed time.
(MM 25:11-25:45) To list all Borgess works which treat circularity would be a
demanding task, as the circle can be readily found in much of his fiction or non-
fiction: The Circular Ruins, The Library of Babel, The Doctrine of Cycles,
Circular Time, etc. A careful reader would hardly fail to notice the topos of the
mirror appearing in some scenes where Ariadne is featured: in a training session, she
manages to change the topography of Paris so dramatically that certain blocks of
flats fold in and mirror the buildings below spot-on, calling M.C. Eschers prints to
mind. In the following scene, she and Cobb come to a bridge where she constructs a
mirror hinged on a column, walks to the adjacent column, and turns the other mirror
so that it faces the former, making an infinity of images of Cobb and herself (MM
29:50-32:27). Borges gave a series of lectures (Seven Nights) in 1977, one of which
was entitled Nightmares, and discussed two forms that he found typical of his
case: the labyrinth and the mirror. Among other things, he said of those phenomena:
Let us enter into the nightmare, into nightmares. Mine are always the same. I have
two nightmares which often become confused with one another. I have the
nightmare of the labyrinth. [] My other nightmare is that of the mirror. The two
are not distinct, as it only takes two facing mirrors to construct a labyrinth (Borges
1984: 32-33). If there is a single scene in Inception that draws on Borgess oeuvre
for inspiration, this should be the most likely candidate to confirm the hypothesis
it is sufficiently cerebral, mythological, labyrinthine and multiplied.
499
4. Conclusion
This article does not aim to be an exhaustive and definitive analysis of Jorge
Luis Borgess direct influences on Christopher Nolan, but rather a survey of certain
techniques that the writer recurrently exploited in his works, which turned into his
trademark, leaving an indelible trace on the film discussed; the director of such a
complex spectacle is naturally expected to have taken greater care of the cinematic
rather than verbal art, of editing a clever summertime thriller rather than copying
Borgess lucid logic verbatim from the Argentines evanescent and uneventful
universes of the library (or libraries of the universe, which to him had the same
meaning). James E. Irby summarised Borgess crucial themes in his introduction to
Labyrinths: Borges once claimed that the basic devices of all fantastic literature are
only four in number the work within the work, the contamination of reality by
dream, the voyage in time and the double (Irby 2000: 18). With the possible lower
frequency of the last topos, all the others have numerous manifestations and form
the ubiquitous forking paths of this refreshing and demanding celluloid adventure.
References
Borges, J. L. (1984). Seven Nights. Ed. Eliot Weinberger. New York: New
Directions.
Borges, J. L. (2000). Labyrinths: Selected Stories and Other Writings. Eds. D.A.
Yates and J.E. Irby. London: Penguin.
Borges, J. L. (2001). The Total Library: Non-Fiction 1922-1986. Ed. Eliot
Weinberger. London: Penguin.
Chatman, S. (1980). Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film.
Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press.
Contreras, J. (2010). Inception and Jorge Luis Borges. Available at:
http://www.examiner.com/latin-cinema-in-national/inception-and-jorge-luis-
borges-4. Retrieved on: 7 March 2011.
Hannaford. K. (2010). Inception Ending Revealed by Sir Michael Caine.
Available at: http://gizmodo.com/5651826/inception-ending-revealed-by-sir-
michael-caine. Retrieved on: 5 February 2011.
Hiscock, J. (2010). Inception: Christopher Nolan Interview. Available at:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/filmmakersonfilm/7866677/Inception-
Christopher-Nolan-interview.html. Retrieved on: 24 January 2011.
Howell, P. (2010). Relax and Enjoy the Ride, Inception Director Says. Available
at: http://www.thestar.com/article/836236--howell-relax-and-enjoy-the-ride-
inception-director-says. Retrieved on: 14 March 2011.
Irby, J. E. (2000). Introduction. In: J.L. Borges. Labyrinths: Selected Stories and
Other Writings. London: Penguin, 15-23.
500
Itzkoff, D. (2010). A Man and His Dream: Christopher Nolan and Inception.
Available at: http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/30/a-man-and-his-
dream-christopher-nolan-and-inception/. Retrieved on: 21 February 2011.
Nolan, C. (dir.). (2010). Inception. Perfs. Leonardo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt,
Ellen Page. Warner Bros. Pictures.
Toderici, R. (2010). Images in Slow-Motion: Christopher Nolan, Inception.
Available at: http://www.artactmagazine.ro/images-in-slow-motion-
christopher-nolan,-inception.html. Retrieved on: 3 March 2011.
501
Aleksandra Mari
Belgrade, Serbia
[email protected]
MY PHONY ROLE AS HUSBAND AND FATHER: PERFORMING
MASCULINITIES IN DON DELILLO'S UNDERWORLD
Abstract Discussing the ways in which masculinities are acted out in the central and
parallel plots of Don DeLillos Underworld, this paper tries to explore a wide range
of presented masculine psychologies, showing that these roles are largely developed
as constructs of the changeable socio-cultural setting of post World War II America.
The characters in Underworld, especially men, are all too aware that they must
perform the fixed parts well if they are to be accepted as a good parent, lover, child,
colleague and friend, and they feel incompetent and ill-at-ease as they come to
realize that they can never fully comply with the imposed ideals.
Key words: masculinity, performance, fantasy, anxiety, manliness, imitation,
repression
1. Introduction
According to Judith Butler, gender is always assumed in relation to the ideals
that are never quite inhabited by anyone, it is an imaginary identification based on
fantasy (Butler 1995: 32). Don DeLillo, one of the most praised American authors,
seems to be particularly sensitive to this phantasmagoric construction of gender
identity. Indeed, in a number of his novels both male and female characters have
problems conforming to the normative heterosexual masculinities and femininities,
the dominant fantasies of manhood and womanhood, which they find rather
repressive and confining, as we learn from long introspective paragraphs. Strangely
enough, what is evident is their struggle to live up to these roles, since most of the
characters are anxious to keep up the appearances of being a real woman or a
real man, so they act like ones. However, this performance and repetition of
stereotypical patterns of behavior rarely prove to bring satisfactory results.
DeLillos Underworld, which was deemed the second best work of postmodern
American fiction in the past twenty-five years by The New York Times, is
particularly rewarding in this respect. The readers learn very early in the novel that
there is a law of manly conduct (DeLillo 1999: 22) in Underworld, and this paper
primarily focuses on masculine psychologies in the novel, on how male characters
cope with the socially constructed ideals or hegemonic masculinities. However, as
ideas of manhood change, today masculinity is perceived as a social construction
that assumes different forms in different historical moments and contexts (Nylund
502
2007: 5). DeLillos Underworld, which roughly covers the second half of the 20
th
century in the USA, presents the readers with shifting ideas of masculinity: with the
macho ideal of the 50s, the confusion brought by the civil rights and gay liberation
movements in the 60s and 70s, and finally, the creation of new man and new
lad in the 80s and 90s (Nylund 2007: 9).
1
2. What makes a real man
Underworld presents a myriad of different characters, but it could be described
as somewhat centered around the character of Nick Shay, whose storyline involves
practically everyone elses. Nicks life story is quite simple and indicative of these
changing ideas of manhood he was born in the Bronx in a mixed family between
an Irish mother and Italian father who committed the unthinkable Italian crime
(DeLillo 1999: 204) when he left his wife and children. Nick grew up to be the most
handsome and desirable young man in the neighborhood, prone to petty crime and
random sexual encounters with women, one of whom was many years his senior.
Then, when he was in his late teens, he accidentally murdered a man, which haunts
him through much of the novel together with thoughts about the missing father.
Finally, he went to correction, finished Jesuit school, became an executive manager,
got married and had two children. Thus, the mentioned changes in the perception of
masculinity in the 20
th
century can also be seen in the development of the character
of Nick Shay, who grows from a macho juvenile delinquent from the 50s into an
executive manager, married with two children in the 90s.
Moreover, the idea of manhood as a socially imposed construction can also be
recognized in some scenes with historical personages from the subplots, like in those
featuring J. Edgar Hoover and Clyde Tolson, showing that hypermasculinity often
goes hand in hand with homosexuality in deeply conservative regimes like that of
the USA at the time of the Cold War. In Underworld both Edgar and Clyde are
shown as intent on hunting down, exposing and severely punishing all non-
straight citizens of the USA. However, the relationship between these two
characters is dubious and whereas Clyde is presented as burning with desire for
Edgar, the latter never openly declares himself a homosexual, but it is clear that the
two men are very close - they not only work together, but even travel and attend
social events in each others company. In these parts of the novel DeLillo might
have mocked the rumors about two of the most powerful men of the USA and the
fact that this type of male bonding outside pubs and sports events immediately
plants suspicion that there must be something wrong with the two of them. In any
case, the novel presents Clyde as a really tragic figure of his time, doomed to
1
Whereas the new man accepts new commitments to fatherhood and household, the new
lad is a reaction to new man and tries to reassert hegemonic masculinity by preferring to drink,
party and watch sports, viewing women as sexual objects (Nylund 2007: 9).
503
perform the stereotypical role of a tough guy and imitate the patterns of typical
manly behavior, without even dreaming of fulfilling his desires and fantasies one
day.
However, despite the wide range of presented masculine psychologies, both
heterosexual and homosexual male characters appear to show some common
anxieties and fears concerning masculinity and their performance throughout the
novel. The typical role they are expected to play at all times is that of a successful,
powerful and sexually apt provider interested in manly things such as sports, cars
and weapons. A real man is a reliable husband and father with a nine-to-five job,
in perfect control of his emotions, which he is never to display. Indeed, in the USA
men have long been defined through the typical role of a family provider, a
breadwinner. However, according to Ruth Heyler, Nick Shay believes that this
ideal of working ethic is somewhat false and restricting (Heyler 2008: 126), Nick
didnt think it was necessary to have one job for life and start a family and live in a
house with dinner on the table at six every night (DeLillo 1999: 724), or when he
says, Its not the work. Its the regular hours () the same time every day.
Clocking in, taking the train () Going in together, coming home together
(DeLillo 1999: 685). Similarly, Nicks brother Matt feels immense relief when he
quits his job in the weapons industry to become closer to his family, something one
would traditionally expect the wife and mother to do, He wasnt made for this kind
of work () No, he wasnt a weaponer. (DeLillo 1999: 461) Indeed, this
hegemonic masculinity is seen as restricting since, according to Judith Kegan
Gardiner, it narrows the options of the male characters by forcing them into
confining roles and all this is coupled with a humiliating fear of failure to live up to
the masculinity mark (Kegan Gardiner 2002: 5-6). However, whereas Matt decides
to quit the job, Nicks wishes for a commitment-free life linger in the domain of
fantasy, and in the novel only a couple of characters are willing to give up the
reputation of a real man in exchange for what they consider to be true happiness.
As it appears, a number of male characters find it difficult to perform the
imposed masculine identity, which frequently results in feelings of inadequacy and
failure. Most of the time they strive to appear manly (Heyler 2008: 126), like
Nicks colleague Brian, who expresses a hypermasculine love for cars, Brian went
into a state of body rapture over a lime Chevrolet, a 57 Bel Air convertible with
white upholstery. He draped himself over the hood and pretended to lick the hot
metal. (DeLillo 1999: 165). However, even if one is not as fascinated by cars as
Brian, one is supposed to pretend to be so, to play or mimic the real man. For
example, at one point in the novel we learn that Nicks brother Matt did not like to
drive. Hed been driving only six months and knew hed never feel natural at the
wheel. The best he could do was mimic a driver. (DeLillo 1999: 409). On many
instances in the novel we see him as he drives his car holding the instructions
booklet in his lap, and yet he is reluctant to give up the drivers seat to his wife who
liked to drive aggressively whatever the surface. (DeLillo 1999: 455).
504
3. A demon husband
Another aspect of a manly man is his sexual ever-readiness, and Nick, when
presented as a young man, is one of many DeLillos protagonists who constantly
feel the need to display their sexual power. In his youth, Nick is an ever-ready
male whom everyone admires, a macho who does what most of his neighbors only
fantasize about. Whos better than him? is the comment other characters make
when they see him. Even later in life, Nick is envied his physical strength, savvy,
position and allure by his colleague Brian Glassic. In effect, this type of male envy
is common according to Ethel Specter Person, as a man feels sexual anxiety
believing that other men are actually living what for him are only fantasies
(Specter Person 2009: 17), and in case of Underworld, Nick is looked up to as a
demon husband (not in the sense of evil, but possessing immense sexual,
intellectual and physical power) both by his wife and her lover Brian, Nicks
colleague, who believe he has tremendous strength and a will of steel.
Nevertheless, Nick does not really feel the way one would expect from a
demon husband when he finds out about his wifes affair with his colleague and
friend Brian. Quite the opposite, he feels relieved rather than betrayed,
When I found out about him and Marian I felt some element of
stoic surrender () I was hereby relieved of my phony role as
husband and father, high corporate officer. Because even the job is an
artificial limb. But it was also satisfying, for just a moment, to think
of giving it all up () the children () the grandchild, they could
keep the two houses, all the cars, he could have both wives () None
of it ever belonged to me except in the sense that I filled out the
forms (DeLillo 1999: 796)
Evidently, Nick is completely aware of the artificiality of the roles he is to
perform,
2
and he sees marriage, children, the job and his social position as a burden,
something artificial attached to him, and often fantasizes about his past freedom.
This should come as no surprise, as according to Tim Edwards men often perceive
themselves as machines that perform functions rather than as human beings who
need care and attention. (Edwards 2006: 12). So, there is no jealousy or anger on his
part. However, as it has already been stated, it is vital that a man keep up the
appearances of manly behavior, so Nick knows he is expected to deal with the
2
John Updike has criticised DeLillo for being "a concept-driven writer, whose characters spout
smart, swift essays at one another" (Updike 2003). In other words, unlike Updikes characters like
Harry Armstrong, who is only remotely, intuitively aware of the constraining roles he is to perform
(Dojinovi Nei 2007: 132), DeLillos male characters are very much self-aware, almost to the point
of artificiality.
505
adultery like a man
3
and challenge Brian on a sort of a duel. Strangely enough, the
violence displayed in the scenes where Nick archetypically fights with Brian to
restore his wifes honor is performed, Nick delays before he attacks him, clearly
reluctant to start a fight. There are rehearsed blows, overreaction, these are token
blows, and according to Ruth Heyler, the violent act here is only part of the
performance (Heyler 2008: 134).
4
4. Filling in the blank spaces
Fatherhood is another important issue in this novel, especially the connection
between fathers and sons, since fathers are seen as role-models, they are expected to
teach their sons masculinity, the mentioned law of manly conduct. Contrary to
this, Nicks missing father, who went out for cigarettes and just kept walking
(DeLillo 1999: 698) is the reverse of a role model, something not to imitate
(Heyler 2008: 127). Matt says, He left because of us basically. He didnt want to be
a father. Being a husband was bad enough, you know, what a burden, full of
obligations and occasions he couldnt handle. (DeLillo 1999: 203) So, in order not
to behave like his father, Nick tries to do everything his father failed to do, to be a
loving, reliable husband and parent, and yet he struggles to accept these roles as
natural. Strangely enough, despite trying to be the reverse of his father, Nick still
perceives himself as a country of one (DeLillo 1999: 275) even later in life,
feeling the role of a husband and father to be constraining, and indulges in fantasies
of becoming a free young man again, I long for the days of disarray () I long for
the days of disorder (806-10).
In the novel Nicks father remains a void (Heyler 2008: 127), a man whose
narrative is mostly blank spaces, date of birth uncertain, a ghost father (DeLillo
1999: 276-7), the missing heartbeat (DeLillo 1999: 700). Of course, mere
presence does not account for a father, and Underworld features another missing
father figure in the subplot, that of Manx Martin. Unlike Nicks father Jimmy
Constanza, the lapsed husband who is always remembered as walking out of his
home, Manx Martin is usually shown as coming in, much to the chagrin of his
children and wife. He fails in his father role miserably when he sells the priceless
baseball his son got from the historic game between the New York Giants and the
Brooklyn Dodgers. Moreover, it is ironic that Manx Martin betrays his sons trust on
a baseball stadium, the place where the father-son relationship has traditionally been
built and strengthened in the USA.
3
David Savran finds the phrase take it like a man particularly interesting for the exploration of
masculine identity. In his opinion, it suggests that masculinity is a process, a trial through which one
passes. The word like denotes imitation, suggesting that one cannot simply be a man, but always
struggle to behave in a manly manner (Savran 1998: 38).
4
Violent behavior is also encouraged by gory media images like the video of Texas Highway
Killer, which is played and replayed throughout the novel.
506
In brief, it is evident that neither Jimmy nor Manx feel comfortable in their
father roles. Nevertheless, the novel also features certain fatherly figures some of
whom do not function as real, biological fathers. Indeed, it could be a matter of
some debate whether Nick subconsciously identifies with other male characters who
might be analyzed as his surrogate fathers principally with Albert Bronzini, a
science teacher and a family friend, and George Manza, the man Nick accidentally
shot. Contrary to Nicks father Jimmy, Albert is resistant to separation from his ex
wife Clara, perceiving divorce as a hindrance to living (DeLillo 1999: 234). He is
shown as a loving and caring father who plans his evening around phoning his
daughter waiting for the hour of the rate change and then placing a chair by the
telephone () his face in the rotary dial, sending her a little money now and then,
out of his teachers pension (DeLillo 1999: 231). Albert is perceived as the story
voice, the play voice (DeLillo 1999: 714) by his ex wife, as a good friend and
teacher by Matt and Nick, and as an old eccentric by his neighbors, which is largely
due to his unmanly love for opera and lack of any aspirations to behave like a
man. When Matt and Nicks father left, Mr. Bronzini was there for them, especially
for little Matt, whom he taught how to play chess another activity usually reserved
for fathers. What complicates their relationship in the novel, though, is Nicks brief
love affair with Alberts wife, making Nick something of an oedipal figure in these
scenes.
5
A similar idea is implanted in the readers mind in the scene of Nicks
appointment with the prison psychiatrist Dr Lindbland, who tells him that his father
was the third person in the room (DeLillo 1999: 512) on the day when he shot
George Manza, and that this was a symbolic murder of his own father. Indeed, we
learn that George the Waiter often advised Nick not to leave school and had a
protective attitude towards him, but Nicks half-ironic comment about Dr
Lindblands remark, She told me that one way or another the two events were
connected, meaning that six years after Jimmy disappeared I shot a guy who didnt
know my father, or barely knew him, or saw him on the street () (DeLillo 1999:
512) could serve as a warning not to jump to this conclusion too readily. At any rate,
the murder may, in symbolic terms, underline Nicks disappointment at seeing
another failed role model, master poolshooter, indulging in substance abuse, not
even remotely interested in what would become of his protg.
5. Conclusion
Ideas of masculinity are given a prominent place in Underworld and DeLillo
seems to be particularly interested in the way male characters cope with the
5
In the room where Clara and Nick made love there was a painting of Whistler's mother
Arrangement in Gray and Black, which might support the idea of Nick sleeping with a motherlike
figure. Similarly, in the chapter Arrangement in Gray and Black Nick's mother is one of the most
prominent characters, which reinforces the connection between these two women.
507
dominant fantasies of manhood. As it appears, male characters in the novel share
certain common anxieties concerning masculinity and their performance, largely
seeing themselves as victims of American culture and perceiving the proscribed
masculine roles as alien and confining as artificial limbs. The stereotypical
patterns they are expected to follow at all times feel unnatural and socially
constructed, especially due to lack of role models in the shape of fatherly figures on
the one hand, and abundance of demands to behave like real men - successful,
powerful and sexually apt providers interested in manly things - on the other, so
imitations of the imposed masculine identity frequently result in feelings of
confusion, inadequacy and failure. Nevertheless, most of the characters believe they
need to take it like a man and keep their anxieties and fears at bay, to abide by the
law of manly conduct lest they should be marked as unmanly and become socially
marginalized.
References
Butler, J. (1995). Melancholy Gender/ Refused Identification. In: M. Berger, B.
Wallis and S. Watson (eds.). Constructing Masculinity (Discussion in
Contemporary Culture). New York: Routledge
DeLillo, D. (1999). Underworld. London: Picador.
Dojinovi-Nei, B. (2007). Kartograf modernog sveta: romani Dona Apdajka.
Beograd: Filoloki fakultet
Edwards, T. (2006). Cultures of Masculinity. London and New York: Routledge
Heyler, R. (2008). DeLillo and masculinity. In: J. Duvall (ed.). The Cambridge
Companion to Don DeLillo. Cambridge: CUP
Kegan Gardiner, J. (2002). Masculinity studies and feminist theory. New York:
Columbia University Press
Nylund, D. (2007). Beer, babes, and balls: masculinity and sports talk radio. New
York: State University of New York Press
Savran, D. (1998). Taking it like a man: white masculinity, masochism, and
contemporary American culture. New Jersey: Princeton University Press
Specter Person, E. (2009). Masculinities, Plural. In: B. Reis, R. Grossmark (eds.).
Heterosexual masculinities: contemporary perspectives from
psychoanalythic gender theory. New York: Routledge
Updike, J. (2003). One-way street: a new novel by Don DeLillo, In: The New
Yorker, March 31st. Available at: http://www.newyorker.com/archive/
2003/03/31/030331crbo_books1 March 1st 2011
508
Ivana Mari
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
IDENTITY IN ARUNDHATI ROYS THE GOD OF SMALL THINGS AND
KIRAN DESAIS THE INHERITANCE OF LOSS: AMBIVALENCE AND
MIMICRY
Abstract The paper discusses the issue of identity and its rethinking within the
frames of postcolonial literary theory with the focus on ambivalence and mimicry, as
proposed by the critic Homi Bhabha. The characters of Pappachi in TGOST and the
judge in TIOL reproduce the colonial cultural norms and in doing so are produced as
colonial subjects, fixed in the relationship of subordination. The posibility of
resistance of such colonial subjects does not reside in an overt opposition but in the
inherent ambivalence of the dominant colonial discourse which needs, but
simultaneously rejects its colonized Other. By mimicking the cultural norms of the
colonizer Pappachi and the judge contest the colonial subject construction.
Key words: postcolonial literary theory, identity, discourse, ambivalence, mimicry,
resistance
1. Introduction
Since a decade ago, Indian writing in English has been thriving in the number
of books published per year and the variety of represented genres. Andrew
Buncombe, in the article Golden age of Indian writing: How a new generation of
writers is making waves in South Asia published in The Independent singles out
genres such as crime novels, comic-strip books, and memoirs along with the Indian
adaptations of Chick-Lit (sari fiction). He quotes a young writers view on the
subject:
There are few better places to be a writer than in the subcontinent. The
21st century co-exists with the 19th here, and tradition clashes with modernity
all the time, around us and in the choices that we make. It's a time of great
change and conflict, and this is fascinating for any writer to document. There is
no shortage of compelling human stories around us to inspire us. (Buncombe
2009)
Among these stories, two writers stand out. Arundhati Roy and Kiran Desais
literary accomplishments resonate across the wider readership as well as in academic
509
circles. Both writers are, to a varying degree, turned towards social reform and
alternatives to the victimization of the oppressed. In The God of Small Things and
The Inheritance of Loss Roy and Desai explore the construction of subjectivity
within different cultural frames contesting their mechanisms and opening up
different possibilities for the rethinking of identity.
2. Theoretical framework: postcolonialism and identity
The term Postcolonialism/Post-colonialism
6
was first used by historians of the
Second World War to designate, chronologically, the post-independence period of
the former colonies. Broadly taken, Postcolonialism/Post-colonialism deals with the
effects of colonization on cultures and societies, Ashcroft and associates write
(Ashcroft et al. 2002: 186). More specifically,
Postcolonialism/Post-colonialism is now used in wide and diverse ways to
include the study and analysis of European territorial conquests, the various
institutions of European colonialisms, the discursive operations of empire, the
subtleties of subject construction in colonial discourse and the resistance of
those subjects, and, most importantly perhaps, the differing responses to such
incursions and their contemporary colonial legacies in both pre- and post-
independence nations and communities. (Ashcroft et al. 2002: 187)
Postcolonialism understands identity and human nature as products not
causes of certain social and cultural factors which include ideology, discourse and
language and it discusses the various degrees of resistance that a subject formed in
such a way can engender.
Edward Said was the first postcolonial theorist to deploy Foucaults concept of
discourse to analyze the notion of colonial subject construction. In Foucaults
definition discourse produces a subject [... ] dependent upon the rules of the system
of knowledge that produces it (Ashcroft et al. 2002: 223). His analysis of the
production of subjects such as criminal, pervert, lunatic within the discourses of
criminality, sexuality and psychiatry shows that these discourses are always a
function of the power of those who control the discourse to determine the
knowledge and truth (Ashcroft et al. 2002: 224). Saids theory of Orientalism
proposes that colonial domination involved not only physical but also discursive
domination of the forms of representation through which it distorted knowledge
about the colonized, justified the physical domination, and actually produced the
Orient. Bhabhas critique of a discourse defined in such a way is aimed at the fact
6
Bill Ashcroft explains: The hyphen in post-colonial is a particular form of space-clearing
gesture (Appiah 1992: 241), a political notation which has a very great deal to say about the materiality
of political oppression (2001:10).
510
that it is too totalizing and that it does not allow for diversity of experiences,
ambivalence and the possibility of resistance.
Ambivalence is important for Bhabha as it causes a disruption in the colonial
domination thus challenging the binary oppositions upon which the colonial
domination was predicated. The need of the colonial discourse for the simultaneous
presence and absence of its Other is the starting point of Bhabhas interpretation of
colonial identity construction and agency. The colonial articulation of signs of
cultural difference also points to the fact of partial presence of both the colonizer
and the colonized since they operate in fixed stereotypes, colonial identities can
never achieve full presence; they always strive for authenticity.
As Bhabha sees it, the aim of the colonial discourse is to create the kind of
subjects who would reproduce colonial values, norms and tastes but not become
their exact replicas. Lord Macaulay in his text Minute on Education from 1835
articulated the need for an interpreter class between us and the millions whom we
govern, a class of persons Indian in blood and color, but English in tastes, opinions,
in morals, and in intellect (qtd. in Ashcroft et al. 2002: 140). However, the
reproduction of cultural norms is never simple as it leads towards a blurred copy
which can appear to mock that which it mimics. Thus mimicry, according to
Bhabha, is the site of resistance of the colonized - it destabilizes the domination of
the colonial discourse. Bhabha writes:
Resistance is not necessarily an oppositional act of political intention, nor
is it the simple negation or the exclusion of the content of another culture, as
difference once perceived...[but] the effect of an ambivalence produced within
the rules of recognition of dominating discourses as they articulate the signs of
cultural difference. (Bhabha 1994: 110)
Mimicry, Bhabha contends, a difference that is almost nothing but not quite,
turns to menace, a difference that is almost total but not quite (Bhabha 1994: 91)
thereby unsettling the colonial discourse. In their search for authenticity, the judge
and Pappachi mimic and simulatenously mock the cultural norms of the colonizer
turning the ambivalent colonial discourse upon itself.
3. The judges journey
The reader first encounters the judge (real name Jemubhai Popatlal Patel) on
the verandah of his decrepit mansion playing chess against himself, a scene
symbolic of his whole life. His present home was built and later sold to him by a
Scotsman who, like the rich white elite, chose to retreat into the lush and tranquil
hills of Kalimpong. The judges intention is to retire and live isolated in this place of
former colonial prestige. The house, Cho Oyu, is now in a state of disrepair
reflecting the psychological state of its owner - microscopic jaws saw-milling the
house to sawdust(Desai 2006: 34) are the jaws of time eating away at the judges
511
literal and metaphorical hideout. The surfacing of his suppressed memories is
triggered by the arrival of Sai, his granddaughter, who comes to Cho Oyu after her
parents die in an accident. The book opens with a raid by Nepali insurgents in which
he gets humiliated and his guns (a symbol of former colonial stature) stolen. This
marks the beginning of the end for the judge - the start of the irretrievable
disintegration of his identity at the dawn of the political and cultural change.
The opening scene reveals the judges bitterness and irritation at not being
served his tea properly. The concern for the symbol of colonial power, teatime, and
it not being enacted properly ironically underscores his own condition and proves
unsettling to the colonizer. His habit of going hunting despite the fact that he never
shoots anything represents a site of resistance that mimicry opens.
In his exaggerated copying of cultural norms the judge is disrupting the
domination of the colonial discourse. His departure for England marks the beginning
of an attempt to do the impossible - to bridge the gap between the two fixed
opposites. The departure dock has benches with Indians only and Europeans
only written on them, the band are playing Take me back to my dear old Blighty
underlining the deep rift of the judges world:
A journey once begun, has no end. The memory of his ocean trip shone
between the worlds. Below and beyond, the monsters of his unconscious
prowled, awaiting the time when they would rise and be proven real and he
wondered if hed dreamt of the drowning power of the sea before his first sight
of it. (Desai 2006: 111)
He wants to leave behind the contradiction of his existence but what he is
entering is the realm of another contradiction, which wears the elusive mask of
opportunity. Moreover, he excises the Indian part of himself and tries to start anew
by despising all things Indian all the more fiercely. Undignified love, Indian love,
stinking, unaesthetic love was far worse than the stink of fear and loneliness
(Desai 2006: 38). Indian love understands the contradictions (his mother packs some
food for him for the voyage in case he should hesitate to go to the dining hall since
he doesnt know how to use knife and fork) while the future judge, guided by
ambition, wants to cancel it out, to cancel humiliation out by becoming the power
holding opposite. Jemu watched his father disappear. He didnt throw the coconut
and he didnt cry. Never again would he know love for a human being that wasnt
adulterated by another, contradictory emotion (Desai 2006: 37).
For the judge, England is fraught with loneliness, humiliation and desperate
attempts to belong, even as a shadow, to this new world. When he arrives in 1939,
England is still an empire and not used to having their colonized Other in their
midst. The difficulties of bridging the gap between the worlds are manifold, not least
of which is the color of his skin. He finds out that he is powerless in the face of
rejection so he withdraws from the world in all things but one studying, the only
skill he could carry from one country to another. [...] He retreated into a solitude
512
that grew in weight day by day. The solitude became a habit, the habit became a
man, and it crushed him into a shadow (Desai 2006: 39). His existence as a shadow
supports Bhabhas view of partial presence discussed above.
When he meets Bose, an Indian student and his only friend in England, the
judges attitude changes. Bose seems to have bridged the gap between the worlds
and he opens the door of western art, history, philosophy, music, and pro-
nunciation to the judge. While trying to maintain their own world of constructed
Britishness, the judges success in being accepted as something that he is not is
problematic:
Thus it was that the judge eventually took revenge on his early
confusions, his embarrassments gloved in something called "keeping up
standards," his accent behind a mask of a quiet. He found he began to be
mistaken for something he wasnta man of dignity. This accidental poise
became more important than any other thing. He envied the English. He
loathed Indians. He worked at being English with the passion of hatred and for
what he would become, he would be despised by absolutely everyone, English
and Indians, both. (Desai 2006: 119)
Upon his return to India, he is confronted with his original culture. He was a
foreigner-a foreigner-every bit of him screamed (Desai 2006: 167). On the surface,
he has achieved his goal he rejected the traditional backward ways of his culture
and came back as a learned man, the first son of the community to join Indian Civil
Service (Desai 2006: 165), a judge. But, his mask of whiteness is ridiculed by the
original culture which becomes an additional reason for him to stick to this image all
the more fervidly he powders his face every morning.
7
His mimicry is never a
presence but a veneer over his self- and other-directed hatred.
It is more than a little ironic that the judge is in charge of distinguishing
between right and wrong while his own father, just a generation ago, made a living
by procuring false witnesses.
In an attempt to immobilize his colonial identity he
even names himself James Peter Peterson for Jemubhai Popatlal Patel but he is most
often identified by his function the judge. His mimicry is best portrayed by the
following passage: the man with the white curly wig and a dark face covered in
powder bringing down his hammer, always against the native, in the world that was
still colonial (Desai 2006: 205). The system of justice he is serving is foreign to his
culture which is why it often borders on mockery. When he retires, it is with the
thought that India was too messy for justice
(Desai 2006: 264)
. Bhabha writes:
[...] the colonial presence is always ambivalent, split between its appearance as
7
Sai and the cook inadvertently insult him many years later when they chuckle in the kitchen
with their faces white from flour like the English, they say.
513
original and authoritative and its articulation as repetition and difference (Bhabha
1994: 107)
8
.
Although in the position to judge others, he is not exempt from being judged.
However, regardless of the contradictions of the system, the judge is not blind to his
own mistakes. The heavy burden of a life-long pretense and wrongdoings starts to
trouble him when Sai arrives. Initially, he is hoping for an easy escape:
When you build on lies, you build strong and solid. It was the truth that
undid you. He couldnt knock down the lies or else the past would crumble,
and therefore the present. . . . But he now acquiesced to something in the past
that had survived, returned, that might, without his paying too much attention,
redeem him. (Desai, 2006: 209)
The judge sees this moment as the beginning of some sort of repentance for his
sins, as Desai says: [...] he hoped an unacknowledged system of justice was
beginning to erase his debts (Desai 2006: 308). This thought indicates that the
belief in human justice is starting to disintegrate together with his constructed
colonial identity. The agony of losing Mutt the dog pries open the cracked shell
releasing the old prayers learned before he was taught to despise them. Defeated, the
judge reverts back to the original cultures script in that he offers sacrifices for Mutt
and eventually takes everything out on the cook. In this scene, which is the epitome
of the master-slave relationship, both characters make one last desperate try to find
some other signifiers of identity, but there are few left.
4. Pappachis moth
Benaan John Ipe derives a lot of his superiority from being an Imperial
Entomologist, part of the colonial elite in Kerala and generally India. Apart from
this, his family belongs to the Syrian Christian denomination, a religious minority
who pride themselves on being the descendants of Brahmins converted to
Christianity by St Thomas in 52 CE. Benaans father, Reverend E. John Ipe was
well known in the Christian community as the man who had been blessed personally
by the Patriarch of Antioch, the sovereign head of the Syrian Christian Churchan
episode that had become a part of Ayemenems folklore (Roy 1998: 22).
Even though this should make them foreign to the caste system, it is not in fact
the case because the early converts were Brahmins
9
. Alex Tickell explains:
8
In The Location of Culture (1994) Bhabha discusses the ambivalence of the colonial discourse
using the example of how the Bible was first perceived in colonial India. The high circulation of the
Bible was not to result in a high number of Christian converts, as the colonizer had intended, since it
was used for different purposes as wrapping paper, for barter, shown around as a curiosity in return
for money (1994:124-125).
514
Traditionally, the community has preserved its high social standing by a custom of
strict endogamy (marriage within the community) and a careful observance of many
of the social restrictions of upper-caste Hindus (Tickell 2007: 20). In their power to
ostracize and excommunicate their members they resembled a caste, which is the
reason why the Syrian Christians survived in Kerala - because of their selective
assimilation with the local Hindu expectations and customs. As Roy writes:
Pappachi would not allow Paravans into the house. Nobody would. They were not
allowed to touch anything that Touchables touched. Caste Hindus and Caste
Christians (Roy 1998: 73).
Educated for an entomologist in Vienna, Pappachis work of collecting,
preserving and indexing Indias fauna puts him at the heart of colonial enterprise
(Mullaney 2005: 3). The same contradiction of two opposing positions, the one of
the colonizer towards which he strives and the other of the colonized to which he
always returns applies to Pappachi:
Until the day he died, even in the stifling Ayemenem heat, every single
day Pappachi wore a well-pressed three-piece suit and his gold pocket watch.
On his dressing table, next to his cologne and silver hairbrush, he kept a
pictureof himself as a young man, with his hair slicked down, taken in a
photographers studio in Vienna... (Roy 1988: 49)
In this photograph which Mammachi reverently displays in the drawing room
after his death, he is represented as a colonial subject fixed in the colonial discourse
wearing jodhpurs even though he had never ridden a horse in his life (Roy 1998:
51) with an ivory handled crop and his head high but not so high as to appear
haughty (Roy 1998: 51). A detail on his upper lip, a fleshy knob (Roy 1998: 51),
which makes him look like he is pouting, further undermines the authoritative pose.
The small disfiguration is also connected to childrens thumb sucking which
complicates Pappachis status even more in that he is represented as potentially
childlike, someone in need of protection and guidance. This photograph shows the
power of the colonizers over the means of representation, the aim of which is to
reduce the complexities of identities on both sides to two mutually exclusive
opposites. This is precisely where the resistance of the colonized lies since mimicry
can never be separated from mockery which exposes the contradictions of the
colonial discourse.
Pappachis ambivalence is perceived by his family thus:
Ammu said that Pappachi was an incurable British-CCP, which was short
for chhi-chhi poach and in Hindi meant shit-wiper. Chacko said that the correct
word for people like Pappachi was Anglophile. He made Rahel and Estha look
9
Knott defines a Brahmin as the ...one who recites Vedic hymns and performs the sacrifice;
priestly caste (Knott 2008: 18)
515
up Anglophile in the Readers Digest Great Encyclopaedic Dictionary . It said:
Person well disposed to the English . Then Estha and Rahel had to look up
dispose.
It said:
(1) Place suitably in particular order.
(2) Bring mind into certain state.
(3) Do what one will with, get off ones bands, stow away, demolish, finish, r~
settle, consume (food), kill, sell.
Chacko said that in Pappachis case it meant (2) Bring mind into certain
state. Which, Chacko said, meant that Pappachis mind had been brought into a
state which made him like the English. (Roy 1998: 52)
The oppression caused by such epistemic violence in Pappachis, like in the
judges case, breeds more violence. Ammu witnessed the elaborate destruction of
her favorite gumboots because her father came home out of sorts. Other scenarios
include double standards and the fact that Ammus brothers education is a good
investment, but not hers and the inequality of brothers and sisters with regard to
inheritance laws.
10
Mammachis violin lessons stop once Pappachi learns that she is
exceptionally good at it. When she starts the pickle factory, he does everything in his
power to get in the way and further discourage her being relatively independent by
beating her constantly and by pretending in public to be neglected. When he is
unable to take it out on Mammachi any more, he smashes his rocking chair (a
symbol of his position). He compensates by acquiring a Plymouth only for himself
(Pappachis revenge). His cruelty is calculating, playing out the
colonizer/colonized script.
As Mullaney writes: Pappachi has so internalized the values, beliefs, and
ideologies of the colonizers that he cannot countenance criticism or question of
anyone he sees as representative of that system(Mullaney 2005: 37). This applies
particularly in the case of Ammu and the reason why she left her husband which is
something Pappachi rejects as even a possibility not because he thought well of her
husband, but simply because he didnt believe that an Englishman, any Englishman,
would covet another mans wife (Roy 1998: 24).
Ammus term for people like Pappachi situates her firmly within the Hindu
context whereas Chackos scientific approach (the correct word) and a Latin term
(Anglophilia) echoes Pappachi and Western contexts. He further stresses their
cultural mimicry going back to the twins great grandfather:
Chacko told the twins that, though he hated to admit it, they were all
Anglophiles. They were a family of Anglophiles. Pointed in the wrong
10
...as Chacko comments whats yours is mine and whats mine is also mine (Roy 1988: 57)
516
direction, trapped outside their own history and unable to retrace their steps
because their footprints had been swept away. (Roy 1998: 52)
With the departure of the British, Pappachis identity changes, not only in the
title (from Imperial Entomologist to Joint director and later just Director) but also in
substance after Independence, he is caught between masters (Mullaney 2005:
34) just like the judge and Chacko. Most of all, his predicament is symbolically
represented by the moth he discovers but which is not named after him. His high
hopes about being recognized by the center come to nothing because the center is
constantly moving away and in post-Independent India, the social roles are being
recast. As Mullaney writes:
In the same way that the whirlwind of post-Independence creates a space
for the evolution of new and alternate social orders and dynamics of power
(Communism, Marxism) that threaten to transform the role of his class
generally, the specific rearrangement of the classifying systems in Pappachis
chosen profession, entomology, transform and eclipses his role in the discovery
of a new species of moth. (Mullaney 2005: 33)
The moth represents the delicate and shifting nature of meaning, which is of no
use to the imperial enterprise unless it is classified and fixed as an object of study.
When its meaning is immobilized, a thing can be possessed. The fact that the moth
was not named after Pappachi is significant in that it underscores his failure to write
himself into the dominant culture and become a part of it. The moth which haunts
his descendants is the journey that haunts the judges.
5. Conclusion
Mimicry as a form of resistance is a possible reading of the construction of the
colonial identities of the judge and Pappachi which defies the victimisation of the
oppressed. Following Bhabhas theory of the ambivalence of colonial discourse, the
judge and Pappachi embody the inherent crack within the colonial discourse and
challenge it. Since they cannot choose signifiers of their identity other than the ones
provided by the dominant discourse, their challenge is seen as subversive. The more
subversive of the two is perhaps Pappachis mimicry as he appears to remain trapped
in his cocoon while the judge lets the shell crack when he becomes aware of the
constructedness of his identity. Mimicry reverses the gaze, exposing the
contradictions of the colonial discourse, and points to the unstable nature of all
identities.
517
References
Ashcroft, B., et al. (2002). Post Colonial Studies: The Key Concepts. London-New
York: Routlege
Ashcroft, B. (2001). Post-Colonial Transformation. London-New York: Routlege
Bhabha, H. (1994). The Location of Culture. London-New York: Routledge
Buncombe, A. (2009). Golden age of Indian writing: How a new generation of
writers is making waves in South Asia. Available at:
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/features/golden-age-of-
indian-writing-how-a-new-generation-of-writers-is-making-waves-in-south-
asia-1749438.html. Retrieved on: 27 June 2011.
Desai, K. (2006). The Inheritance of Loss. London: Penguin
Mullaney, J. (2005). Arundhati Roys The God of Small Things: A Readers Guide.
New York: The Continuum International Publishing Group Inc
Roy, A. (1998). The God Of Small Things. London: Flamingo
Tickell, A. (2007). Arundhati Roys The God of Small Things. Oxon: Routlegde
Knott, K. (2008). Hinduism: A Very Short Introduction.New Delhi: Oxford
University Press
518
Claire McGrail Johnston
Limerick, Ireland
[email protected]
READING THE IRISH NOVEL: A GOTHIC ENCOUNTER OF
TREMULOUS SIGNIFICANCE
Abstract The modern Irish novel will be explored in terms of an Irigarayan
dwelling place and the reader / writer relationship as an active process of
Irigarayan intersubjectivity. The Gothic is viewed potentially as a means by which
we may return behind or beyond all our discourses and knowledge (Irigaray
2004: 3), thus facilitating an engagement within the intersubjective relationship.
This active relationship also highlights how the acts of reading and writing
ultimately become Gothicized. Described as made of our flesh, our heart, our
thinking, and our words (Irigaray 2004: 7), how far can these theoretical tactile
spaces help us to view the novel as a credible place of healing and as a haptology of
the heart? (Derrida 2005: 251). If love has been thrown to the dark worried
margins ofsufficient reason (Marion 2008: 1) we might reclaim it in the novel,
with help from the Gothic.
Key words: Gothic, the Irish novel, health, Deleuze, Banville, Morrissy, Deane,
Irigaray.
1. Reading as an enterprise of health
I came across a line in a journal article recently that has been haunting me. A
Liverpool writer Pauline Rowe, speaking of a friend and mentor who instilled in her
a love of literature at an early age, describes how he taught her to write the words
of others in my heart so that, in deep crisis, they came back to save me (Rowe
2009: 76). Rowes depiction of words being inscribed on the heart, and travelling
within the body like invited fellow-explorers, recalls Denis Donoghues comment
that sometimes, after reading, a word, a phrase, a sentence lingers and presents
itself as though it had broken free from its setting and declared its independence
(Donoghue 2008: 44). Drawing upon these ideas, I want to consider the notion that
the simple act of reading fiction, of reading the words of another person, has the
capacity to offer help and emotional sustenance in times of crisis.
Any literary form has the potential to offer such a resource, but my interest in
this article lies with the novel. Focusing specifically upon the Irish novel, I would
like to consider the role that literature may have as a potentially tactile enterprise of
health (Deleuze 1997: 3). Gilles Deleuzes notion of health in this instance does not
refer exclusively to the physiological sense of the term. His intention is to focus
519
upon the acts of reading and writing as means of instilling vitality and creativity into
the processes of thinking. This is a form of health whose timbre is discovered in
tandem with movement, invention and creation. Inspired by Nietzsches belief that
[e]very art, every philosophy can be considered a cure and aid in the service of
growing, struggling life (Nietzsche 2008: 234), Deleuze sees philosophy entering
into diverse, unpredictable and non-privileging relationships within the spheres of
art, literature, medicine and science. Like philosophers, writers are creative thinkers
and if we engrave others words in our hearts in the way Rowe recounts, so too are
readers.
Deleuze has questioned how we can nurture our growth and transitions through
life if we do not have the courage to enter into regions far from equilibrium
(Deleuze 1997: 109). This is where the Gothic may have a productive role in
literature. Donoghues idea about words escaping their settings, lingering only to
emerge in our presence at another time, has already introduced a Gothic spectrality
into the act of reading. Gina Wisker has suggested that the Gothic is layered with
meaning, demanding interpretation and engagement from readers (Wisker 2007:
402), furthermore it employs strategies of estrangement and engagement to explore
and challenge cultural, social, psychological and personal issues (Wisker 2007: 404).
In other words, the Gothic not only makes us think but can also enable explorations
of emotional pathways that allow us to challenge beliefs about the world we inhabit.
By stimulating and provoking emotions with tactics of displacement, the Gothic can
assist our ability to interpret our environment. Erika Kerruish, also drawing upon the
philosophy of Nietzsche, remarks: emotions incorporate a passive capacity to sense
the world in the context of a persons efforts towards persisting and thriving in the
world (Kerruish 2000: 123).
The emphasis on processes of persisting and thriving takes us back to the
idea of health, specifically through the galvanizing of emotions. If the challenges
delivered by the Gothic are cultivated by exploring feelings, desires and passions
(Smith and Hughes 2003: 1) together with a seeming celebration of the irrational,
the outlawed and the socially and culturally dispossessed (Smith and Hughes 2003,
1), then Gothic readings can take us to those regions far from equilibrium
(Deleuze 1997: 109).
If, as Jerrold Hogle suggests, the Gothic shows us our cultural and
psychological selves and conditions in their actual multiplicity (Hogle 2002: 19),
then the potential for creative thinking is extensive. Moreover, if there are vestiges
of the Gothic within the act of reading itself, we might similarly conceive of reading
as a means by which we can undertake journeys that directly challenge our emotions
and beliefs. Such challenges provide incentives for resourceful and radical thinking
and consequently open opportunities to unearth innovative ways of dealing with
lifes crises.
It might be objected that reading and thinking can only be of minor import in
the face of crisis. To answer this objection we might consider Deleuze and Flix
Guattaris comment on the volatile and transformative mobility of nomad thought
520
(Deleuze and Guattari 2008: xiii). Nomad thought is dynamic; it looks to the future
without attempting to erase the past, and enables the assimilation of a multiplicity
of elements without effacing their heterogeneity (Deleuze and Guattari 2008: xiii).
Furthermore, by not impeding the flow of such multiplicities we may possibly
encounter a source of inventive energy that can break constraints and open new
vistas (Deleuze and Guattari 2008: xiii). If we view reading and subsequent
thinking in this flexible and open way it becomes a form of creative empowerment;
indeed, as Brian Massumi argues in his foreword to Deleuze and Guattaris A
Thousand Plateaus:
The question is not: is it true? But: does it work? What new thoughts does
it make it possible to think? What new emotions does it make it possible to
feel? What new sensations and perceptions does it open in the body? (Deleuze
and Guattari 2008: xv)
These questions encourage the reader to focus deeply upon the ways in which
feelings, emotions and thoughts can offer journeys in syncretic perception, where
words and tactile experiences interweave. But how does the act of reading acquire
Gothic attributes?
2. The Gothicised tactile encounter
A few lines from Alan Bennetts play The History Boys capture something of
the essence of what I am trying to work towards here. In an effort to communicate
what we encounter at the very heart of the experience of reading, Bennett says:
The best moments in reading are when you come across something, a thought,
a feeling; a way of looking at things that youd thought special, particular to you.
And here it is, set down by someone else, a person youve never met, maybe even
someone long dead. And its as if a hand has come out and taken yours. (Bennett
2004: 56)
The manifestation of this hand carries with it a sense of haunting, a
benevolent haunting, from a textual, maybe even spectral, presence. Furthermore, if
we view the Gothic, in the sociologist Avery Gordons terms, as an encounter of
tremulous significance (Gordon 2008: 134) that speaks of phantoms (Punter
2004: 3), we might even say that it evokes the idea of a meaningful union, a
thoughtful conversation, between the Gothic and the act of reading.
Crucially, however, Bennetts words introduce the idea of reading as a form of
touch. Jean-Luc Nancy offers a stimulating rationale for this idea in his declaration
that [b]odies are in touch on this page, whether we want it or not (Qtd. Derrida
2005: 225). What remains in the book after it leaves its creator is described by
Jacques Derrida as a small, stubborn, and tenuous grain, the minute dust of contact
521
(Derrida 2005: 225). The appearance of the hand imparts an awareness of the body;
flesh and phantom form a symbiotic relationship with thoughts and feelings.
Bennetts words carry with them what might be at the very heart of reading:
they suggest a heartfelt relationship between reader and writer. So it is to the heart I
wish to turn. A vivid symbol of flesh and spirit and an ancient centre of emotion and
thought, the heart is located by Derrida as our place of secret interiority and even
likened to a crypt (Derrida 2005: 267). Derrida thus creates an instant link with the
Gothic which, in David Punters words, makes the crypt the cornerstone of its
diverse landscape (Punter 2004: 3). In keeping with the whole idea of reading as
touch, Derrida intimately links heart, hand, and body with reading, thinking,
memory and writing when he asks: Isnt the heart memory? Isnt it thinking of
memory? Thinking as memory? We shall safeguard the recollection [] as it also
writes itself or is written on the heart and on the hand (Derrida 2005: 35). Thus
hand, heart, thinking and memory are inextricably entwined in a choreography that
becomes a heartfelt reading. We might also consider that when we read, it is a form
of rewriting, even an inscription on the heart. On this note Nancy adds,
we clearly have to understand reading is that which is not deciphering, but
rather touching and being touched, having to do with body mass and bulk.
Writing, reading, a tactful affair. (Qtd. Derrida 2005: 127; emphasis added)
For Derrida then, there is no doubt that we read with our bodies. In Rosi
Braidottis words, bodies are portions of living memory that endures by undergoing
constant internal modifications following the encounter with other bodies and
forces (Braidotti 2008: 99). Derrida and Braidotti effectively challenge the notion
that a sense of immediacy is absolutely necessary to the act of touching. Reading,
then, can indeed be a form of touch.
One of the recurring and diffuse transmissions that occur between writer and
reader involves the relationship developed with individual characters encountered
within a narrative. Once the privilege afforded to immediacy in the act of touching
has been challenged, there opens a potential for a more profound sense of
communication with characters within the spaces of the text. Such conceivably
tactile interaction, as Derrida suggests, yields presence (Derrida 2005: 121).
Furthermore,
[w]e could then touch what is not! Which is to say, not only intelligible
beingsbeyond the sensesbut also what does not even present itself any
longer as a being, a being-present. (Derrida 2005: 121-122)
Derridas words also resonate with Michel de Certeaus notion of the presence
of diverse absences (de Certeau 1984: 108) which, for him, haunts the everyday as
well as innumerable texts. These observations help to further connect ideas of
reading and the body with the Gothic. We have already seen that the hand that
Bennett speaks of as accompanying the act of reading carries with it both a spectral
522
and a material presence. In such a light, de Certeaus depiction of the Gothicized
body thriving within Gothic spaces is quite enthralling:
[F]rom the nooks of all sorts of reading rooms (including lavatories)
emerge subconscious gestures, grumblings, tics, stretchings, rustlings,
unexpected noises, in short a wild orchestration of the body. (de Certeau 1984:
175; my emphasis)
De Certeau also suggests that, rather than being a mere impertinent absence,
reading has the potential to constitute the network of an anti-discipline (de Certeau
1984: xv). Reading can be confrontational and audacious, or maybe just startling, as
references to the words unexpected noises and wild orchestrations implycan
be, in fact, just like the Gothic. Indeed, for Fred Botting the Gothic is associated
with wildness (Botting 2001: 3).
The essentially tactile elements of the reading experience are further elaborated
upon by Vladimir Nabokov. He has written about the reader-writer relationship in a
way that speaks from, to and about the heart and body. Nabokov likens the writers
craft to an arduous mountain climb up towards the summit where,
[] at the top, on a windy ridge, whom do you think he meets? The
panting and happy reader, and there they spontaneously embrace and are linked
forever if the book lasts forever. (Nabokov 1983: 2)
A tactful affair indeed!
3. The novel: brimming with plastic possibilities
Before I move on to give some examples of tactful readings, I should clarify
why I have chosen to focus on the novel. After all, Pablo Neruda said that poetry
should contain the stuff of life that is steeped in sweat, smoke, smelling of lilies
and urine (Neruda 1974: xxii), and the sheer physicality of drama speaks for itself.
It is the novel, however, which provides that rambling sense of space in which to tell
a story, to set out on an adventure across its generous landscapes. I agree with
Franco Morettis description of the novel as a phoenix always ready to take flight
in a new direction (Moretti 2007: ix), with Mikhail Bakhtins notion that it is like
a creature from an alien species, full of plastic possibilities (Bakhtin 1996: 4).
Similarly, John Banville has described the novel as some enormous intricate thing
dancing, in sadness, brief happiness, pain (Qtd. Imhof 1989: 17). For me, the novel
is intriguing; it speaks of emotion, mystery and regeneration, and is full of what
Margaret Doody has called a rich, muddy messiness (Doody 1997: 485).
The journeys we embark upon in a novel may be comfortable and
undemanding. However, they can also involve more deeply challenging and thorny
paths. Walter Siti, in an article that reinforces this sense of divergence, uses an
523
interesting metaphor. Holding Flauberts description of Emma Bovarys poison as
tasting like ink up against Judge Woolseys famous 1934 declaration that Ulysses
had a somewhat emetic effect on the reader, Siti sees the novel as both poison and
medicine. Paradoxically, the ink, lifeblood of the novel, becomes both poison, like
Emmas draft, and medicine, like the emetic Ulysses. In this light the novel becomes
the multi-faceted pharmakon which, by exploiting its powers of seduction in
tempting us to read makes one stray from ones general, natural, habitual paths and
laws (Derrida 1981: 70). Indeed we might further concur with Derrida and affirm
the dynamic relationship between writing, the pharmakon, the going or leading
astray (Derrida 1981: 71). To avail of any sense of an enterprise of health
(Deleuze 1997: 3) we may have to negotiate this leading astray (Derrida 1981:
71), the upheaval of the pharmakon. The novel may be the readers vessel for a
journey which offers the potential, in the words of Hlne Cixous, for us to
experience the end of the world [] to lose a world and to discover that there is
more than one world and that the world isnt what we think it is (Cixous 1993: 10).
Cixous here echoes Deleuzes challenge to journey to those regions far from
equilibrium (Deleuze 1997: 109).
4. Tactile reading: a haptology of the heart
To tease some of these ideas out a little further, I would like to explore
examples from three contemporary Irish novels: Mary Morrissys Mother of Pearl
(1996), John Banvilles Ghosts (1993), and Seamus Deanes Reading in the Dark
(1996). An exploration of memory and place in the contemporary Irish novel is a
meaningful exercise, especially in relation to reading as an enterprise of health
(Deleuze 1997: 3), given Irelands traumatic past, its extended history of
colonialism. The continuing emphasis on these themes in Irish fiction indicates the
way in which memory recovers and re-covers, it hurts and it heals, it haunts and it
empowers (Friberg, Gilsenan-Nordin, Yding-Pedersen 2007: xvi); the potentially
healing powers of memory and narrative can become what Banville expresses as a
necessary tender burden (Banville 1998: 178). All three of these writers have
conveyed a sensual textual geography in their work, while incorporating a sense of
physicality and spirituality that the reader can engage with on a deeply intimate
level. Each novel demonstrates what Derrida has called a haptology of the heart
(Derrida 2005: 251). The word haptology (from Greek haptesthai to touch or
haptikos to come into contact with, to lay hold of) expresses a perception of our
environment or location that exceeds visual experience. There is an intermingling of
a wide range of senses, including memories of earlier experiences of people or
places or acute perceptions of place, sensations of touch, sound, smell and so forth.
This meld of sensations may allow for experiences that are not easy to articulate, not
easy to name, but are nevertheless distinctly felt they may touch the reader deeply.
As I will go on to suggest, the difficulty of verbalising such events with concrete
524
accuracy may open up the readers awareness of entering a Gothicized ordeal of the
undecidable (Derrida 1994: 87).
In Mother of Pearl, Morrissy depicts Irenes longing for and reflection upon a
baby who has been removed from her care, and who can now only exist for her in
exquisite memories. Taking out her box of mementos, Irene touches a little lock of
hair that belonged to the baby girl, a small bright green mitten that was once
attached to a coat the wriggling child wore, and a book with the babys tiny teeth-
marks in the corner of the pages. Irenes physical, tactile and emotional reading of
this small treasure trove offers a means by which she can honestly say that [s]he
sees her every day [], a child skipping ahead of her on a dusty street, arms spread
wide greeting the future (Morrissy 1996: 223). For Irene, the child is not lost but
merely waiting to be found again (223).
In Banvilles Ghosts, there is a scene in which one of the characters stands
within an oak ridge. The air, permeated by the fresh smell of rain-soaked grass and
wild flowers, carries an awareness of what might be called ancestral voices. The
character becomes intensely aware of living among lives [] they speak of the past
and, more compellingly, of the future (Banville 1993: 101). The voices
communicate a yearning to be remembered, and the sensual geographic description
enhances the impression of human physicality, offering a palpable, earthy, and yet
spectral sense of place. The past, both personal and collective, is likened to a
melody I had lost that was starting to come back, I could hear it in my mind, a tiny,
thin, heartbreaking music (67). The haptology of place incorporates an example of
what Svetlana Boym calls reflective nostalgia (Boym 2001: xviii) in that the sense
of longing does not aspire to reconstruct some lost place of origin; instead, the
longing allows critical thought processes to thrive, however disturbing that activity
may be. The therapeutic potential of such reading resides in an unsettling upheaval
of the internal (Derrida 2005: 2) which is indeed a tender burden to bear
(Banville 1998: 178).
My last example is from Seamus Deanes Reading in the Dark. Here, a young
boy finds his way into an underground secret passage of a great ancient stone ring.
Such constructions are early medieval or iron age circular fortified spaces that can
frequently hold sacred significance or hold narrative connections in myths and
folklore. As the boy gradually descends into the passageway, it simply became
blackness (Deane 1996: 57). He begins to feel his way around in the dark, touching
the wet walls, feeling the skin of slime and the wrinkling moss. It becomes a
bronchial space where sight does not help to negotiate the environment. Sounds
and floral scents are interweaved into myth: the wind becomes the breathing of
ancient warriors, the floating perfume of heather and gorse is a signal of Druid
spells, and the sounds of underground water transform into the ancient emaciated
ghost sounds of women sighing. The cold of the place is described, with a physical
metaphor, as marrow deep. The boy is afraid, but when he has escaped from the
darkness, he looks back at the site and feels the experience to be even worse in
retrospect, more chilling and enclosed (57). While the experience itself is described
525
in highly tactile terms, the retrospective abstraction of the memory deeply intensifies
the experience.
Each of these examples illustrates the idea of a haptology, that weaving of the
senses which can produce vivid, tactile and, emotional responses in the reader. Each
also displays its own kind of Gothic haunting. The characters negotiate their
environments, read places and objects as we might read the novel, hearts and hands
trembling with emotion, thoughts forming, memories playing as writer reaches out
to reader, as if a hand has come out and taken yours.
5. Creative thinking: a body animated with intentions
So, what does all this add up to? How can these ideas be taken to constitute an
enterprise of health (Deleuze 1997: 2-3)? Firstly, let us consider something
Derrida says about touch:
But no living being in the world can survive for an instant without touching,
which is to say, without being touched. Not necessarily by some other being but by
something = [], for a finite, living being, before and beyond any concept of
sensibility, touching means being in the world. (Derrida 2005: 140)
For Derrida, [t]here is no world without touching (Derrida 2005: 140); touch
is intensely connected not just to our sense of health and wellbeing, but to survival
itself. Derridas assertions are reinforced by Sylvie Thorel-Cailleteaus suggestion
that the novel strives towards depicting the human in a strictly human framework
and is rooted in the depths of the body (Thorel-Cailleteau 2007: 94). Reading is,
as Derrida suggests, a tactful affair (Derrida 2005: 127).
Secondly, I would resist the classical interpretation of aesthetic emotion as
merely a cathartic release of excess feelings. The intense emotions involved in the
kind of reading that I have described can, paradoxically, encourage an engagement
in coherent, reasoned thinking. Erika Kerruish has read Nietzsche in a way that
shows that he does not view reason as conflicting with emotion but as integral to it
(Kerruish 2009: 18), thus determining that [t]he growth and flourishing of a self in
an environment requires the ability to passively suffer the emotions that monitor its
condition (Kerruish 2009: 23). By becoming what Irigaray has called actively
receptive (Irigaray 2004: 187) to these senses of touch, emotion and creative
thinking in the act of reading, we might also navigate a path, to borrow again from
Irigaray, from corporeal inertia to a body animated with intentions (Irigaray 2004:
188).
Finally, we might consider the potential importance of a form of thinking
which engages with the reading of a novel in light of Deleuze and Guattaris caution
that the less people take thought seriously, the more they think in conformity with
what the state wants (Deleuze and Guattari 2008: 415). Thinking and reading can
526
be radical; it can cultivate a sense of radical vitality. As Rosi Braidotti puts it,
[t]hinking is about change and transformation. Thinking is enfleshed, erotic and
pleasure driven (Braidotti 2008: 124). With this in mind, the pleasure we derive
from reading a novel becomes a critical part of the reading process. The novel
becomes a dynamic dwelling space which is, in Irigarays words, made of our
flesh, our heart, our thinking, our words (Irigaray 2004: 7). This is just the kind of
creative thinking which, for Jane Bennett and William E. Connolly, affords a
thrilling, breathtaking movement which weaves its way in, across and around the
body:
Thinking bounces in magical bumps and charges across multiple zones marked
by differences of speed, capacity and intensity. [...] It is above all in the relations
between the zones that possibilities for creativity reside. For thinking is not
harnessed entirely by the tasks of representation and knowledge. Through its
layered intra- and inter-corporeality new ideas, theories, identities are propelled
into being. Thinking is creative. (Bennett and Connolly 2002: 158-159)
It is just these resourceful magical bumps and charges that can exceed the
mere rational explaining away of crisis, arousing the reader to focus instead upon
feeling your way deeper and deeper . . . until you do feel what is at stake and
move towards a profane illumination (Gordon 2008: 134). Such reading and
creative thinking can offer what Irigaray assigns to the reading of philosophy: it
sometimes stimulates, even cures; at the very least, it sends us back to our daily
existence with our spirit a little more alive (Irigaray 2008: 4).
6. Configurations of emotion: maps, matter and elemental forces
It might also be deeply disturbing, rendering our thinking a configuration
pregnant with tensions (Benjamin 1969: 262). Using Benjamins concept of
configurations Id like to further elaborate upon some of the ideas already broached
in this article with particular reference to Banvilles novel Kepler (1981). Banville
employs the configurations of emotion, thought, nature and reality, further extending
the concept of haptology by creating a textual map of tenderness, a term used by
Madeleine de Scudry to describe a map which accompanied her novel Cllie
(1654). The Carte du Pays de Tendre, or map of the land of tenderness, offers a
journey through the narrative of emotions to countries of tenderness and intimacy.
Banvilles textual cartography does not simply represent reality but uses the map as
a poetic means of communication which seeks to offer a tool for the production of
meaning. Such a map embraces, to borrow Giuliana Brunos words, a haptic route
and a tender tactics (Bruno 2002: 208). Furthermore it displays itself as a
mapping of transito and an emotional map of transport (Bruno 2002, 208); a
thought-provoking topoi with locations akin to congealed suddenlys (Bakhtin
1996: 102).
527
In Kepler, flowing maps connect the four cosmological elements of air, earth,
water and fire which extend their influence throughout the text by permeating the
body, mind and the external environment. The elements materialize in the form of
storms, sunlight, tears, loss, deep sadness, love, urine, sweat, clouds, illness and
fever, wind and bodily functions as well as connecting rainfall with ink, writing and
creative instincts. Fire interweaves its physical and metaphysical forces within
emotional fervour, sexual energy and the sparks of an energetic mind as well as in
the violence imposed upon those considered to be different. Banville shows that the
same fire which spurs the writing of challenging texts can equally inflame the
censorship that seeks to burn them. Within such an intricate cartography of syncretic
perception movement and the possibility of change is evident. Banville presents a
map of tenderness which acknowledges the importance of emotion in the pursuit of
knowledge, questioning the certainty of truth. By weaving the elemental forces
into the equally changeable milieu of emotion and thought, Banville has created a
map of transito which recalls the Deleuzian notion of becoming, that displays
reality as a state of flux. Constant stability and fixed identities are shown to be
illusory.
There is an incident in Kepler which especially exemplifies the sheer force of
creative thinking, presenting it as a potent transformative force in times of crisis. In
a highly volatile environment of religious persecution, political turmoil,
discrimination, witch-burning, enforced exile, death, war, legal and financial battle,
Banville shows Kepler realising one of his most important scientific theories in the
most unexpected of circumstances. Stumbling drunk out of a tavern accompanied by
a number of women and drinking pals, Kepler vomits into a drain. In a Dionysian
mapping of alcohol and intoxication, gambling, uninhibited dance, wild music,
revelry, sexual abandon, vomit and human waste matter, Kepler experiences creative
thinking that reveals one of the laws of planetary movementthat of the elliptical
rather than circular movement of planets. Watching the women, who are described
with a Gothic nuance as goatish dancers (Banville 2001: 363), move in an
elliptical pattern in the light of the tavern window triggers Keplers epiphanic
moment. Thus the configurations of scientific, astronomical and geometric
knowledge are grounded within the human cartography of Dionysian earthly
pleasures. Mapping new configurations of reality can emerge from the most difficult
of circumstances, and the most human.
Deleuze and Guattaris ideas of nomadic space as heterogeneous, seeking to
break through existing frameworks (or mappings) and creating a space for
becoming, reinvention and change, is compatible with Banvilles cartographies.
Reading such spaces may prove a crucial process in times of crisis. Banvilles tender
mapping is comparable to nomadic space where we might encounter
an extraordinarily fine topology that relies not on points or objects but rather
on hacceities, on sets of relations (winds, undulations of snow or sand, the song of
the sand or the creaking of the ice, the tactile qualities of both). It is a tactile space,
528
or rather haptic, a sonorous much more than a visual space. (Deleuze and
Guattari 2008: 421)
This haptic space is determinedly of the rhizome type (Deleuze and Guattari
2008: 422).
And so we return to the haptologies that enable pathways into these nomadic
tender maps. The Gothic thrives as we experience textual locations that are at once
strange but yet perplexingly familiar. Deleuze and Guattari, citing the ideas of
Nathalie Sarraute, discuss a way of writing that liberates the particles of an
anonymous matter allowing them to communicate through the envelope of forms
and subjects (Deleuze and Guattari 2008: 295. This emancipatory act subsequently
enables us to perceive the imperceptible (Deleuze and Guattari 2008: 295).
Sarraute herself describes this matter, bringing us back again to the body, as a
substance as anonymous as blood, a magma without name or contours (Sarraute
1963: 94). Such matter may well flow though Banvilles writing, but these tender
cartographies can communicate an even deeper import, as Stuart Aitken argues:
The notion of a tender mapping is hugely appropriate to moving in and beyond
imperial cartographies of today and we believe emotional geographies help us to get
to that place (Aitken 2009: 1).
Reading and creating maps of tenderness can have much wider, global
implications. In times of crisis we might, through the act of reading, do as Deleuze
and Guattari suggest and [m]ake a map (Deleuze and Guattari 2008: 13), a map
that transgresses borders, uses multiple entryways and uses multiplicitous processes
of thought, feeling and being, in other wordsis rhizomatic. In this way tender
mapping avoids concepts of conquest and appropriation and seeks to caress the
earth, stroke its contours, without asking for a reward (Hassan 2005: 1).
7. Reading: an enfleshed and spectral embrace
In closing, I would like to return to the idea of reading as a benevolent
haunting, about something far more active than a mere deciphering of text. Hlne
Cixous reminds us that reading and writing are not simply frivolous pastimes, but
rather activities that contain at the core a hunger for flesh and tears (Cixous 2005:
97). Cixous also suggests that when we become adults we habitually forget how to
read, however we used to read when we were children and knew how violent
reading can be (Cixous 1993: 20). Indeed, as Nietzsche said, true maturity means
to have acquired the seriousness that one had as a child at play (Nietzsche 1997:
48). To treat reading with a sense of complacency ignores the violence and passion
that is integral to the process, and subsequently to a Gothicized enterprise of
health (Deleuze 1997: 2-3). By daring to acknowledge the intensity of reading,
hand, heart, memory and thinking inscribe themselves in an enfleshed and spectral
embrace that can nurture us through challenging times and inspire us towards
possible futures. This is a connection which Cixous has clearly grasped, and there
529
could be no better way to draw together the ideas I have suggested than to close with
her defiant words:
The harpooners or harpists of the ultimate hours are occupied with this
challenge: to fish in the space between the lines beyond the heart for what must
return to the heart, and to make it sound once more. It is this hunger for flesh and
tears, our appetite for living, that, at the tip of forsaken fingers, makes a pencil
grow. (Cixous 2005: 96-97)
References
Aitken, S. (2009). The Emotional Life of Maps. Available at:
http://icaci.org/documents/ICC_proceedings/ICC2009/html/refer/27_2.pdf.
Retrieved on: 27 July 2010
Bakhtin, M. (1996). The Dialogic Imagination. Holquist, M. (ed.). Trans. by C.
Emerson and M. Holquist. Austin: Texas University Press.
Banville, J. (1981). Kepler, in Revolutions Trilogy. London: Picador, 2001.
Banville, J. (1993). Ghosts. London: Picador, 1998.
Benjamin, W. (1969). Theses on the Philosophy of History. In: H. Arendt. (ed.).
Illuminations. Trans. by H. Zohn. New York: Schoken.
Bennett, A. (2004). The History Boys. London: Faber & Faber.
Bennett, J and Connolly, W. E. (2002). Contesting Nature/Culture: The Creative
Character of Thinking. The Journal of Nietzsche Studies 24: 148-163.
Botting, F. (1996). Gothic: The New Critical Idiom. London: Routledge.
Boym, Svetlana. (2001). The Future of Nostalgia. New York, Basic Books.
Braidotti, R. (2008). Metamorphoses: Towards a Materialist Theory of Becoming.
Cambridge: Polity.
Bruno, G. (2002). Atlas of Emotion: Journeys in Art, Architecture, and Film.
London: Verso.
Cixous, H. (1993). Three Steps on the Ladder of Writing. Trans. by S. Cornell and S.
Sellers. New York: Columbia University Press.
Cixous, H. (2005). Stigmata. Trans. by E. Prenowitz, C.A.F. MacGillivray and K.
Cohen. London: Routledge.
Deane, S. (1996). Reading in the Dark. London: Vintage, 1997.
De Certeau, M. (1984). The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley: University of
California Press.
Deleuze, G. (1995). Negotiations 1972-1990. Trans. by M. Joughin. New York:
Columbia UP.
Deleuze, G. (1997). Essays Critical and Clinical. Trans. by D. W. Smith and M. A.
Greco. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Deleuze, G. and Guattari, F. (2008). A Thousand Plateaus. Trans. by B.Massumi.
London: Continuum.
530
Derrida, J. (2005). On TouchingJean-Luc Nancy. Trans. by C. Irizarry. California:
Stanford UP.
Donoghue, D. (2008). On Eloquence. London: Yale University Press.
Doody, M. (1997). The True Story of the Novel. New Jersey: Rutgers University
Press.
Friberg, H., et al. (2007). Recovering Memory: Irish Representations of Past and
Present. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing.
Gordon, A. (2008). Ghostly Matters: Haunting and the Sociological Imagination,
Minneapolis: New University of Minnesota Press.
Hassan, I. (2005). Maps and Stories: a Brief Meditation. Available at:
http://www.ihabhassan.com/maps.htm. Retrieved on: 10 May 2008.
Imhof, R. (1989). John Banville: a Critical Introduction. Dublin, Wolfhound.
Irigaray, L. (ed.). (2004). Key Writings. London: Continuum Publishing.
Irigaray, L. (2008). The Way of Love. London: Continuum Publishing.
Jefferson, A. (2004). Nathalie Sarraute, Fiction and Theory: Questions of
Difference. Cambridge: Cambridge UP.
Kerruish, E. (2009). Interpreting Feeling: Nietzsche on the Emotions and the Self.
MinervaAn Internet Journal of Philosophy 13: 1-27. Available at:
http://www.archive.mic.ul.ie/stephen/vol13/Nietzsche.pdf. Retrieved on: 18
January 2010.
Morrissy, M. (1996). Mother of Pearl. London: Vintage, 1997.
Nabokov, V. (1982). Lectures on Literature, F. Bowers, (ed.). London: Harvest,
Harcourt.Inc.
Neruda, P. (1974). Trans. by B Belitt, (ed.). Toward an Impure Poetry. Pablo
Neruda, Five Decades: A Selection 1925-1970. New York: Grove Press.
Nietzsche, F. (1997). Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future.
Trans. by H. Zimmern. NewYork, Dover.
Nietzsche, F. (2008). The Gay Science. B. Williams. (ed.). Trans. by J. Nauckhoff.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Punter, D. (ed.). (2004). A Companion to the Gothic, Oxford: Blackwell.
Rowe, P. (2009). Going to Poetry. The Reader 3: 74-76.
Sarraute, N, (1963). Tropisms and The Age of Suspicion, Trans. by M. Jolas.
London: John Calder.
Siti, W. (2006). The Novel on Trial. In: The Novel, Volume 1: History, Geography
and Culture. F. Moretti. (ed.). Oxford: Princeton University Press, 94-121.
Smith, A. and Hughes, W. (2003). Empire and the Gothic: The Politics of Genre.
Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan.
Thorel-Cailleteau, S. (2007). The Poetry of Mediocrity. The Novel, Volume 2:
Forms and Themes. F. Moretti. (ed.). Oxford: Princeton University Press, 64-
94.
Wisker, G. (2007). Crossing Liminal Spaces: Teaching the Postcolonial Gothic.
Pedagogy: Critical Approaches to Teaching Literature, Language,
Composition, and Culture 7, 3: 401-425.
531
Aleksandar B. Nedeljkovi
Kragujevac, Serbia
[email protected]
MORAL EQUATIONS OF THE KILLING OF HARRY LIME IN THE
THIRD MAN
Abstract In the much-celebrated British 1949 movie, based on a scenario by
Graham Greene, The Third Man, the main villain, Harry Lime (played by Orson
Welles) is shot and killed in a famous denouement scene in the sewage tunnels
under the war-damaged Vienna. We analyze what happens in those last few minutes
of Harry Limes life, and in the film as a whole (and in Greenes subsequent book,
the novella The Third Man). We find a carefully measured moral balance between
friendship and crime, responsibility and evil, and other ethical factors; a
purposefully built moral equation. This conclusion leads us also to speculate that
perhaps in thousands of other works of art, from trivial to highest-valued, there are
similar moral equations, in fact very firm and deliberate, deeply rooted in the
Christian civilization of the West, even though the casual reader, or film-watcher,
might not notice them.
Key words: Graham Greene, Carol Reed, film The Third Man, moral equations
1. The unfortunate probable consequence of reading this
Perhaps the reader should be better advised not to read this paper, and here is
why:
Knowing the narrative strategy, which we are about to reveal, will let our
reader see through the manipulative narrative strategies involved in the setting up of
moral equations in many movies, and, so, he or she will never again be able to watch
such a movie with innocent eyes; thousands of movies (and, similarly, books) will
become, in this sense, transparent to him, he will understand how they were
constructed, and he will not be able to enjoy them. Specifically, our reader will
never again be able to enjoy the film The Third Man as directed by Carol Reed. This
our text will very probably spoil the fun, even in books and films that have yet to be
made, the future ones. This makes our paper a sort of permanent super-spoiler. So,
maybe it would be wiser not to read this paper.
2. Moral equations, what they are, in novels and films generally
Moral equations are of crucial importance in any genre, realistic or fantastic,
and in any medium, including literature, but in film they are of especially great
532
importance. They are closely related to, but not identical with, the ancient notion of
poetic justice (Latin: justitia poetica). Basically they exist so that each protagonist
will get what he deserves, but also, what the general moral reference-frame of our
civilization requires; and this will contribute and assist towards the desired (by the
film-makers, and by the audience) overall moral effect; ultimately, the audience will
be satisfied, pleased, but also, perhaps, will be taught a moral lesson. This moral-
instruction, ethical-guidance function of film is extremely important in our rather
atheistic and rather non-literary times, when most people in the West and in many
other countries do not get their guidance either from going to church or from reading
books. Dulce, et utile.
The principle sounds simple, but its application in practice is quite complex,
branching out into many extensions and combinations, with many nuances, which
change and evolve over time; some talented writers of books, and of scenarios, may
have an intuitive grasp of this, a spontaneous feel, from the heart, but some true
professionals probably look at the job also in another manner with cold,
calculating eyes, very deliberately and coolly, under the watchful eyes of the
producers. The audience are supposed to remain blissfully ignorant of this.
3. Are we discussing film, or literature, here
In the much-celebrated British 1949 black-and-white movie, The Third Man, a
classic, based on a text written by Graham Greene but with major input from Carol
Reed and probably some input from the producers Alexander Korda and David O.
Selznick, and directed by Carol Reed, the main villain, Harry Lime (played by
Orson Welles) is shot and killed in a famous denouement scene in the sewage
tunnels under the war-damaged Vienna. That scene, actually the moral equation of
it, is what our paper is mainly about.
1
Later, after the film achieved a huge, planetary success, Graham Greene
published the text, as a novella. So is this our paper about film art, or, about literary
art?
The answer is: both; they are, in this case, inseparable.
The actual truth about this entwining of the two media is a bit complicated. In
his Preface to one of the many editions, Graham Greene (1904-1991) himself gives
this testimony:
1
The film is legendary also for its wonderful, nostalgic, melancholy music (known as The
Third Man melody or the Harry Lime theme; the soundtrack was recorded in London), played by
the Viennese musician Anton Karas on a zither; the legend has it (at least in Serbia, at that time, this
was believed by many.) that a number of residents of Vienna, depressed and poor in the post-war years,
killed themselves after listening to that music. Interestingly, during all the six years of Second World
War, Karas was a loyal soldier of Adolf Hitler, in the anti-aircraft units, and for this he was never
accused or prosecuted in any way.
533
The Third Man was never written to be read but only to be seen. To me
it is almost impossible to write a film play without first writing a story. The
Third Man, therefore, though never intended for publication, had to start as a
story before those apparently interminable transformations from one treatment
to another. On these treatments Carol Reed and I worked closely together,
covering so many feet of carpet a day, acting scenes at each other. (Greene: 9-
10)
As destiny would have it, The Third Man turned out to be Greenes greatest
success. Twenty two years ago, todays full professor of English literature at
Belgrade University, Dr. Zoran Paunovi, wrote, in his M.A. work:
Neither is Graham Greene the only example of a writer whose reputation
and status were influenced by film (which is, undoubtedly, the most popular art
form of the 20
th
century), nor is The Third Man (1950) Greenes only work
transferred to the movie screen. A number of Greenes novels have been filmed
starting with the Stamboul Train, and including also the novels The Honorary
Consul and The Human Factor. Some of those films were failures, and some
were quite successful, but, without doubt, the greatest fame went, quite
deservedly, to the film made by Carol Reed, The Third Man, the only story
which Greene wrote specifically for a movie. In the same package with money
and fame, this film brought to the writer something which he most definitely
did not want: The Third Man became, and not only for the movie audiences,
one of the first thoughts that come to mind when the name of Graham Greene
is mentioned. (Paunovi: 65)
2
We think that this is still so, today; and, probably, just as Mary Shelley will
never step out of Frankensteins shadow, so will Graham Green never separate from
the moving, slanted shadow of Harry Lime.
If we examine exactly what happens in those last few minutes of Harry Limes
life, and in the film as a whole (and in Greenes subsequent book), we see a
carefully measured moral balance between friendship and crime, responsibility and
evil, and other ethical factors; a purposefully built moral equation. This leads us to
2
We translated this paragraph into English, for our purposes here; the law required, then, that all
M.A. works be in Serbian. The Serbian original is: Niti je Gream Grin usamljeni primer pisca na iji je
ugled i status uticao film, nesumnjivo najpopularnija umetnost dvadesetog veka, niti je Trei ovek
(The Third Man, 1950), jedino njegovo delo preneto na filmski ekran. Veliki broj Grinovih romana je
ekranizovan poev od Voza za Istanbul, pa do romana Poasni konzul i Ljudski faktor. Bilo je meu
njima i promaaja i vrlo uspelih filmova, no najveu slavu sasvim zaslueno uiva delo Kerola Rida,
Trei ovek, jedina pria koju je Grin napisao specijalno za film. Zajedno sa slavom i novcem, film je
piscu doneo i neto to ovaj ni u kom sluaju nije eleo: Trei ovek je postao, i to ne samo kada se radi
o irokoj publici, jedna od prvih asocijacija koja se javlja na pomen imena Greama Grina.
534
speculate that in thousands of other works of art, from trivial to highest-valued, there
are similar moral equations, in fact very firm and deliberate, deeply rooted in the
Christian civilization of the West, even when the casual reader, or film-watcher,
might think that the plot is propelled by pure accident and coincidence.
4. Digression: the moral justification of beating them in a Bruce Lee movie
To turn momentarily away from The Third Man, here is an example of a moral
equation, much more simple, elementary, a nave one. In a Bruce Lee fighting
movie, a girl, peaceful, good, pretty, and definitely not rich, is selling flowers in the
street. Comes a group of bad young boys, bullies, and they start to harass and insult
her, toss her flowers, etc. But then comes, walking, by pure accident arriving just
then, exactly there, a character played by Bruce Lee, and tells them not to do that. At
first they look at him and at each other in surprise and disbelief: is he suicidal? To
tangle with them? Then they attack him. But he is a master of fighting skills, and
soon they are horizontal, beaten up, properly punished for their evil doings. The
audience cheer for him and are happy. But that is a minor episode at the beginning
of the movie. Bruce Lee walks away, to much more important things in his destiny
(in this film), and all is good, and the flowers incident is soon forgotten. In reality,
this would probably not end at that, the hoodlums would recover, stand up again,
and (now that Bruce Lee is gone) would attack the girl, perhaps there would be
police, arrests, lawyers, Bruce Lee would be summoned by the court to testify, the
bullies lawyers would resolutely claim that Bruce Lee in fact brutally attacked the
peaceful good boys first, without any provocation or cause or right; in
consequence, Bruce Lee would be sued, then maybe the witnesses would be
intimidated, etc., a whole sordid mess of real life. Lawyers would find fifty ways to
obstruct and sabotage justice, and to earn extra money for themselves, in a case like
that. Thats real. But it would spoil the fun.
Both sides in the fight, in such a film, ought to be Asian (because Bruce Lee is
Asian), so there will be no question of racism, black-vs.-white, etc.; the movie
should remain politically correct. That is also part of the strategy.
5. Another Digression: why they confess so easily, in a typical
Hercule Poirot episode
Here is another example, less nave: consider how in Agatha Christie, the
detective Hercule Poirot often induces the bad guy, the criminal, near the end of the
story, to become emotional, and to confess (in an outburst of bitterness or
resentment) the crime. This seals the story satisfactorily. If the culprit should
lawyer up and totally refuse to admit anything, the accusations (made by Poirot),
however brilliant, would have to be dragged through the courts, the public
prosecutor would take over the case, Poirot would be reduced to a mere witness, or
535
illegal busybody who had no right to interfere, perhaps he needed a search warrant
but did not have it, he would be sued, lawyers of the perpetrator might claim that
Poirots tampering with the evidence made the entire evidence inadmissible in
court, etc. the whole real-life thing, definitely messy, enormously long, boring,
sordid, and unsatisfying.
6. Third digression: why did Jamie Lee Curtis drop the sub-machinegun
down the wooden steps
In the 1994 film True Lies, where Arnold Schwarzenegger plays a secret agent
and Jamie Lee Curtis plays his wife, they sort-of together fight against the Arab
terrorists (Muslim extremists) who plan to detonate a nuclear bomb in an American
city. The moment comes when the two descend into the very den of the terrorists;
there, a Russian-made nuclear bomb is on the floor; our big male hero starts to kill
the baddies, as expected. Then his wife drops a sub-machinegun (a rather small
one; it could be called an automatic pistol) and the pistol tumbles down the stairs,
which are made of rough wooden planks. But, amazingly, the trigger of the pistol
remains pressed, somehow stuck in the firing position (!) and during the fall it is
shooting and shooting automatically, and hitting, and killing the bad guys! This is
extremely improbable. And if it by some miracle could happen, the gun would
probably shoot her, first, because she is very near. However, this shooting event fits
perfectly into the moral equation. The man, the husband, is carrying the main burden
of the fight; but his wife, the female, could not be (for reasons of gender-political
correctness) just a useless follower; it was imperative that a female should also
contribute, in the fight. The inverted case, in which she would descend among the
Arabs and do the main fighting, while he would remain on top of the stairs and only
accidentally drop the automatic pistol and then watch with a horrified face as it
tumbles down would have been unthinkable. As it is, reason tells us that her loose
gun might also have killed her husband, perhaps, but that, too, would have been
unthinkable, and it would utterly ruin this part-thriller-part-comedy film. So she had
to also kill some enemies of America. But the makers of the movie did not want to
present her with directly bloodied hands, it would be un-ladylike; nor to let her take
the dominant role in the fight; so, the gun itself, by itself, shoots the enemies, but the
woman who dropped it also wins some moral points, with the happy audience, some
credit (but not too much) in the good fight. This is a clear example of moral
equations, plus gender-political correctness, at work. It may seem trivial but it is not,
if the same principles are used in the making of thousands of other films and in
prose works, perhaps.
536
7. Academic status of The Third Man today
In the Critical Quarterly magazine of Manchester University Press about thirty
years ago, Miriam Allott writes that Ph.D. theses labeled The novels of Graham
Greene burden the shelves of university libraries the world over
3
and she adds that
Discussion frequently modulates into engagement with the hugely
paradoxical question of his enormous success. No really good or serious writer,
it has at times been felt, could possibly be as popular as that. the
unbridgeable gulf between popular and serious writing, believing that to be
popular it is necessary to be frivolous and vulgar and that in any event there
can be no changing of ones spots. The serious author cant write badly enough
to become a best-seller and the popular author cant make himself write well
enough to win his coveted succs destime. Our last popular-and-serious
writer, it is said sufficiently often, was Dickens. (Allott: 9-12)
Times have changed, definitely, in the sense that this post-Victorian British
class-consciousness (in the Marxist sense) which she describes, this separation into
upper and lower social classes of writers, and readers, by now has evaporated,
largely; it now sounds like an oddity, an old and forgotten burden. (But it does partly
explain the low academic status of science fiction genre in those times: it was
popular. Also, it places in brilliant light the puzzling question as to why Greene
again and again spoke dismissingly of his own popular works, including The Third
Man, as mere entertainments there was a strong reason: he had to demonstrate,
especially to the academic circles, that he is an upper-social-class, high-quality
writer who despises even his own popular works, works loved by masses. It meant
something like: I am elite, crme de la crme, here in this England, really, I am
intellectually and socially far above my own popular works and above those millions
of low-brow readers. Such a cheap gimmick, but, apparently, it worked.)
8. The collective decision-making
Todays critic Kim Newman says that a crucial part of the dialogue on the
Prater wheel was written by Welles on the spur of the moment as an addition to
3
Which reminds us of the academic status of Danilo Ki in Serbia today, in 2011: about 3,000
articles, essays, reviews, dissertations etc., already published, in our growing science of Ki-ology!
Authors of similar but perhaps more modest status are Borislav Peki, and Milorad Pavi with his
Dictionary of the Khazars, and Ivo Andri with his Bridge on the Drina, etc. We encountered a claim
that, by now (year 2011) about 225 serious academic studies about Samuel Beckett have been
published so that we can speak of Beckett-ology (Vlaji) as a branch of Literaturwissenschaft. So
there are still such literary caryatides available for academic study, filling many shelves, though
perhaps partly electronic shelves, today; colossal figures which no one can call trivial, which is why a
researcher is well-advised to turn to them from time to time.
537
Greenes script, filling out the character and perhaps securing the pictures lasting
greatness (Newman: 246). The film, really shot in Vienna and only four years after
the war, got one Oscar (for photography) and was nominated for two more Oscars
(for directing and editing).
Greene located his novella in the precarious, smashed, dreary and partly
subterranean Vienna, as the literary historian Andrew Sanders says in his Short
Oxford History of English Literature, because the Second World War sharpened
certain of Greenes fictional perspectives and preoccupations and it is generally
recognized to be among his finest work (Sanders: 583).
Of more direct interest to us, in this paper, is the statement of Graham Greene
himself, in the same Preface to The Third Man: One of the very few major disputes
between Carol Reed and myself concerned the ending, and he has been proved
triumphantly right. (Greene: 11) From Greenes own testimony, and from other
sources, we get a firm impression that this film was scripted with major, and
carefully considered and argued, input from the film director; and there was the
influence of Alexander Korda; so, Greenes greatest work (in the sense of: largest
success) was not only an inseparable mix of film-and-literature, literature-and-film,
it was also a collective work, to some extent. But then film is a collective work,
inevitably, although in some distant future that, too, might change, if computers
available to a lonely artist become much more powerful than they are today. This
film, The Third Man, certainly was a collective work, in 1949.
9. The crime, confession, and shooting of the villain in The Third Man
Here we, finally, come to the point of our research.
In The Third Man, Harry Lime, the villain, had to die at the end, because the
court case against him, especially in the difficult conditions of the immediately-post-
war Vienna, would have dragged the film into complications and postponements of
the denouement. And if the Russians caught him and immediately executed him by
firing squad, without much-a-do, which was their manner with such
4
, the film would
acquire a propagandistic and political character. So he had to die among his own,
English-speaking folks, but, in some dramatic and immediate manner. No lawyers.
But first he had to confess.
The scene with the Prater wheel, which takes the writer Holly Martins and the
criminal Harry Lime 65 meters high up in the air above the liberated but also
occupied-by-Allies Vienna, with citizens down on the ground supposedly looking
like insignificant dots (which is a bit of exaggeration: people do not really look that
small, from that distance), is the scene in which the villain practically admits that he
4
Serbs knew of this, and the Serbian word in 1945 for such Russian instant justice was
(pristrelyati) which translates as to do a quick-little-and-insignificant shooting by
firing squad.
538
did sell, for profit, watered-down penicillin, in non-sterile ampoules, because of
which many children died after suffering terribly in hospitals. The use of Prater
wheel, which was for many years one of the most famous (if not the most famous)
symbols and tourist destinations in Vienna, for this dramatic purpose, is very
intelligent and creative, as part of the narrative strategy. But of course Harry Lime
would not have confessed so easily to a police inspector, for instance. Or to any
stranger. So, the confidante had to be a good, trusted, close, long-time friend. This
makes the confession more probable: we are more likely to believe, and accept, that
the criminal would so easily confess.
In retrospect, then, we see that Greene had to introduce such a character, as
Holly Martins is, into the story; a believable confidante; so that (as in Hercule Poirot
stories, and in a number of Sherlock Holmes stories in fact), the villain would
confess. One of the main pillars of the story, Holly Martins, was needed, in the
narrative strategy of the story, and had to be introduced, for this reason.
But in the legendary final sequence of the chase in the sewage tunnels under
Vienna, first we see that Harry Lime shoots and kills a pursuing police officer. This,
in the moral equation, now gives full right to the police to shoot and kill him: in self-
defense, more or less. And they do shoot. The leading policeman, Calloway, fires,
once, and hits Harry Lime with that one bullet.
Actually, the ranks of the police seem to thin out and diminish rather
miraculously. Hundreds of them encircle Harry Lime, initially; then small groups
remain in sight; then somehow only two or three, precisely the ones already best
known to the audience. Harry Lime is not shot by some anonymous uniform, as
we might say today, not by a faceless nameless soldat (soldier, in German, and in
Russian, and in several other languages), but, by Calloway.
And the police, in this action, only wound, not kill, Harry Lime.
If the police killed him immediately, it would have been the victory of a large,
impersonal armed force over one lonely man (the criminal) on the run. However
guilty he is, and however justified the police are to shoot, it would not have the
quality of personal moral judgment. Besides, if a large, impersonal social
mechanism is crushing a lonely fugitive, we instinctively tend to side with him; that
would have spoiled the desired moral effect.
5
Oddly, a civilian, the writer Holly Martins, now takes a pistol, from the limp
hand of the dead policeman, and proceeds to chase, alone (!) the wounded Harry
Lime. He did not shoot at Harry, yet. The police have by now been reduced,
miraculously, to one man, Calloway, who allows Holly Martins to proceed forward
5
This is why the baddies in Die Hard films and in many similar movies get nabbed by a quirky
loner, an undisciplined, odd, personally motivated detective, fantastically brave and enduring, whose
superior officers have no clue of what is really going on, while he disobeys or ignores much of what
they are ordering him to do or not do; that is emotionally satisfying; the bad guy is not defeated by
battalions of professionally cool, vastly superior, rich, perfectly organized police. Not in such films.
The final fight is often between the leading, most evil villain, who is also the last gangster standing, and
this peculiar, rebellious detective, and it is very personal.
539
alone, almost like an envoy or best combatant. Calloway, very British in appearance
and manners, a tall man with small moustache, now lags behind, and seems to doze
off, as if lost in thought, or hypnotized, for quite a while. He is gazing, almost
motionless, at his dead colleague on the ground. Time passes.
Thats where the construction shows through, rather drastically: this long, silent
interval of meditation by Calloway. An interval totally unlikely.
This is where plausibility is sacrificed for the sake of a desirable moral
equation.
Graham Greene himself was obviously aware of this glaring, vast
implausibility, and so, in the (subsequently) published version (the novella) he
defends this point: Martins said: Let me come in front. I dont think hell shoot at
me, and I want to talk to him. Get flat against the wall. He wont shoot at me.
(Greene: 115) But this is not so in the movie. And, ultimately, what Lubomir
Dolezhel in his Heterocosmica calls authenticating power rides in this case (we
believe) more with the movie than with the novella: so, ultimately we are talking
here about a film. More. And, about the literary work, less.
Harry Lime, wounded, climbs, with great difficulty, up an iron staircase and
stretches only his fingers (another legendary scene, in the 101
st
minute of the film,
four minutes before the end) through an iron grid, a street grating, up, into the higher
moral regions which are no longer reachable for him. Then he turns his head. His
friend Holly Martins has caught up, pistol in hand, and is within reach of him. What
now? The police, a huge number of them, cannot be more than fifty steps (or so)
away. Harry Lime looks his friend in the eye, and, with a sad and somber expression
of the face, nods once, twice.
This means, Kill me. Behind this meaningful nod are three further
implications: Kill me because I am guilty and I do deserve to die for the crime I
committed, Kill me because I do not want to be dying for days in some hospital,
wounded as I am, or to survive but only to spend the rest of my life in jail, or to be
ultimately sentenced to death; all-in-all, it is better I go now, and, Kill me because
it is better and more proper and honorable to die from the hand of a friend, my
confidante, who has the right to judge me, and who basically had the right to betray
me, than to be shot or grabbed by this angry mob of faceless cops.
This is one of the most overlooked, but most important, nods, in all history of
film; it condenses the moral equations of this film, and book, into one slight motion,
slow, minimal, perhaps two seconds of time.
So, Holly Martins kills him.
10. Again, why from a friends hand
If a crowd of police rushed in, guns blazing, they would surely hit and kill
Harry Lime, but it would be an opportunity for him to shoot back, too. They did not
seem to have any armored bullet-proofed vests on them, nor helmets, nothing like
the American SWAT teams of today. It was a rather British-style, old-times
540
pursuit. In fact, Harry might have shot a number of them, to the great shame of such
a police force (or military). And, very clearly, he, a professional gangster now,
presumably practiced with guns, could have shot his friend, Holly Martins. But that
would be a sordid end. Or, Harry Lime could have escaped, in the night, in the maze
of tunnels. But that would frustrate the poetic justice, and the film would seem to
teach the people (the young, especially) that it is good, and desirable, and profitable,
to be a gangster and to cause the death of hundreds of children. Again
unsatisfactory; in fact, unacceptable. This villain had to be punished appropriately,
sternly.
Harry Lime
6
, apparently, did not want to shoot his friend Martins. So this is a
moment of his profound, moral transformation, his rise to a kind of moral greatness,
after all: aware of the vastness of his crimes, he allows Martins to shoot him. But he
would, perhaps, not allow some faceless stranger to do the same.
Possibility of escape was cut off by a rather improbable trajectory of the police
bullet (Calloways): it hit Harry Lime exactly in the lower spine, paralyzing his both
legs. So he drags himself up the metal stairwell, and up to the grating, by a huge
effort of his arms and hands alone. In the rush of the movie denouement, the
audience are not likely to ponder about the small probability of such a (dramatically
effective) hit from a pistol. Of course it is contrived. But cinematically effective.
There is a strong possibility, in the film, that the last nod of Harry Lime also
contained an unspoken suggestion about the future destiny of Anna Schmidt,
something like It is all right if you now take care of her, she is yours now.
Obviously she could not be the girl of both of them; a sex-partner of both; it would
have been unthinkable, then. One of the two men had to be totally, radically,
removed from the relationship. But the audience probably feels this, even today, on
a subconscious level, rather than telling this to themselves explicitly. This
subconscious feel would have been ruined and catastrophically trivialized if Harry
Lime, dying, said any specific words about it.
11. Gender aspect: why not shot by Anna, and why does she
demonstratively walk by Holly Martins
Now, changing into the discourse of the gender studies, we must conclude that
the final shooter had to be a male, not female, because women were not expected, in
those times, to do such things; it would be un-lady-like, and unconvincing to the
then-audiences; and, besides, the woman-man friendship and then confrontation and
shooting would have potential love-hate, or sex, implications; this would have
6
The name perhaps hinting at slime which would make it a symbolic name, meaning a bad
man, un-ethical. This was suggested to us by a young man, Adrian Nedeljkovi, who watched the
movie but did not read the book. Greene, though, insisted on a quite different explanation of the
surname Lime (Paunovi: 67).
541
blurred the moral issue. There is also the question of chaperone: who knows what a
young woman, unmarried, might do, without an older woman beside her, in the city,
at night, with some man this would make her, in the post-Victorian morality, a
problematic woman, potentially immoral. So, for a number of reasons, Anna
Schmidt (played by Alida Valli), the beautiful, intelligent, liberal young woman
(apparently undamaged by war) could not descend into the tunnels and shoot the
villain. It would have wrecked the film. Besides, Anna was, previously, Harry
Limes girlfriend, or one of his girls; she is no saint, rather she is one of many poor
black-marketeers in the city; this makes her technically a criminal, although we may
presume that she did not initially know of his crime with the watered-down
penicillin. Before the penicillin scam was revealed to her, she, apparently, loved
Harry Lime. In Greenes literary work, the novella, the Prater dialogue between
Holly Martins and Harry Lime is partly about her:
I was at your funeral.
That was pretty smart of me, wasnt it?
Not so smart for your girl. She was there too in tears.
Shes a good little thing, Harry said. Im very fond of her.
( )
She hasnt told them anything about you.
Shes a good little thing, Harry repeated with satisfaction and pride.
She loves you.
Well, I gave her a good time while it lasted.
And I love her.
Thats fine, old man. Be kind to her. Shes worth it. Im glad. He gave
the impression of having arranged everything to everyones satisfaction. And
you can help to keep her mouth shut. Not that she knows anything that
matters. (Greene: 103-106)
But there is a very famous, and rather odd, scene, in the last, 105
th
minute of
the film. Before it, we see, in a peaceful sunny day, the very modest but decent
burial of Harry Lime. Present are only eight people: Martins, Anna, Calloway, and
five disinterested men who work professionally every day, all day, at the cemetery: a
priest, his two assistants, plus two indifferent and casual gravediggers.
The priest seems to condemn the deceased man: he does his duty, the Christian
religious ritual, in a perfunctory manner, off-hand, grumpily and obviously without
good will. He seems to be passing a final moral judgment on Harry Lime. But, in
taking this attitude, the priest in fact marginalizes himself, too, and perhaps the
entire role of religion. His attitude may mean that he dislikes to bury such an evil
man in a respectful manner, or, perhaps, that the entire priestly job of religious
ceremony at burials has become irrelevant in our world, a meaningless formality, no
matter whom they are burying, although this was probably not what Carol Reed and
Graham Greene meant here; but the film The Third Man is deeply atheistic, non-
542
religious, in any case. And yet, the denouement, with Harry Limes downfall and
capitulation, may be a reaffirmation of underlying basic Christian moral values.
But this final scene happens in a very civilized environment, at a great,
spacious, neat cemetery in Vienna, and perhaps there will be a headstone with Harry
Limes name, later, some day, on his grave, although we do not see it yet (we see
only the rectangular hole in the ground; too small to be a collective, mass grave for
the anonymous dead). Basically, only the main persecutor of Harry Lime (Calloway)
and Harrys two best remaining friends in the world (Holly Martins, and Anna
Schmidt) attend this quick, no-sorrow funeral.
Then Anna leaves, and the final minute of the film begins. It has moral, and
also gender, implications.
In the very long, perfectly straight, street-like alley of the cemetery, Martins
gets into Calloways jeep, and they drive past Anna, and overtake her by a hundred
meters or more, but then Martins gets out of the jeep, and waits for Anna, in a
friendly stance, presumably hoping to escort her home, maybe still liking or loving
her, or just wanting to be her friend in a difficult time; but she pointedly,
demonstratively ignores him, and walks right by him, without a word or a look; this
might be understood to mean, Why did you kill my man?, or, Why did you kill
your friend?, or, most likely, I do not entirely condemn you for killing him, but I
will not have anything to do, any more, with the whole thing. Or her snub of him
might mean: I do not want anyone to think that we betrayed and destroyed Harry
Lime so that we, us two, could get together, or, even (but this is a distant
possibility), I will not be given by one man to another man, as a piece of property;
my ex-boyfriend can not give me to you. Or, if we want to go really far with this
line of thinking, she might be already pregnant, with Harry Limes child, etc.
Definitely, though, her walk affirms her as an independent person, who,
although a woman, can so distance herself from a male; this was very important and
big, in the time when post-Victorian view of female gender still lingered around
(and post-slavery attitude to blacks still existed in the United States, and Hitlers
kind of patriarchal domination over women still reverberated through Europe).
Martins, a man, cannot control her, a woman; he can only hope for her attention, and
stand and wait very decently; she is upright, free, equal, and not weak or servile to
the males, in this new, free Europe; that was probably the main point and the main
reason why this scene was so adored by the audiences. Her attitude is certainly a part
also of the over-all moral equation, although a somewhat more enigmatic part, open
to many possible interpretations.
12. Why a woman at all? Why is Anna there?
Narrative strategy (and the realities of the marketing strategy, too) dictated that
in the film there must be something for the women, as some producers, and
publishers, tend to say. The female audience wants to see a female in the movie, and,
in modern times, the woman ought to be doing something relevant, too, not just
543
sitting and looking pretty. Besides, the presence of Anna makes both the men who
are close to her (Holly Martins, and Harry Lime) more manly, more masculine; she
provides the gender-contrast; they are, in a way, struggling for the love of a young
woman, so they are reconfirmed as real, true males. And, finally, without her the
movie would have been much more drab and flat, simply unattractive. It seems that
Alida Valli as Anna in the movie is actually much more beautiful than Anna in the
novella (It wasnt a beautiful face, Greene: 40). That was a good film-making
move, smart and effective in the more-visual medium.
13. Conclusion
Moral equations, we now know, are there, in the film and subsequent
eponymous novella The Third Man, equations deeply rooted in the Western
civilization as it then was, although the casual reader, or film-watcher, might think
that the plot is propelled to the end by the genuine logic of real life plus a quantity of
pure accident and coincidence. We have shown that the denouement scene of the
death of Harry Lime is, to a serious extent, artificially constructed, against
plausibility and real-life logic, just so that a set of moral equations should be
satisfied. This was part of the over-all narrative strategy, collectively worked out by
the strong team of the films makers. We have also mentioned, in passing, some
reasons to believe that in many other films, perhaps in thousands of films, similar
moral equations may have been utilized and followed. This may allow us to see
through these works of art, those already made and similar ones that will be made
in the future; we will be able to understand and criticize their contrived inner
construction, their secret ethical architecture, but, it may also be a major spoiler,
denying to us the possibility to ever again watch movies with nave and happy eyes.
References:
Allott, M. (1978). Graham Greene and the Way We Live Now. In: Critical
Quarterly, Manchester University Press, vol. 20, Number 3, Autumn 1978.
Greene, G. (1983 edition). The Third Man, and, The Fallen Idol. London, Penguin
Books.
Newman, K (2008), The Third Man. In: S. J. Schneider, general editor. 1001
Movies You Must See before You Die. 5
th
edition. London: Cassell Illustrated
Quintessence Books.
Paunovi, Z. (1989). Motiv hajke u zabavnim romanima Greama Grina,
magistarski rad. Univerzitet u Beogradu, Filoloki fakultet, mentor dr Svetozar
Ignjaevi.
Sanders, A. (2000). The Short Oxford History of English Literature. 2
nd
edition.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
544
Vlaji, Milan, Beket, novo itanje, in: daily newspaper Blic, Belgrade, Serbia,
27
th
June 2011, p. 20, he refers to the book: Predrag Todorovi, Beket,
published in Belgrade by Slubeni glasnik in 2010.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anton_Karas
545
Jasna Poljak Rehlicki/Ljubica Matek
Osijek, Croatia; Osijek, Croatia
[email protected]; [email protected]
DESIRE IN HEMINGWAY'S THE SUN ALSO RISES AND FITZGERALD'S
THE GREAT GATSBY
Abstract The concept of desire is complex and has been dealt with extensively
within the field of psychoanalysis. Two most prominent psychoanalysts, Sigmund
Freud and Jacques Lacan, have defined desire in different ways, as predominantly
sexual and predominantly cultural, respectively. The aim of the paper is to present
how each of these two concepts plays off in literature, more precisely in the novels
of Ernest Hemingway and Francis Scott Fitzgerald. While Hemingway's The Sun
Also Rises depicts Freudian, sexual desire as the motivating force of one of the main
protagonists, Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby focuses on desire as a culturally
determined factor in human life.
Key words: desire, psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud, Jacques Lacan, Hemingway,
Fitzgerald
1. Sexual desire and Lady Brett Ashley
Taking one of the dictionary definitions of the term desire as a starting point,
one learns that desire is a conscious impulse toward something that promises
enjoyment or satisfaction in its attainment (Desire). Freuds notions on desire
cannot be defined so straightforwardly, not just because this concept involves the
wholeness of human psychophysical development, but also because Freuds ideas
about the human psyche altered through the stages of his work. However, in his
work Beyond the Pleasure Principle (1920), Freud explains the notion of the
pleasure principle whose function is similar to this simplified definition of desire
and our concept of it:
we believe that any given process originates in an unpleasant state of
tension and thereupon determines for itself such a path that its ultimate issue
coincides with a relaxation of this tension, i.e., the avoidance of pain or with
production of pleasure. (1990a: 639)
Although the pleasure principle dominates the operation of the mental
apparatus from the very beginning (Freud 1990b: 772), it also reigns supreme in
the id (Freud 1990e: 702). The id is the part of the human psyche that we are born
with and is entirely submerged into the unconscious. To Freud, the id represents the
546
primitive mind (like that one of an infant). It is the obscure inaccessible part of our
personality (Freud 1990d: 873), connected to the irrational and emotional, and the
source of sexual energy. The pleasure principle dominates a child during the pre-
Oedipal stage of life, when it is entirely dependent on its parents (mostly the
mother). By entering the Oedipal stage, a child must learn to repress his incestuous
desire (Eagleton 1983: 155), abandon the anarchic, sadistic, aggressive, self-
involved and remorselessly pleasure-seeking (Eagleton 1983: 154) stage and adjust
to the reality principle in order to become a citizen who could be relied upon to
do a hard days work (Eagleton 1983: 154). Therefore, Freudian desire is connected
to some kind of loss (Klages 2006: 77).
Ernest Hemingway in his first novel The Sun Also Rises (1926) depicted an
unforgettable character - Lady Brett Ashley. She is an extremely attractive woman,
and most of the men in the novel (Jake Barnes, Robert Cohn, Michael Campbell,
and Pedro Romero) either try to seduce her, or are seduced by her. Although she is
engaged to Campbell, Brett and Jake have a special relationship, and we can argue
that both are somewhat in love with each other. However, they cannot consummate
their love, not just because of Jakes war injury, which left him impotent, but also
because Brett is a type of a woman who cannot commit to only one man. Through a
selection of several key passages, we will try to illustrate that her actions indeed
correspond to the notion of Freudian sexual, libidinal desire, because for Freud, all
pleasure is sexual pleasure (Klages 2006: 65).
The narrator in The Sun Also Rises, Jake Barnes, offers a description of
Bretts physical appearance in only a few words that are, however, packed with
meaning and images: Brett was damned good-looking. . . . She was built with
curves like the hull of a racing yacht, and you missed no of it with that wool jersey
(Hemingway 1954: 22). Her behavior as well as her stunning looks, place her in the
company of many different men, from a Count to the nigger drummer
(Hemingway 1954: 62), whose company and admiration Brett very much enjoys. In
spite of her feminine curves, Brett changed one part of her body that she could her
hair. She likes to wear a short bob and on top of it, she likes to wear a hat. She
started all that (Hemingway 1954: 22), Jake comments. In that sense, we learn that
Brett is no ordinary woman, and she wants to make everybody sure of that at the
first glance. When Pedro Romero, the nineteen year old Spanish bullfighter falls in
love with her and wants her to grow her hair long in order to make her look more
womanly (Hemingway 1954: 242), Brett chases him off, proving that she will not
and cannot change for anybody.
When it comes to her behavior, Brett acts more like a man than a woman, let
alone a lady, as her title would suggest. She socializes only with men, drinks
heavily, and even refers to herself as a man: I say, give a chap a brandy and a soda
(Hemingway 1954: 32). Also, Brett is promiscuous; she does not just enjoy
admiration on the part of other men and flirt, but she seduces them constantly.
Although aware of her behavior, she does not care what others will think or say
about her:
547
Dancing, I looked over Bretts shoulder and saw Cohn, standing at the
bar, still watching her.
Youve made a new one there, I said to her.
Dont talk about it. Poor chap. I never knew it till just now.
Oh, well, I said. I suppose you like to add them up.
Dont talk like a fool.
You do.
Oh, well. What if I do? (Hemingway 1954: 22-23)
When it comes to Bretts personality, she is completely dominated by the
pleasure principle which means that she searches instant gratification. Every idea,
wish, or desire she has, has to be fulfilled immediately. For example, when Jake and
Brett are dancing at the beginning of the novel, all of a sudden she feels bored and
leaves the bar, not even saying goodbye to the friends she was with (Hemingway
1954: 23). When there is no taxi to drive them to the hotel, she goes to the bar next
door for a drink because she has no patience to wait for it (Hemingway 1954: 24).
That same night, after Jake and Brett parted, she shows up at his hotel at half-past
four because she Just wanted to see you [Jake] (Hemingway 1954: 33). One can
notice from these examples that the id (the selfish and pleasure-oriented part of the
psyche) tends to dominate in Bretts case, which consequently makes her
inconsiderate of other peoples feelings. There is a scene in the novel that illustrates
just how much Brett cares and respects nobody but herself and thinks only how to
indulge herself: The count was looking at Brett across the table under the gaslight.
She was smoking a cigarette and flickering the ashes on the rug. She saw me notice
it. I say, Jake, I dont want to ruin your rugs. Cant you give a chap and ash-tray?
(Hemingway 1954: 57).
The situation is pretty similar concerning Bretts libido. When she wants do
be kissed she practically orders Jake to do that (Hemingway 1954: 27). In addition,
she sleeps with every man she wants, in attempt to satisfy her sexual appetite. Even
though Brett is not interested in Cohn, she goes with him to San Sebastian for a
couple of days. After the trip, she does everything to avoid him. Although Cohn is
now in love with her, looking at her with amazement and following her around like
a poor bloody steer (Hemingway 1954: 142), it is obvious that she does not want to
see him again, that she is even sick of him (Hemingway 1954: 181) so ultimately,
she becomes extremely rude to him. Their affair presented an unimportant event in
Bretts life which she proves by saying: He cant believe it didnt mean anything.
(Hemingway 1954: 181). Her actions in treating other men in the novel are similar
to those of a spoiled brat - a striking similarity in the pronunciation of her name.
Most of the time Brett is driven by impulses and it indeed seems that she cannot
control her feelings:
I cant help it. Im a goner. Its tearing me all up inside.
Dont do it.
548
I cant help it. Ive never been able to help anything.
You ought to stop it.
How can I stop it? I cant stop things. Feel that?
Her hand was trembling. (Hemingway 1954: 183).
In relation to Romero, a nineteen-year-old bullfighter, Brett admits that she is
mad about him and also thinks that she might even be in love with him (Hemingway
1954: 183). However, it is also obvious from the start that Brett is only sexually
interested in him: My God! Hes a lovely boy, Brett said. And how I would love
to see him get into these clothes. He must use a shoe-horn (Hemingway 1954:
177). After all, Brett is almost twice his age (she is thirty-four), which makes it
difficult to believe that she will find the love of her life in a teenager. Brett decides
do go back to her fianc Mike Campbell not because she loves him but because he
knows all about her affairs and is willing to put up with it.
The only man in the novel whom Brett actually might love is Jake. Even so,
the relationship is impossible due to Jakes injury that has left him impotent. Being
unable to consummate their love, a condition that Brett cannot and will not accept,
Jake will forever be her friend, the one she will call or send a telegraph to whenever
she is in trouble. Even though their relationship is special to them both, even though
Jake accepts her as she is, Brett is unwilling to change her nature:
Couldnt we live together, Brett? Couldnt we just live together?
I dont think so. Id just tromper you with everybody. You couldnt stand
it.
I stand it now.
That would be different. Its my fault Jake. Its the way Im made.
(Hemingway 1954: 55).
However, we learn something from Bretts past that might offer some
explanation and cause for such a behavior. During the war she worked as a nurse
and her own true love (Hemingway 1954: 38) died of dysentery which must have
left some scares on Brett. Her present husband (from whom she is in a process of a
divorce), is a PTSD sailor who threatened to kill her and slept with a loaded gun
under his pillow (Hemingway 1954: 203). And Bretts present fianc is a bankrupted
war veteran with serious drinking issues. Splika in his article The Death of Love in
The Sun Also Rises explains that:
the war, which has unmanned Barnes and his contemporaries, has turned
Brett into the freewheeling equal of any man. . . . For Brett those blows are the
equivalent of Jakes emasculation; they seem to release her from her womanly
nature and expose her to the male prerogatives of drink and promiscuity. (1961:
83)
549
The loss of love that Brett experienced is the only plausible explanation for her
behavior. In Hemingways novel we learn so little of characters past, let alone
childhood, which Freud considered to be a personality defining stage of one's life.
Nevertheless, the fact that Brett experienced a great trauma later in her life might
also suggest that she developed a coping mechanism by having superficial and
merely physical relationships with unknown men. Freud stated: In women who
have had many love-affairs there seems to be no difficulty in finding vestiges of
their object-cathexes in the traits of their character (1990e: 704). That would
explain why Brett took up those male prerogatives of drink and promiscuity.
Further, the term object-cathexis means the investment of (libidinal) energy to an
object. Still, as the id does not distinguish between a mental image and reality, it
may not lead to direct action to satisfy a need. Instead, the id may simply form an
image of the desired object that is satisfying in the short-term, but does not fulfill the
need in the long term (Cherry 2011). Therefore, it would seem reasonable to
assume that Brett experienced a change of character not when she lost her first love
to dysentery, but when she found out that Jake is impotent. We learn from Jake (who
is an unreliable and ironic narrator) that Brett was in love with that soldier, but he
can rerely be trusted. Both in her sober and tight moments, Brett exclaims love to
Jake, but her love is Freudian, that is, connected to the libido: The nucleus of what
we mean by love naturally consists . . . in sexual love with sexual union as its aim
(Freud 1990c: 673). Since Brett cannot achieve that aim, she finds on outlet for the
built up energy in carnal pleasures with men with whom she has no future. She
receives from other men only that what she cannot attain from Jake, and she gains
from Jake that what she can never find in any other man.
It is a well known fact that Hemingway wrote on the iceberg principle and
it is interesting to note that Freuds psyche is devised on the same principle. The id
is that part of our psyche buried deep into the unconscious and therefore always out
of reach. For that reason it is difficult and ungrateful to analyze Hemingways
characters from the psychoanalytical point of view. Nevertheless, the case of Lady
Brett Ashley seems a clear one when she states: I have always done just what I
wanted (Hemingway 1954: 184). Saying that, Brett reaffirms the fact that she leads
her life following the pleasure principle which is illustrated in her need to satisfy
her desires for drinks, dance, and sex immediately and at all costs. Her impulsive,
irrational, and emotional behavior is a consequence of her dominant id, the place of
origin of her desire, which forces her to behave like a selfish, pleasure-oriented
child, unable (and unwilling) to postpone gratification or control her desire in any
way.
2. Cultural desire and Daisy Buchanan
Unlike Freud who links desire with physical or sexual pleasure, Lacan
makes clear that desire is in fact culturally determined. In his theory, Lacan moves
away from the physical and examines the human subject as a social and linguistic
550
being. The minute we are born, we become immersed into the Symbolic Order, that
is the Other, and by learning the language we become susceptible to desire. Desire is
of a linguistic nature, according to Lacan, because, language always signifies that
which is absent, and desire results from a lack which it wishes continually to fill
(Eagleton 1983: 167). The ontological separation, either caused by Zeuss splitting
of the original hermaphroditic human being into two, as presented by Aristophanes
in Platos Symposium, or by a mother giving birth to a child, as suggested by Lacan,
is what confirms that both the Lacanian subject and his or her desire are a fragment
of something larger and more primordial (Silverman 1981: 153).
Fitzgeralds The Great Gatsby displays Lacanian cultural desire through
motivations and actions of most characters, but the focus of this analysis is on Daisy
Buchanan as the epitome of the concept of Lacanian desire which is cultural and
unattainable. To understand how Daisy came to represent it, it is necessary to take
into account the immediate cultural context. As Pidgeon suggests, the snobbery in
American life (2007: 178) is derived from the Puritan ethic that shaped American
view of the world and their desires. Since wealth was perceived as a sign of
goodness
A person who was not well-to-do and who did not belong to the right club
or attend the right school was considered not only poor, but sinful. The pursuit
of wealth came to have a meaning which transcended the mere desire to be
more comfortable. It served in an attempt to erase original sin and earn eternal
salvation. Striving for wealth has become a way for Americans to ease their
consciences, while ones morality is often measured by the ability to acquire
material possessions. (Pidgeon 2007: 178)
1
Emphasizing the cultural nature of desire, Foucault asserted that the law is
what constitutes both desire and the lack on which it is predicated (1990: 81).
Similarly, Silverman explained that cultural representations supply the standard and
that the subject learns what to desire. We are taught to value objects which are
culturally designated as full and complete, whereby it becomes clear that our desires
originate from the place of the Other (1981: 177-8). Gatsbys urge to strive toward
wealth and money at any price in order to prove himself worthy is therefore a result
of what Lacan refers to as mans cultural subordination (2006: 96), that is an
irresistible need to follow certain preestablished patterns.
Gatsbys mythologized and romanticized love for Daisy is in fact a
predetermined infatuation with her social status and wealth symbolized by her
mermaid voice. According to Settle, who bases his argumentation artfully on the
examples of classical literature and criticism, Daisy is a classical siren temptress, a
deadly being of nature. Settles interpretation can, however, be broadened by
1
For details on the Puritan ethic, see also: Morgan, Edmund S. The Puritan Family. Religion and
Domestic Relations in Seventeenth-Century New England. New York: Harper, 1966.
551
reading Daisy as a social siren, desirable first and foremost for her money and
background. She lures men with her irresistible siren voice, which is attractive and
almost hypnotic simply because it is full of money (Fitzgerald 1994: 126). While
Nick, who was brought up in a rich family, cannot pinpoint why Daisys voice is so
attractive, Gatsby, dedicated to climb up the social (and financial) ladder,
unmistakably recognizes money as the source of attraction. The recognition for
Nick approaches the tension of initiation: that the voice of Daisy should have, in a
commercializing-cashiering society where friendships, families, values, and even a
World Series can be bought, a new world charm such as this (Settle 1985: 122).
What is more, just like a siren, Daisy is deadly, both symbolically and literally.
Symbolically, she commits the act of ultimate social betrayal by not attending
Gatsbys funeral (Settle 1985: 118), after having already renounced her love for him
upon realizing that he might have earned his money in a socially unacceptable way.
In the literal sense, she accidentally kills Myrtle Wilson driving Gatsbys car and
causes Gatsbys murder by leading Myrtles husband to believe that it was Gatsby
who drove the car. Both Myrtle Wilson and Jay Gatsby are annihilated by their
desire to climb up the social ladder, which, embodied in the character of Daisy, turns
out to be unattainable.
The voice with which desire speaks Daisys irresistible mermaid voice is
in fact the voice of Lacans Law which we cannot avoid nor escape, but according to
which we are forced to live. Lacans subject accepts Wittgensteins idea that
learning is based on believing (1969: 25), and so as we learn the language (the
Law) we also learn to accept the unconditional authority of a body of convention,
which for Gatsby is the law of money echoing in Daisys voice and in her casual
attitude to being enormously wealthy. Even though his desire is embodied in a
woman, her allure is not physical (sexual), but is based on the fact that she belongs
to a specific social class, possessing thus both luxurious objects and the ease in
handling them, which is only available to those brought up in wealth: It amazed
him he had never been in such a beautiful house before. But what gave it an air of
breathless intensity was that Daisy lived there it was a casual thing to her as his
tent out at camp was to him (Fitzgerald 1994: 154).
The social nature of his desire is further emphasized by Gatsbys attempts to
win Daisy over with a lavish display of his possessions, not because he enjoys them,
but because he believes that other people do. Felluga explains that Desire has
little to do with material sexuality for Lacan; it is caught up, rather, in social
structures and strictures, in the fantasy version of reality that forever dominated our
lives after our entrance into language (2003: 1). Therefore, Gatsby does not try to
arouse Daisys emotional or sexual interest. Instead, proving how essential the
cultural factor is, he spends five years of his life accumulating wealth in order to
prove true what he had led her to believe: namely, that he was a person from much
the same stratum as herself that he was fully able to take care of her (Fitzgerald
1994: 155). What is more, Daisy does not seem to mind the lack of what could be
termed as typical romance, but responds to Gatsbys materialistic attitude. She is
552
moved to renew her relationship with Gatsby only after she has witnessed his
colossal mansion with a pool and a hydroplane, his exquisite shirts, and library full
of real books.
Once Daisy visits his mansion, Gatsby is not concerned with what she will
think of him, but whether his possessions will impress her, which they do. Daisys
amazement grows as they
wandered through Marie Antoinette music-rooms and Restoration salons
through period bathrooms swathed in rose and lavender silk and vivid new
flowers [and] his bedroom [which] was the simplest room of all except
where the dresser was garnished with a toilet set of pure dull gold. (Fitzgerald
1994: 98)
As Nick notices, I think he revalued everything in his house according to the
measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes. Sometimes, too, he stared at
his possessions in a dazed way, as though in her actual and astonishing presence
none of it was any longer real (Fitzgerald 1994: 92). But the extent of his
affirmation-seeking is best visible in the famous, touching but mostly ridiculous
scene in which he opens his wardrobe for Daisy and throws his shirts before her and
this makes her sob because theyre the most beautiful shirts she ever saw (Fitzgerald
1994: 99). For both of them, the spiritual, the emotional or the personal is
insignificant. What matters is the external, the material, that which can be
appreciated by others, by anyone who knows what is fashionable or expensive,
because such things can only be possessed by those at the top of the social ladder.
Despite her readiness to forsake her husband for a richer man, Daisy and Gatsbys
relationship has no future, because they are merely blinded by each others
prospects. There is hardly any real emotional involvement or even sincerity between
them. It is because of this utter lack of loyalty and real love that, once she realizes
that Gatsby does not conform to her cultural and social standards, because he got his
money in ways that are not quite socially acceptable, Daisy is able to make a clean
cut, turning suddenly against Gatsby, and indirectly causing his death.
Gatsbys desire springs from a very specific lack: a lack of social
recognition. To compensate, he first changed his name from the ordinarily sounding
James Gatz to the stylish Jay Gatsby, then he acquired money and possessions, and
now he tries to fill up his house with famous people: I keep it always full of
interesting people, night and day. People who do interesting things. Celebrated
people (Fitzgerald 1994: 97), as if they, too, are a sort of commodity that would
bring Gatsby the recognition of others. Because, as Lacan claims, The satisfaction
of human desire is possible only when mediated by the others desire and labor
(2006: 98), Gatsby appreciates the fact that Daisy, as a symbol of social success, is
desired by many: It excited him, too, that many men had already loved Daisy it
increased her value in his eyes (Fitzgerald 1994: 154). The fantasy version of
Daisy, High in a white palace the kings daughter, the golden girl (Fitzgerald
1994: 126), shows that for Gatsby (and for her previous suitors) her greatest
553
attraction lies in her pedigree. The white palace is a sort of an ivory tower, a
symbol of both her social excellence and her isolation. She is the epitome of
Lacanian desire Because desire is articulated through fantasy, [and] it is driven to
some extent by its own impossibility (Felluga 2003). Daisy is therefore not to be
had, but only admired from afar. It is because of this that Gatsby buys a house across
the bay from Daisys and stares at the lights of her house at night, desiring her from
a distance. He creates a specific image of Daisy, a fantasy version of his desire,
impossible for Daisy to live up to:
There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled
short of his dreams not through her own fault, but because of the colossal
vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had
thrown himself into it with creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it
out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or
freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.
(Fitzgerald 1994: 102-103)
That Daisy should tumble short of his dreams was inevitable, because, as
Butler explains, the fulfillment of desire would be its radical self-cancellation
(Butler 1995: 381), since desire is most interested not in fully attaining the object
of desire but in keeping our distance, thus allowing desire to persist (Felluga 2003:
1). This is precisely why, as Jay lets Daisy know that he spent many nights looking
at the green light at the end of her dock, the colossal significance of that light
vanishes forever, diminishing his count of enchanted objects (Fitzgerald 1994:
100).
To conclude, Gatsbys (and Myrtle Wilsons) tragic destiny proves that
desire is unattainable because it is directed toward ideal representations which
remain forever beyond the subjects reach (Silverman 1981: 176). Due to the
narcissistic nature of Lacanian desire which implies a form of self-love (Silverman
1981: 177) and a strong urge to persist, Daisy, as the embodiment of that desire,
manages to continue her life as if nothing happened. Unlike Brett Ashleys Freudian
(sexual) desire, Jay Gatsbys desire is Lacanian. It is embodied in the character of
Daisy, who both as a woman and as the realization of cultural and social
expectations remains not only unavailable, but proves deadly to him.
References
Butler, J. (1995). Desire. Critical Terms for Literary Study. Edited by Frank
Lentricchia and Thomas McLaughlin. Chicago: The University of Chicago
Press.
Cherry, K. (2011). Cathexis and Anticathexis: Freudian Theory of Drives.
About.com. Available at:
554
http://psychology.about.com/od/sigmundfreud/a/cathexis.htm. Retrieved on: 18
May, 2011.
Desire. Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary. Available at: http://www.merriam-
webster.com/dictionary/desire. Retrieved on: May 20, 2011.
Eagleton, T. (1983). Literary Theory. An Introduction. Oxford: Basil Blackwell Ltd.
Felluga, D. (2003). "Modules on Lacan: On Desire." Introductory Guide to Critical
Theory. Available at:
http://www.purdue.edu/guidetotheory/psychoanalysis/lacandesire.html.
Retrieved on: 18 March 2008.
Fitzgerald, F. S. (1994). The Great Gatsby. London, Penguin Books.
Foucault, M. (1990). The History of Sexuality. Vol. 1. An Introduction. Trans. Robert
Hurley. New York: Vintage Books.
Freud, S. (1990a). Beyond the Pleasure Principle (1920). Trans. C.J.M. Hubback.
In: Adler, Mortimer J. (ed.). Great Books of the Western World. 54. Freud.
Chicago: The University of Chicago.
Freud, S. (1990b). Civilization and Its Discontents (1929) . Trans. Joan Riviere.
In: Adler, Mortimer J. (ed.). Great Books of the Western World. 54. Freud.
Chicago: The University of Chicago.
Freud, S. (1990c). Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego (1921). Trans.
James Strachey. In: Adler, Mortimer J. (ed.). Great Books of the Western
World. 54. Freud. Chicago: The University of Chicago.
Freud, S. (1990d). New Introductory Lectures on Psycho.Analysis (1932). Trans.
W.J.H. Sprott. In: Adler, Mortimer J. (ed.). Great Books of the Western World.
54. Freud. Chicago: The University of Chicago.
Freud, S. (1990e). The Ego and the Id (1923). Trans. Joan Riviere. In: Adler,
Mortimer J. (ed.). Great Books of the Western World. 54. Freud. Chicago: The
University of Chicago.
Hemingway, E. (1954). The Sun Also Rises. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons.
Klages, M. (2006). Literary Theory: A Guide for the Perplexed. New York,
Continuum International Publishing Group.
Lacan, J. crits. (2006). Trans. Bruce Fink. New York, London: W. W. Norton &
Co. Inc.
Morgan, E. S. (1966). The Puritan Family. Religion and Domestic Relations in
Seventeenth-Century New England. New York: Harper.
Pidgeon, J. A. (2007). The Great Gatsby. Modern Age. 49.2:178-182.
Settle, G. (1985). Fitzgerald's Daisy: The Siren Voice. American Literature 57:
11-24.
Silverman, K. (1981). The Subject of Semiotics. Oxford University Press: New York.
Splika, M. (1961). The Death of Love in The Sun Also Rises. Hemingway and Its
Critics. Ed. Baker, Carlos. New York, Hill and Wang.
Wittgenstein, L. (1969). On Certainty. Ed. G. E. M. Anscombe and G. H. von
Wright. Trans. Denis Paul and G. E. M. Anscombe. Oxford: Blackwell
Publishers Ltd.
555
Danijela Proi-Santovac
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
CRITICAL APPROACHES TO FAIRY TALES FROM THE EIGHTEENTH
CENTURY TO THE PRESENT
Abstract Extensive scholarship on fairy tales has been accumulated over the long
period of more than two centuries. Since the advent of folklore as an academic
discipline in the late eighteenth century, scholars have adopted numerous methods
and methodologies in order to shed light on various aspects of folk traditions. Tales
have been scrutinized from different angles, ranging from folkloristic, mythological,
anthropological, and ethnographic, to psychological, linguistic, literary, socio-
historical, and feminist. The sheer abundance of approaches to the study
demonstrates the complexity of the matter at hand and the richness of layers
underlying the tales. The aim of this paper is to present an overview of these
approaches and the key figures, as well as to provide a representative bibliographical
list in order to aid further scholarly efforts.
Key words: fairy tales, criticism, approaches, methods, folklore
1. Introduction
Fairy tales are a genre of literature with a long history. As early as the eleventh
century, a potential ancestor of the well-known fairy tale Little Red Riding Hood
was presented in Latin verse by the medieval teacher Egbert of Lige in his
schoolbook Fecunda ratis (1022-1024) with the purpose of religious instruction. Its
plot only vaguely resembles that of the modern tale, but, according to Jan M.
Ziolkowski, Egbert remains a folklore collector of the only sort who could have
been encountered around the millennium a male member of the literate class who,
to indoctrinate youths, drew upon material that had currency among common
people (1992: 559). Although tales existing in manuscripts are relatively rare
before modern times, towards the end of the eighteenth and during the nineteenth
century a fashion for collecting them developed, and with the first collectors
attempts, first scholarly attempts at studying them appeared as well. Nevertheless, it
was not until well into the nineteenth century that these attempts became more
organised and the first scientific methods and scholarly approaches came into
existence, spurred by the newly-established interest in folklore.
556
2. Early scholarship on fairy tales
In the nineteenth century, German Romantic nationalism thrived on the ideas of
Johann Gottfried von Herder, whose argument that folk literature was deeply
embedded in cultural and social context of its origin, inspired the Grimm brothers to
collect pure and authentically German fairy tales in order to establish a national
body of tales in a collection that would capture the spirit of the folk. Their efforts
served as an impetus for others to undertake similar projects the English folklorist
Joseph Jacobs, for example, considered his own two collections a kind of English
Grimm (1894: vii). Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, however, were not only compilers
and editors, but also scholars of importance, whose third volume of Kinder- und
Hausmrchen (Childrens and Household Tales, 1819-1822) contains annotations to
the tales in the manner of the comparative method
1
as well as an overview of
international tales, a list of other editors and collectors (from Italy, France, Spain,
England,
2
Scotland and Ireland, Denmark and Sweden, Germany, Slavic countries,
Hungary, Greece, and the Orient).
The comparative approach is the essence of the historic-geographic method,
developed by the Finnish folklorist Julius Krohn and his son Kaarle Krohn with the
aim of reconstructing the original versions of individual tales, the Urform. The
theory of monogenesis, i.e. single origin of a tale on the hands of an individual, then
subject to diffusion in space and time, was strongly supported by Joseph Jacobs in
his article The Problem of Diffusion (1894), as well as Theodor Benfey and
Emmanuel Cosquin, who both considered India to be the place of origin of the
majority of the tales circulating in their time. The greatest contributions of the
historic-geographic approach to the study of folktales are the tale-type and motif
indexes, indispensable tools for many todays scholars. In 1910, the Finnish scholar
Antti Aarne published his 76-page-long Index of the Types of the Folktale,
3
creating
a system for classifying folktales (or mrchen, as was his term), as well as a tale
typology. Each tale-type was given a name, a number (e.g. Aa 500) and an abstract
of the plot, distinguishing between actors and incidents. In 1927, the American
folklorist Stith Thompson translated and revised the catalogue, enlarging it by 203
pages. His second edition added another 309 pages to the existing corpus, as well as
new categories. Due to various insufficiencies (e.g. gender bias in naming and
describing the types (Lundell 1986)), AT numbers turned into ATU
4
in 2004, with
yet another revision of the catalogue, by the German scholar Hans-Jrg Uther,
whose 2-volume, 1155-page-long catalogue gives a much more detailed division
1
providing parallels from other countries, e.g. Jacobss tale The Well of the Worlds End is
given as a variant of Der Froschknig oder der eiserne Heinrich (The Frog King or Iron Henry,
KHM 1) (Grimm and Grimm 1822: 6).
2
including Jack the Giant-Killer and The Life and Adventures of Tom Thumb (396-405).
3
Original title in German: Anti Aarne. (1910). Verzeichnis der Mrchentypen. FF
Communications No. 3. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Tiedeakatemia.
4
Aa stands for Aarne, AT for Aarne-Thompson, ATU for Aarne-Thompson-Uther.
557
into categories and subcategories as well as improved titles and descriptions of tale-
types.
5
In addition, Thompsons Motif-Index of Folk-Literature, a massive work of
six volumes first published from 1932 to 1936, organizes numerous motifs
appearing in tale-types into twenty-three categories, marked by letter headings (e.g.
F. Marvels) and subcategories, marked by numbers (e.g. F54.2. Plant grows to sky;
Jack and the Beanstalk).
Swedish folklorist and philologist Carl Wilhelm von Sydow was opposed to the
historic-geographic idea of spreading tales through abstract transmission, claiming
that the dissemination was performed by individual tradition bearers. This
standpoint also contrasts the one of romantic nationalists since he claims that
tradition does not have its roots in the spirit of the folk in general within a
community, but most often lies with a member of a minority within a society a
gifted individual. In addition, he was also against the concept of only one existing
Urform, believing that tales had multiple original forms, and in 1934 he introduced
the term oicotype into the science of folklore, to denote tales characteristic for an
area, either in terms of geography, or culture. Thus, he was a supporter of the
polygenesis hypothesis, though he did not exclude the possibility of diffusion of
folktales. The most prominent proponent of polygenesis was Andrew Lang (1844
1912), who argued for the independent invention of similar fairy tales due to the
existence of similar ideas in similar minds (1893: 415).
3. Psychological approaches
This claim for psychic unity is remarkably similar to Carl Gustav Jungs
theories of the collective unconscious and its archetypes. The collective
unconscious, according to Jung, manifested itself through archetypal characters,
some of which he analysed in The Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales
(1948) (e.g. the old man as helper, animal as helper) and in On the Psychology of
the Trickster-Figure (1954). His disciple, Marie-Louise von Franz focused much of
her work on the matter of fairy tales, emphasizing their symbolic meaning. Her
numerous books on the subject cover a wide range of topics: from the concept of the
shadow, the anima, and the animus, specific motifs (e.g. motif of redemption, bird
motif, cross-cultural motifs) to the problem of evil in fairy tales and the
representation of feminine images (e.g. mother as an archetypal image). She was
opposed to the nationalistic ideas about fairy tales, because, in her opinion, fairy
tales migrate and [thus] cannot be linked up with national collective consciousness
(1986: 6). Jungs insights were combined with comparative mythology
6
in the work
5
For a more detailed discussion, see Proi-Santovac 2010.
6
Some of the mythological approaches have been discredited in the course of folklore studies.
Such is the case with solar mythology of Friedrich Max Mller, whose search for genealogical
identifications for historical purposes (1899: 447) and his use of the insights of comparative
558
of Joseph Campbell, who sought to prove the existence of one archetypal pattern
within the universal monomyth, the one, shape-shifting yet marvelously constant
story (2004: 3). In addition, there is a striking similarity between Jungian
approaches and the anthroposophical theory of Rudolf Steiner, who also employs
archetypal imagery in his lecture The Poetry and Meaning of Fairy Tales (1908)
and who, just like Jung, believes that the starting point of all true tales lies in time
immemorial, in the time when those who had not yet attained intellectual powers
possessed a more or less remarkable clairvoyance, unmarred by civilization.
Jungian approaches constitute a branch of psychological approaches to the
study of fairy tales. Freudian approaches are another, and they, as the name implies,
revolve around ideas of Sigmund Freud, the rejected mentor of Carl Gustav Jung.
Freud borrowed from folklore when formulating his prominent theory of the
Oedipus complex, using a classical version of the ATU 931 tale-type. His writings
on the topic of fairy tales focus on their connection with dreams (e.g. ATU 500
(1997: 103), wish fulfilment and symbolism within fairy tale motifs. His ideas were
further developed by his followers Franz Riklin, Ernest Jones, Otto Rank, Erich
Fromm, and Gza Rheim, who even goes so far as to suggest that fairy tales
originate in dreams. The latter is an outstanding figure among the psychoanalysts in
that he was a trained folklorist as well, and he recognized the importance of taking
into account different variants of a tale and tale-types.
Another important scholar, though of controversial reputation, was Bruno
Bettelheim, the neo-Freudian author of the influential bestseller The Uses of
Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales (1976). Although a
valuable contribution to the psychoanalytic study of fairy tales in some of its
aspects, Bettelheims study has been criticised on numerous accounts. For example,
feminist readings have uncovered sexist undertones in his writing (Oliver 1977;
Stone 2008); in addition, Jack Zipes argues that Bettelheims work is a betrayal of
the radical essence of Freudianism and that he has contributed to the banalization
of Freudian theory by blandly applying its tenets without rethinking and reworking
them in the light of social and scientific changes (1979: 164-5). Among other
things, he was even accused of downright plagiarism in the article Bruno
philology lead him to the conclusion that modern myths and tales are a corruption of the pure primeval
myths the radical meaning of the word is forgotten, and thus what was originally an appellative, or a
name, in the etymological sense of the word . . . dwindled down into a mere sound a name in the
modern sense of the word (1872: 72). Severely criticized by many scholars, most fervently by Andrew
Lang, solar mythology remains, however, significant for the role it played in the history of [folklore],
since, as Lang himself admitted, without Mllers provocation he and his fellow-folklorists might
never have stirred into existence (Dorson 1955: 393).
Another devolutionary approach to the study of folk and fairy tales is the myth-ritual theory of
Lord Raglan, according to whom rites and myths arise in more civilized and spread to less civilized
societies, where they often degenerate . . . [and] may survive as a sacred, and later as a secular, story
when the rite has ceased to be performed (1957: 173). He considered the practice of defining myths,
sagas and fairy tales as completely separate categories to be hair-splitting, thus putting all traditional
narratives as regards their origin into one category (1955: 460).
559
Bettelheims Uses of Enchantment and Abuses of Scholarship (1991) by Dundes,
who quoted many examples of borrowings without acknowledgement from his
predecessors.
Alan Dundes was a psychoanalytic folklorist of international fame who
combined morphological and structural approaches with folkloristic theories and
Freudian psychology in much of his writing. He introduced the terms motifeme
and allomotif in the study of folk and fairy tales, in an effort to merge structuralist
and historic-geografic approaches. A psychostructural approach was also adopted
by Steven Swann Jones and defended fiercely in his article On Analyzing Fairy
Tales (1987) against Robert Darntons attack on psychoanalyst readings of fairy
tales. Bengt Holbek was a Danish psychological structuralist, who combined
psychoanalytic reading of fairy tales with Dundess motifemic analysis and his own
adaptation of Propps functions into five moves.
4. Anthropological approaches
Vladimir Propp was a predecessor of structuralism as practiced by Claude
Lvi-Strauss. In his Morphology of the Folktale (1928), Propp devised a system of
thirty-one functions, which are characteristic of the narrative structure of fairy tales
and usually occur in the same order.
7
Lvi-Strauss, on the other hand, advocated a
different kind of structural analysis, based on his theory of binary opposition, where
raw is opposed to cooked, black to white, wet to dry, rational to emotional, etc.
Another movement among the anthropological approaches which also makes use of
linguistic devices is ethnopoetics, shaped by Dennis Tedlock and Dell H. Hymes.
Tedlocks aim was to capture the quality of oral performance by constructing
multivocal discourse and telling the story of what performers have said and done
while at the same time letting their performances go on telling a story (1990: 141),
while Hymes analysed language-specific means of achieving an aesthetic form and
emphasized the importance of the communicative context of tale performance.
The practice of collecting tales in context is the basis of ethnographic
approaches. The American anthropologist William Bascom defined the social
context of folklore through the medium of the following factors:
(1) when and where the various forms of folklore are told; (2) who tells
them, whether or not they are privately owned, and who composes the
audience; (3) dramatic devices employed by the narrator, such as gestures,
7
Propps functions are: absentation, interdiction, violation of interdiction, reconnaissance,
delivery, trickery, complicity, villainy and lack, mediation, counteraction, departure, testing, reaction,
acquisition, guidance, struggle, branding, victory, resolution, return, pursuit, rescue, arrival, claim, task,
solution, recognition, exposure, transfiguration, punishment, wedding; he also defined eight general
character types, or dramatis personae: the hero, the helper, the villain, the false hero, the donor, the
dispatcher, the princess, the princesss father (Propp 1968).
560
facial expressions, pantomime, impersonation, or mimicry; (4) audience
participation in the form of laughter, assent or other responses, running
criticism or encouragement of the narrator, singing or dancing, or acting out
parts in a tale; (5) categories of folklore recognized by the people themselves;
and (6) attitudes of the people toward these categories (1954: 334).
Folklorists such as Linda Dgh immersed themselves into the communities
whose folktales they collected; as a result, in Folktales and Society: Story-Telling in
a Hungarian Peasant Community (1969), she discusses the correlation of oral folk
narratives, their creators and performers, and the participant audience as a complex
whole in the expression of culture (vii). In 1971, in cooperation with Andrew
Vzsonyi, she developed the conduit theory of transmission, which accounts for the
perseverance of folklore items and the existence of variations stemming from
different contexts that are influenced by the similar mindsets of conduit members,
both the senders and the receivers of the message.
5. Socio-historical approaches
Social, historical and cultural contexts play an important role in interpreting the
meaning of tales within the scope of socio-historical approaches. Specific variants
of tales
8
are considered to be reflections of the conditions within a society at the time
of their production and reception. The German folklorist Lutz Rhrich was an
advocate of this view, although he did allow for the fact that ideas from various
ages may merge in a single folktale (1991a: 57). In his essay The Quest of
Meaning in Folk Narrative Research (1991b), he also warned against dogmatic
interpretations of the meaning of a text, since it is determined by the development
of culture and ideas, fashions and trends, and dependent on rulers and ruling
ideologies, [as well as] the education and cultural awareness, the sex, age, religion,
and ethnic group of the consumer (2). Nancy L. Canepa relies on Rhrichs work in
From Court to Forest: Giambattista Basiles Lo cunto de li cunti and the Birth of
the Literary Fairy Tale (1999) in referring to the tales in question as a text that is
openly engaged with the culture in which it was created (1999: 23); for example,
she identifies certain mechanical automatons, extraordinary in the early-
seventeenth century Italy, that found their way into Basiles tales as wonders that
help heroes overcome obstacles (27). In a similar vein, cultural historian Robert
Darnton tries to uncover the world of the eighteenth-century France in Peasants Tell
Tales: The Meaning of Mother Goose (1999) in order to show not merely what
people thought but how they thought how they construed the world, invested it
8
As opposed to tale-types, which are considered to be more universal due to their appearance
within different communities and geographical areas.
561
with meaning, and infused it with emotion (3).
9
Maria Tatar has kept Darntons
caveat in mind when reading the tales in the Grimms collection, combining the
socio-historical approach with Propps legacy and her own interpretation of
Bettelheims provocative readings (1987: xix).
German fairy tales are also frequently focused on by Jack Zipes. In his first
essay on the topic, Breaking the Magic Spell: Politics and the German Fairy Tale
(1975) he applied the Marxist method in order to come closer to a historical
clarification and a total view of folk and fairy tales (116). His socio-historical
approach to fairy tales has been further developed in his subsequent work, enriched
by various insights from fields as far apart in interests as those of linguistics,
genetics, psychology, and memetics, to name just a few. His discussions are by no
means restricted to the tales of the Grimms; Charles Perraults, Hans Christian
Andersens and other more recent writers tales, for example, have an important
place in his analyses, as well as the cinematic adaptations of fairy tales. His
consideration of the impact of modern media on the fairy tale genre has culminated
in The Enchanted Screen: The Unknown History of Fairy-Tale Films (2010), where
he delves into the matter much more deeply than in his previous frequent
examinations of Walt Disneys films.
Like many others studying the history of the fairy tale, Zipes considers it a fact
that the literary fairy tale developed as an appropriation of a particular oral
storytelling tradition that gave birth to the wonder folk tale (2006: 44). Ruth B.
Bottigheimer questions this widely accepted truth in her Fairy Tales: A New
History (2009) and argues for the opposite view, i.e. a replacement of an
anonymous folk with literate authors who are city-oriented people and substitution
of human mouths and ears [with] printed books as the route of dissemination of
fairy tales (113). Her predecessor in this line of thought was the German scholar
Rudolf Schenda, whose ideas of printed texts as tradition bearers, expressed in
From Mouth to Ear: Elements of a Cultural History of Popular Storytelling in
Europe
10
(1993), have only recently been made available to the English-speaking
scholarly community in the form of an article. Other scholars have not been so
exclusive in their views on the issue; Jan M. Ziolkowski, for example, supports a
much milder view, stating that in describing the relationship of these tales, we are
not confined to a harsh dichotomy between literary and oral (1992: 553). Similarly,
Propp
11
discusses the distinction between pure folklore, that is, folklore both by
origin and by transmission, [and] folklore of literary origin, that is, folklore by
transmission but literature by origin, but is satisfied to conclude that ties between
9
See also Dorothy R. Thelander Mother Goose and Her Goslings: The France of Louis XIV as
Seen through the Fairy Tale (1982).
10
Original title in German: Rudolf Schenda. (1993). Von Mund zu Ohr: Bausteine zu einer
Kulturgeschichte volkstmlichen Erzhlens in Europa. Gttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht.
11
Although he is renowned for his structuralist approach, in his later work (Historical Roots of
the Wondertale (1946), parts of which are published in Theory and History of Folklore (1984)), Propp
seeks the roots of fairy tales in historical reality and social institutions of the past.
562
literature and folklore, as well as the literary sources of folklore are among the most
interesting subjects both in the history of literature and in folklore (1984: 9).
6. Literary and linguistic approaches
Establishing the difference between oral narratives and their literary
counterparts was the aim of the Danish folklorist Axel Olrik, whose article Epic
Laws of Folk Narrative
12
(1908) presents an effort to uncover universal regularities
in traditional tales, and, as such, can be viewed as a precursor of Propps study of
fairy tales structure. A literary approach has also been adopted by the Swiss
scholar Max Lthi, who chose searching for regularities in style of the folktale as the
focal point of his work. His goal was to establish the essential laws (1982: 107)
and delineate the principal formal traits of the European folktale (3) which,
according to him, are one-dimensionality, depthlessness, abstract style, isolation and
universal interconnection, and sublimation and all-inclusiveness. Unlike Olrik, Lthi
does not lay a claim to universality; his stylistic features are deemed culturally
specific, restricted to Europe. Furthermore, in The Fairy Tale as Art Form and
Portrait of Man (1984), he combines aesthetic with an anthropological approach,
considering fairy tales to be expressions of a certain worldview.
Alessandra Levorato undertook the task of uncovering a close, reciprocal
relationship [of a] text to the social reality that produces it (2003: x), using a
linguistic approach to take an objective look at the extent to which language
choices may work in the interests of particular categories of people (196). Her
study focuses on the sexist use of language in fairy tales and the ideological
motivation behind different adaptations of a tale, which, in their own right, further
serve the purpose of socialization by influencing the readers worldview in terms of
gender relations. Similarly, Bottigheimers Silenced Women in the Grimms Tales:
The Fit between Fairy Tales and Society in Their Historical Context (1986)
analyses the language of the tales in relationship to power, viewing discourse as
domination. She examines silence on three levels in the tales: the muteness which
grows out of the narrative, . . . the silences within the text resulting from the authors
or editors distribution of direct and indirect speech, [and] the manner in which
lexical context colors what is said (119).
12
Olriks epic laws are: The Law of Opening, The Clarity of the Narrative, The Unity of Plot,
The Law of Concentration on a Leading Character (The Law of Centralization), The Law of the Single
Strand, The Logic of the Narrative, The Law of Two to a Scene, The Law of Twins, The Law of
Contrast, The Law of Three, The Law of Repetition, The Law of Patterning, The Ideal of Epic Unity,
The Use of Tableaux Scenes, The Law of Final Stress, The Law of Closing (1965: 129-141, 1992: 41-
82).
563
7. Feminist approaches
Feminist approaches to fairy tales grew out of the seed planted by the early
1970s debate of Alison Lurie and Marcia R. Lieberman. Luries two articles
defended fairy tales as stories which suggest a society in which women are as
competent and active as men, at every age and in every class (1970: 42). Lieberman
countered her view, stating that popular fairy tales serve to acculturate women to
traditional social roles (1972: 383) and represent a significant factor in forming
the sexual role concept of children and in suggesting to them the limitations that are
imposed by sex upon a persons chances of success in various endeavors (383). She
dismissed as unimportant Luries argument that the best-known tales, with passive
and pretty heroines, present an unrepresentative selection because they reflect the
taste of the refined literary men who edited the first popular collections of fairy tales
for children (1971: 6). However, later scholars found this insight significant and
built upon it by analysing differences between successive editions and the
implications of the changes introduced (e.g. Stone 1975, 1981; Bottigheimer 1987;
Tatar 1987).
In To Spin a Yarn: The Female Voice in Folklore and Fairy Tale (1986)
Karen E. Rowe argues that, although male appropriators of texts had controlling
power of retelling, of literary recasting, and of dissemination to the folk (61) in the
past, tale-telling is essentially a female art; the editors just reshaped what they
could not precisely comprehend, because only for women does the thread . . . create
a tapestry to be fully read and understood (70-1). Marina Warner further developed
this observation in From the Beast to the Blonde: On Fairytales and Their Tellers
(1994), a history of female story-telling, ranging from the archetype of Mother
Goose to the twentieth-century novelist Angela Carter, with great attention paid to
the writings of the French conteuses. Thus, a new perspective enriched folkloristic
studies as it became undeniable that by the end of the eighteenth century . . .
women were not only writing, they were conceiving fictional worlds in which
patriarchal images and conventions were severely, radically revised (Gilbert and
Gubar 1984: 4).
Discussion of gender issues is also combined with a socio-historical stance in
Bottigheimers Tale Spinners: Submerged Voices in Grimms Fairy Tales (1982).
She claims that the tales can be seen as a sourcebook for the mentality not only of
the 19th century but also of former ages (141), and concentrates on the tales
connected with spinning. She argues that the ambivalent attitude towards this
archetypically female employment is the result of female production and male
editing of the texts. Her ascribing generally negative connotations to spinning from
the female point of view is criticised by Zipes, who asserts that women historically
cherished [it] because it provided them with an opportunity to improve their social
position, in terms of marriage, and, even more importantly, it provided them with an
autonomous area of female productivity; he does acknowledge, however, that
attitudes toward spinning underwent major shifts on the part of both men and
women, though only after industrialization took place (1993: 57).
564
Joan Goulds Spinning Straw into Gold: What Fairy Tales Reveal about the
Transformations in a Womans Life (2006) illustrates the connection between fairy
tales and the stages in a womans life, which are defined as Maiden, Matron, and
Crone. Gould disagrees with the assertion that fairy tale heroines are passive
creatures who wait for a deliverer (409) and reserves this characterization only for
Disneys female protagonists. She disregards the motif of sleep as an indication of
passivity; rather, she qualifies it as one of the natural paths of inner development, . .
. [an] escape from situations that overwhelm [a woman], while protecting her from
the need to make decisions (411). Kay F. Stone shares the opinion about the
Disneys heroines, but strongly disagrees on the point of sleep, characterizing them
as barely alive . . . [in that] two of them hardly manage to stay awake (1975: 44).
In her early work, she conducted research to ascertain to what extent popular fairy
tales influence the outlook of modern women and teenage girls in North America,
and found that a majority of her informants were completely unfamiliar with
Anglo-American heroines, most of whom appear in scholarly collections not often
found in childrens sections of libraries [but] could easily recall tales popularized
through the numerous Grimm translations and the Disney films (1975: 43).
8. Conclusion
Generally, a large body of scholarship concentrates on the analysis of the
Grimms tales; for example, a majority of studies mentioned above focuses on them,
at the expense of other writers, both male and female, from Germany as well as
other countries. In addition, Charles Perrault and his Mother Goose tales take up a
significant portion of fairy tale scholarship. Thus, it was only recently that the genre
of the literary fairy tale in the early eighteenth-century France started receiving more
scholarly attention, most of all tales published between 1690 and 1715, two thirds of
which were written by women and only one third by men. A revival of interest in
these tales took place not among French or European scholars, as one might suspect,
but among North American ones, and mainly from the feminist and socio-historical
point of view (Seifert 2004, 1996; Hannon 1998; Tucker 2003; Duggan 2005).
Anglo-American scholars contributed to attracting attention to German female
writers, as well. However, English fairy tales have received surprisingly little
attention, although there are several representative collections. This is, therefore, a
relatively neglected field and one largely open to study.
References
Bascom, W. R. (1954) Four Functions of Folklore. The Journal of American
Folklore 67.266: 333-349.
Blackwell, J. (2004). German Fairy Tales: A Users Manual. Translations of Six
Frames and Fragments by Romantic Women. In: D. Haase (ed.). Fairy Tales
and Feminism: New Approaches. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 73-98.
565
Bottigheimer, R. B. (1986). Silenced Women in the Grimms Tales: The Fit
between Fairy Tales and Society in Their Historical Context. In: Ruth B.
Bottigheimer (ed.). Fairy Tales and Society: Illusion, Allusion and Paradigm.
Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 115-131.
Bottigheimer, R. B. (1982). Tale Spinners: Submerged Voices in Grimms Fairy
Tales. New German Critique 27: 141- 150.
Bottigheimer, R. B. (2009). Fairy Tales: A New History. New York: Excelsior
Editions, State University of New York.
Bottigheimer, R. B. (1987). Grimms Bad Girls and Bold Boys: The Moral and
Social Vision of the Tales. New Haven and London: Yale University Press.
Campbell, J. (2004). The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Commemorative Ed. USA:
Princeton University Press.
Canepa, N. (1999). From Court to Forest: Giambattista Basiles Lo cunto de li cunti
and the Birth of the Literary Fairy Tale. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.
Darnton, R. (1999). Peasants Tell Tales: The Meaning of Mother Goose. The
Great Cat Massacre and Other Episodes in French Cultural History. New
York: Basic Books, 9-74.
Dgh, L. (1969). Folktales and Society: Story-Telling in a Hungarian Peasant
Community. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Dorson, R. M. (1955). The Eclipse of Solar Mythology. The Journal of American
Folklore 68.270: 393-416.
Duggan, A. E. (2005). Salonnires, Furies, and Fairies: The Politics of Gender and
Cultural Change in Absolutist France. Newark: University of Delaware Press.
Franz, M. von. (1986). Problems of the Feminine in Fairytales. Dallas, Texas:
Spring Publications.
Gilbert, S. M., and Gubar, S. (1984). The Madwoman in the Attic: The Woman
Writer and the Nineteenth-Century Literary Imagination. New Haven and
London: Yale University Press.
Gould, J. (2006). Spinning Straw into Gold: What Fairy Tales Reveal about the
Transformations in a Womans Life. Westminster, MD, USA: Random House
Adult Trade Publishing Group.
Grimm, J. and Grimm, W. (1819-1822). Kinder und Hausmrchen. Gesammelt
durch die Brder Grimm. Dritter Band. Zweite vermehrte und verbesserte
Auflage. Berlin: G. Reimer.
Hannon, P. (1998). Fabulous Identities: Womens Fairy Tales in Seventeenth-
Century France. Amsterdam and Atlanta: Rodopi.
Jacobs, J. (1894). More English Fairy Tales. London: David Nutt.
Jarvis, S. C., and Blackwell, J. (2001). The Queens Mirror: Fairy Tales by German
Women, 1780-1900. USA: University of Nebraska Press.
Lang, A. (1893). Cinderella and the Diffusion of Tales. Folklore 4.4: 413-433.
Levorato, A. (2003). Language and Gender in the Fairy Tale Tradition: A Linguistic
Analysis of Old and New Story Telling. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Lieberman, M. R. (1972). Some Day My Prince Will Come: Female
Acculturation through the Fairy Tale. College English 34.3: 383-395.
566
Lundell, Torborg. (1986). Gender-related Biases in the Type and Motif Indexes of
Aarne and Thompson. In: R. B. Bottigheimer (ed.). Fairy Tales and Society:
Illusion, Allusion and Paradigm. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press, 149-163.
Lurie, A. (1970). Fairy Tale Liberation. The New York Review of Books: 42-44.
Available at: http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/1970/dec/17/fairy-tale-
liberation/. Retrieved on: 15 September 2010.
Lurie, A. (1971). Witches and Fairies: Fitzgerald to Updike. The New York Review
of Books: 6-11. Available at:
http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/1971/dec/02/witches-and-fairies-
fitzgerald-to-updike/. Retrieved on: 15 September 2010.
Lthi, M. (1982). The European Folktale: Form and Nature. Bloomington: Indiana
University Press.
Mller, F. M. (1872). Comparative Mythology. Chips from a German Workshop.
Vol. 2. Essays on Mythology, Traditions, and Customs. New York: Charles
Scribner and Company, 1-141.
Mller, F. M. (1899). Mythology. In: Natural Religion: the Gifford Lectures
Delivered before the University of Glasgow in 1888. London and New York:
Longmans, Green, & Co., 411-447. Available at:
http://ia311216.us.archive.org/0/items/naturalreligion01mlgoog/naturalreligion
01mlgoog.pdf. Retrieved on: 19 September 2010.
Olrik, A. (1965). The Epic Laws of Folk Narrative. In: A. Dundes (ed.). The Study
of Folklore. Englewood, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 129-41.
Olrik, A. (1992). Principles for Oral Narrative Research. Bloomington: Indiana
University Press.
Propp, V. (1984). Folklore and Literature. In: A. Liberman (ed.) Theory and
History of Folklore. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 5-9.
Propp, V. (1968). Morphology of the Folktale. Austin: University of Texas Press.
Proi-Santovac, D. (2010). Transformation and Tradition in English Fairy Tale.
In: V. Lopii and B. Mii-Ili (eds). Jezik, knjievnost, promene. Ni:
Filozofski fakultet, 327-340.
Raglan, L. (1957). More on Myth and Ritual. The Journal of American Folklore
70.276: 173.
Raglan, L. Myth and Ritual. The Journal of American Folklore 68.270, Myth: A
Symposium (1955): 454-461.
Rhrich, L. (1991a). Folktales and Reality. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Rhrich, L. (1991b) The Quest of Meaning in Folk Narrative Research. In: J. M.
McGlathery (ed.). The Brothers Grimm and Folktale. USA: University of
Illinois Press, 1-15.
Rowe, K. E. (1986). To Spin a Yarn: The Female Voice in Folklore and Fairy
Tale. In: R. B. Bottigheimer (ed.). Fairy Tales and Society: Illusion, Allusion
and Paradigm. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 53-74.
567
Seifert, L. C. (2004). On Fairy Tales, Subversion, and Ambiguity: Feminist
Approaches to Seventeenth-Century Contes de fees. In: D. Haase (ed.). Fairy
Tales and Feminism: New Approaches. Detroit: Wayne State University Press,
53-72.
Seifert, L. C. (1996). Fairy Tales, Sexuality, and Gender in France, 1690-1715:
Nostalgic Utopias. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Steiner, R. and Pusch, R. (ed.). (1989). The Poetry and Meaning of Fairy Tales: Two
lectures by Rudolf Steiner, Berlin, February 6, 1913 and December 26, 1908.
Spring Valley, New York: Mercury Press. Available at:
http://wn.rsarchive.org/Lectures/PoeTales/PoeTal_cover.html. Retrieved on: 15
September 2010.
Stone, K F. (1981). Mrchen to Fairy Tale: An Unmagical Transformation.
Western Folklore 40.3: 232-244.
Stone, K F. (1975). Things Walt Disney Never Told Us. The Journal of American
Folklore 88.347: 42-50.
Tatar, M. (1987). Hard Facts of the Grimms Fairy Tales. Ewing, NJ, USA:
Princeton University Press.
Tedlock, D. (1990). From Voice and Ear to Hand and Eye. The Journal of
American Folklore 103.408: 133-156.
Tucker, H. (2003). Pregnant Fictions: Childbirth and the Fairy Tale in Early-
Modern France. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.
Ziolkowski, J. M. (1992). A Fairy Tale from before Fairy Tales: Egbert of Liges
De puella a lupellis seruata and the Medieval Background of Little Red
Riding Hood. Speculum 67.3: 549-575.
Zipes, J. (1975). Breaking the Magic Spell: Politics and the Fairy Tale. New
German Critique 6: 116-135.
Zipes, J. (1993). Spinning with Fate: Rumpelstiltskin and the Decline of Female
Productivity. Western Folklore 52.1: 43-60.
Zipes, J. (1979). Breaking the Magic Spell: Radical Theories of Folk and Fairy
Tales. Austin: University of Texas.
Zipes, J. (2006). Why Fairy Tales Stick: The Evolution and Relevance of a Genre.
New York, London: Routledge.
568
Selma Raljevi
Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina
[email protected]
THE AESTHETICS OF SURVIVANCE IN GERALD VIZENOR'S
HIROSHIMA BUGI: ATOMU 57
Abstract This paper discusses Gerald Vizenor's 2003 novel Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu
57 within the context of identity construction in post-World War II Japan and the
Native American community of the White Earth Reservation. Through analysis of
Vizenor's kabuki meditation on survivance after nuclear devastation, the paper
will explore the cross-cultural link between the Ainu, the indigenous natives of the
island of northern Japan, and the Anishinaabe, the Native American tribe to which
the writer belongs.
The aim of this paper is to focus on a sense of native presence over Vizenors
notions of absence, victimry and nihility in both the traditional and the
contemporary world of Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu 57.
Key words: the aesthestics of survivance, Gerald Vizenor, Hiroshima, the identity
construction
1. Survivance in Gerald Vizenors native stories
Survivance is a word coined by Gerald Vizenor, a crossblood or a
mixedblood
1
Anishinaabe writer and scholar born in Minneapolis, Minnesota, in
1934, who follows his family through many generations on what is now the White
Earth Reservation in northern Minnesota. Vizenor identifies his work with the native
oral tradition and moreover, he describes his style of writing as a visual experience.
Reading his work is a difficult journey. As an original and experimental literary
artist whose work departs radically from traditional forms and techniques, he
challenges existing conventions in every literary genre. His native stories of
survivance are an active presence of indigenous people, and therefore an act of
resistance to dominant cultural narratives. Survivance for him means survival and
endurance, and is used to describe existence of minority cultures through
storytelling, ceremonies and way of thinking as well as acting in the community or
in the world that refuses domination and position of the victim. In the sense of native
survivance, it is even more than survival, more than endurance or mere response,
1
A crossblood or a mixedblood in Vizenors terminology means to be of mixed Indian and
European heritage.
569
since survivance in the native context is not only passive survival for Vizenor, but
active resistance as well. As the continuance of stories, the writer explains that
native survivance is an active presence over absence, deracination, and oblivion,
where the character of survivance creates the sense of native presence over nihility
and victimry. Vizenor points out that the nature of survivance is unmistakable in
native stories, natural reason, remembrance, traditions, customs, and clearly
observable in narrative resistance and personal attributes, such as his notions of the
native humanistic tease, vital irony, spirit, cast of mind, and moral courage.
2. Survivance within the context of identity construction in Vizenors
Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu 57
One of Vizenors stories of survivance, 2003 novel Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu 57,
which he calls a kabuki novel, stands for an aesthetic act of resistance to dominant
cultural narratives. The novel gives voice to voiceless peoples history, putting the
history of the native peoples in the U.S. in parallel with the history of the native
peoples of Japanese archipelago. In other words, Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu 57 makes
an explicit link between the Ainu, the indigenous natives of the island of northern
Japan, and the Anishinaabe, the Native American tribe to which the writer belongs.
The protagonist, Ronin Ainoko Browne, is a hafu, hybrid or mixedblood orphan
son of Okichi, a Japanese boogie-woogie dancer who is probably an Ainu from
Hokkaido, and of Nightbraker, an Anshinaabe from the White Earth Reservation
who served as an interpreter for General Douglas MacArthur during the first year of
the American occupation in Japan. Ronin is the human peace contender whose name
means a samurai with no lord or master during the feudal period (1185-1868) of
Japan. The word literally means wave man, and it is by definition used for a
wandering samurai, or a masterless warrior. Vizenors protagonist is sometimes
called a ronin by definition and not just by his given name. Hence, as a
mixedblood wandering warrior, Ronin functions as a metaphor for cross-cultural
encounters and cultural hybridity rather than for ethnic or racial mixing. In addition
to this, Elvira Pulitano in her 2003 study Toward a Native American Critical Theory
links all Vizenors crossblood characters by this feature. Moreover, Ronin, by his
origins, his way of thinking and acting in contemporary world as well as by his
name, embodies contradiction and ambiguity, and mediates between supposed
contradictory worlds of the spiritual or tribal and the real or modern existence. He is
in a constant fight for balance between opposite poles, interconnecting aspects of
both; still, he upsets the balance of dominant contemporary culture in its inability to
grasp fully the presence or legacy of nuclear devastation in Hiroshima. Thus,
Vizenors protagonist, like the writer himself, resists boundaries and singularity in
many ways. All this also suggests a categorical rejection of the notion of blood as a
marker of identity. Ronins very identity reflects contradictions and resists any
absolute definition, not in a position of victim, but celebrating survivance of his
570
marginal individuality. His marginality is a type of existence, and state of being as
well as way of being.
In Vizenors conception, energy of such a figure cannot actually be captured in
academic theory, but appears as the trickster identity. The trickster is itself
subversion of any mode of classification representing liberation and multiform. It is
the figure simultaneously old and new, which mediates between oppositions, plays
on the edge of metaphors, and who in his or her wandering, just like Ronin, makes a
spiritual balance between the forces of good and evil through humor in the urban
world. The unnamed third person narrator of Hiroshima tells the reader that
Ronin is the animal of his mind, a spirit by stories not by the possession of
sorcerers. He is a unique and ironic healer, a trickster by stories, not by character
simulations. (Vizenor 2003: 64) In a story within a narrators story Ronin says: I
am hafu, a ronin trickster by chance of my conception. (Vizenor 2003: 64) Like the
protagonist of Hiroshima Bugi, the native trickster has many names. In Vizenors
survivance narrative a name is a metaphor for a new personality or a different and
new social function. The trickster is not actually a specific character, but a figure
which Vizenor calls a comic holotrope. It is a chance and a figure of speech which
can manifest the creative force within individuals that allows them to liberate
themselves, break the rules, and move beyond the boundaries. Ronin, as the
trickster, distinguishes himself from identification with the culture he challenges,
makes or remakes, and therefore is simultaneously both central and marginal to his
either the U.S. or Japanese culture. This is why the trickster, including Ronin, is
never simply a character, but a figure of deliberate anomaly of language, or a
function of languages self-reconstructive power that can only be realized through
speech of an individual, so as to accommodate to changing natural or social
circumstances. Ronin even creates a new calendar that starts with the first use of
atomic bomb, on Atomu One. This means that his practice of survivance as natural
reason strives not toward loss but renewal and continuity of an active sense of
presence in the future rather than memorializing the past, especially if that past is
captured in simulation of dominance in museums, such as the Peace Memorial
Museum in Hiroshima. Besides, Vizenor writes the trickster tales that are
imaginative stories, discussion, engagement, discourse, liberation, and moreover,
they are energy and life; however, they are not theory, and they are not monologue
by his definition. The trickster is a language game with infinite range of possibilities
including satire, parody and travesty in a comic narrative. Therefore, as much as
Ronin is the trickster figure, Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu 57 is the trickster narrative.
Vizenors Hiroshima is a meditational discourse and a dialogue between
postcolonial theory and Native American paradigm with an intensely political, or
better, anti-political message. He incorporates a documentary collage into his
imagination, and offers two versions of the same story, where the first account is
given in the first person, and the second in the third omniscient person. Both the
protagonist and the narrator establish a literary dialogue between oral and written,
tribal dream songs and modern prose, myth and reality. The novel starts in the ruins
571
of the Atomic Bomb Dome, a new Rashomon Gate, and from its very beginning
upsets comfort of a contemporary world in supposed peace. On the one hand,
Vizenor criticizes the present political system wherein peace is maintained by the
threat of nuclear power; on the other hand, he seeks to articulate a vision that is
grounded in his tribal experience and American Indian mythology, incorporating the
oral into the written in order to set people free. His Hiroshima builds its story across
cultures, weaving Japanese culture and history with the Anishinaabe and using a
satirical deconstruction of a simulated construction made on immediate atomic
destruction in Hiroshima. The narrator informs readers that the Ainu and the
anishinaabe told similar stories about natural reason, their creation, animal totems,
and survivance. (Vizenor 2003: 51) In stories within stories within stories, which is
a technique that Vizenor calls word cinemas, lies the meaning between the stories
about both cultures that are based upon a world view which presumes that
everything in nature, be it tree, plant, animal, bird, stone, wind, or mountain, has a
life of its own and can interact with humanity. (Vizenor 2003: 51-52) The Ainu
tease their origins in the presence of kamuy spirits,(Vizenor 2003: 137) what the
Anishinaabe call manidoo, and both indigenous peoples create in their stories a
culture of survivance. (Vizenor 2003: 137) In Hiroshima Vizenor, through Ronin,
shows that cross-cultural dialogue does not destroy traditional beliefs and tribal
existence but rather is essential for survivance and new consciousness of co-
existence. In this context, Ronin tells the narrator, The Shino kami and the
anishinaabe manidoo are common ancestors in my dreams. (Vizenor 2003: 64)
Ronin is a dreamer with creative memories and visions, whose primary source are
animals and birds. The presence of animals and birds is a trace of natural reason,
while their creation in his visions and memories reveals a practice of native
survivance. Like Vizenor, Ronin communicates between myth and reality, between
tribal oral expression and contemporary written narrative. As the trickster, he
mediates between man and nature, and ends up nothing without representational
values. That is what he or it is; it is liberation. It is his or the tricksters figure
identity. Ronin, or a ronin, who as a mixedblood, as Vizenor says, loosens the seams
in the shrouds of identities, and as a trickster whose very identity reflects
contradictions, challenges individuals and the whole humanity to re-imagine who
they really are, victims or survivors, after the dropping the atomic bomb on
Hiroshima. At the end, both the protagonist of Hiroshima Bugi and his story become
a shadow that has a special meaning for Vizenor. In his conception, the shadows are
active memories of stories heard in silence that he tries to bring into being with his
writing as the imagination of tribal experience. He says that in Native literature
shadows do not need a source. Therefore, a story and its meaning can be discovered
only in the shadow spheres of oral tradition. In this context Kimberly M. Blaeser in
her study Writing in the Oral Tradition, published before Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu
57, recognizes Vizenors quality that into the telling of history he brings
imagination, which can also be recognized in his 2003 kabuki novel. In the last
chapter of Hiroshima, the narrator tells the reader that the protagonist:
572
has died many times over the manners and proprieties of an empire
nation that would not embrace the hafu children of the occupation Ronin is
loyal to the kami spirits of thousands of children who died when the atomic
bomb destroyed Hiroshima. He has resisted, countered, and accosted those who
endorsed notions of fake peace, as you know, and he has obstructed museums
in the name of war and peace There were times when he seemed convinced
that by shouts, encounters of the kami spirits, and trickery he could create
stories of human dignity and survivance, rather than the dead letters of
tradition, obedience to the emperor, and peace poses. (Vizenor 2003: 206)
As the narrator of the novel closes the story that in the light of all possibilities
of the trickster narrative could actually signify its opening, Ronin, a wandering
warrior of survivance, truly vanishes at the waterfront park, as it is said with an
explanation that the roamers and the veterans sensed his eternal presence. The novel
ends up while Ronins lover Miko, whose name is a Japanese word meaning
shaman of the ruins (Vizenor 2003: 76), in her visit to the White Earth
Reservation in Minnesota shouts Ronins names, atomu hafu, and hafu, the invisible
tattoos turn to bears. According to Kenneth Lincoln, trickster resists the boundaries
of any given species, and is likely to appear at any time in any image. Therefore, a
ronin as the trickster has an ability to be human or animal, individual or multiform,
not wholly human or deity, but simultaneously none and all of these because this
figure inhabits more than one region of being, and is also the face of the other(s).
Vizenors Hiroshima, in a sense of his kabuki novel, attains its own blend of
reality and unreality as well as balance between the sensuality and the ritual. This
kabuki play is a continuous performance tradition, in which, as narrator says,
Ronin, by his presence in the ruins, created a ritual, a nuclear kabuki theater that
teased and defied the preservation of peace. (Vizenor 2003: 13) Hiroshima Bugi:
Atomu 57 is also a creative satire of cultural, historical and religious notions where
birds, animals, and any transformation of the natural world are used as natural
reason to critique human sensibilities of the time. In this context, Ronin explains
what Hiroshima is for him, Hiroshima is my bugi dance, the peace pond my fire,
origami cranes my tease, the park roamers, ravens, mongrels my strain, and the
Peace Memorial Museum is my Hiroshima Mon Amor. (Vizenor 2003: 119) He
lectured some tourists that the new museum is named after the movie Hiroshima
Mon Amor. It is his bugi movie, as he says, because the new war on simulated
peace starts right here in the museum. The nuclear nights never end in a diorama of
victimry. (Vizenor 2003: 120) His opinion is if you see only the museum, you have
seen nothing in Hiroshima because museums bear the simulation of dominance that
both Ronin and Vizenor want to overcome by the simulation of survivance.
In Vizenors view, survival is keenly dependent on identity, which he creates
through language and literature. His Ronin is a mixedblood, and as the writer calls
it, a postindian wandering samurai. Vizenor explains that the identity of the Indian
is an absolute fake because the word has no referent in tribal languages and culture.
On the contrary, he recognizes postindian identity, which replaces the Indian
573
invention, and celebrates postindian warrior(s), like Ronin, who creates a new
tribal presence in stories. Although both categories still function through
simulations, their theatrical performances through simulation of survivance can
become a recreation of the real. It is also the case of the protagonist of Hiroshima
Bugi: Atomu 57, whose perfect memories arise from natural reason, experience,
communal wit, and native trickster stories linking post-World War Japan and Native
American Community of the White Earth Reservation. The narrator often explains
who Ronin or a ronin is, and he tells the reader:
Ronin is a storier of death, and by the evocation of bushido, his many
deaths are magic, an eternal end and trickery resurrection by another name, in
another character and presence. Death is his kabuki theater, his native
giveaway spirit.
Ronin creates words, names and turns combinations of words, some native
words, to intimate desire and the critical thrust of new ideas. Survivance, for
instance, is not merely a variation of survival, the act, reaction, or custom of
a survivalist. By survivance he means a vision and vital condition to endure,
to outwit evil and dominance, and to deny victimry. Ronin told me that
survivance is wit, natural reason, and perfect memory. Dominance, he said, is
inherited, a dead voice pursued by trickster stories. Tragic wisdom is heard in
stories of survivance, not dominance.
Dominance, he declared, honors victimry. (Vizenor 2003: 36)
3. Conclusion
In cross-cultural dialogue of Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu 57 between the Ainu and
the Anishinaabe after nuclear devastation, Gerald Vizenor shows that survivance is
invariably true in native practice and community in the U.S. as well as in Japan. He
writes to heal, creating irony, aesthetic of sentiments and survivance. The Hiroshima
dance between indigenous peoples and colonial powers develops natural concept of
new consciousness about their co-existence in a contemporary world. As well as the
trickster figure of Ronin or a ronin, the novel itself is liberation; it is an active
imaginative story written in an oral tribal context in which the reader becomes the
listener, and the trickster mediator, who actually makes the (hi)story. Thus, the
reader brings Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu 57 into being, and can experience the words
as events in both the U.S. and Japanese oral tradition. As long as the readers listen to
the story, it will live in its own energy and aesthetics of survivance.
574
Reference
Blaeser, K. M. (1996). Gerald Vizenor: Writing in the Oral Tradition, Norman:
University of Oklahoma Press
Lincoln, K. (1985). Native American Renaissance, Berkley and Los Angeles:
University of California Press
Pulitano, E. (2003). Toward a Native American Critical Theory, Lincoln: University
of Nebraska Press
Vizenor, G. (2003). Hiroshima Bugi: Atomu 57, Lincoln and London: University of
Nebraska Press
575
Sanja otari
Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina
sanjasos@ hotmail.com
POSTMODERNIST 'FORMLESSNESS' AS UNCOMMITTED
COMMITMENT IN DONALD BARTHELME'S AND ISHMAEL REED'S
FICTION
Abstract In contrast to critical observations that denied postmodernist literature any
serious oppositional quality with reference to the late twentieth-century western
culture (e.g. F. Jameson or T. Eagleton), and in line with critical acknowledgement
of its adversarial potential by a more sympathetic group of critics (e.g. L. Hutcheon,
L. McCaffery, P. Maltby, or S. Trachtenberg), the fiction of Donald Barthelme and
Ishmael Reed perfectly illustrates the ability of postmodernist literature to provide a
convincing and poignant cultural critique without ever becoming a socio-politically
engaged literature in a traditional, programmatically unequivocal sense.
In this context, the paper interprets formal experimentation in Barthelmes and
Reeds fiction as a significant aspect of a typically postmodernist stance of
uncommitted commitment that enabled these authors to be simultaneously detached
from and drawn into the wider social, political or ideological debate. The paper aims
to show that both Barthelme and Reed, in operating with the pastiche, the collage,
the inclusion of low culture forms, the absence of easily traceable plots, the
avoidance of psychological depths in characterization and the deliberate dwelling on
the surface, successfully foreground the problematic aspects of the late capitalist
culture and in so doing point at the inextricable connection between art and the
world, text and context.
Key words: postmodernism, late 20
th
century, oppositional literature, cultural
critique, uncommitted commitment, formal experimentation
1. Theoretical context
Donald Barthelme and Ishmael Reed are associated with what might be called
the first wave of postmodernism in American literature during the 1960s and the
1970s i.e. the so-called experimental postmodernism whose distinctive mark was
formal experimentation that some welcomed as a refreshing literary renewal, some
as annoying and unnecessary pretensiousness. Post-Marxist or pro-leftist critics such
as Fredric Jameson or Terry Eagleton have generally denied any serious oppositional
potential of such literature that they viewed as eccentrically obssessed with its own
metafictional procedures. In contrast to that line of criticism, I align with a more
sympathetic group of critics, such as Linda Hutcheon, Larry McCaffery, Paul
576
Maltby, or Stanley Trachtenberg, who have acknowledged adversarial or dissident
potential of experimental postmodernism. Thus, I will argue that the fiction of
Donald Barthelme and Ishmael Reed perfectly illustrates the ability of postmodernist
literature to provide a convincing and poignant cultural critique, even if that critique
is far from the traditional socio-politically engaged (and enraged) response. Rather
than being a deadly serious and programmatically unequivocal social or political
manifesto, postmodernist fiction of the period promoted a paradoxical and typically
ambiguous attitude of uncommited commitment that enabled the authors such as
Barthelme and Reed to be simultaneously comfortably detached from and
sufficiently drawn into the wider social, political or ideological debate.
2. Barthelmes midfiction
Furthermore, formal experimentation in this kind of fiction may serve two
different purposes, and frequently within the same short-story or novel and at the
same time: on the one hand, it may reinforce a detachment from the outside world
thus defining the given work of art as pure metafiction, on the other, the very form
frequently serves as a social or political commentary. In this context, Donald
Barthelme occupies a peculiar position, insofar as a recognizable metafictional
dimension of his work aligns him with major American postmodernist authors of the
1960s and 1970s (e.g. John Barth, Thomas Pynchon, Ishmael Reed), but at the same
time the metafictional dimension in Barthelme is just as often overshadowed by the
typically Barthelmian form that points to the outside reality of which his fiction is
part (Pynchon termed it Barthelmismo). For this reason, Stanley Trachtenberg
differentiated Barthelmes style from that of other postmodernist metafictionists of
the period and placed him between the extremes of traditional literary realism and
the full-blown postmodernist metafiction. Likewise, Larry McCaffery applied the
term midfiction rather than metafiction to Donald Barthelme and Robert Coover in
order to stress that their fiction does not abandon attempts to deal with the outside
world. Michael Hudgens used Barthelmes fiction as an example of postmodernist
fiction that includes a reaction to society and economic order, especially as
reflected and shaped in a mass media where confusion reigns, and incoherence and
hysteria are the norm (Hudgens 2001: vii). Finally, Barthelme himself stated in an
interview: theres a consistent social concern in my stories from the 1960s to the
present, slipped in while your attention is directed toward something elsebut its
there (Roe 1992: 110).
Throughout his seven short-story collections, from Come Back, Dr. Caligari to
Great Days and in two novels, Snow White and The Dead Father, all published
between 1964 and 1979, Barthelme polished to perfection his style of deliberate
formlessness as an expression of uncommitted commitment which enabled
Barthelme to combine the seriousness of a revolutionary with the complacency of a
bourgeois, the delicateness of an artist and the anarchism of a street hustler. His
formless form equally undermined the realist and the modernist narrative
577
conventions, either as the instrument of fiction about fiction, or as both the carrier
and the very mode of the socio-political commentary. Frequently, it was the very
form, manifested as minimalism, fragmentation, disruption of linearity and
chronology, suspension of logic, the inclusion of the absurd and the surreal, flat
characterization, the use of the collage and the pastiche, that made Barthelme sound
ambiguous, that is, both involved and aloof, or neither passionately dismissive nor
sympathetic. If it somewhat blunted the edge of his satire or sarcasm, or mitigated
the fury with a touch of sympathy or humor, it also suggested that his sympathy and
humor cannot be entirely trusted, always containing a poisonous sting that leaves the
nave reader stranded.
3. Fragmentation as the mirror-image of postmodernity
In Florence Green Is 81 from his first short-story collection Come Back, Dr.
Caligari (1964), as in many other stories, Barthelme uses fragmented form and
formally dwells on the surface thus turning the very form into a commentary on the
age bound to the surface and plagued by the sense of absurdity and futility. The
setting is a birthday dinner party of a rich and whimsical Mrs. Green who has just
turned 81. She repeatedly falls asleep at the table and the content of the story is a
disorderly combination of her stories about the past (travels with her late husband)
or about her everyday trivial pursuits (repair of the upstairs bathroom leak), told
during her occasional waking intervals, intertwined with the narrator Baskervilles
disconnected thoughts moving back and forth from one content to the next and with
his occasional participation in the absurd and boring table talk. Thus, useless
geographic data (e.g. about the river Ob or the smallest town in California) randomly
mingle in Baskervilles mind with his assessment of a new girl at the table round, his
feeling of tension, his appreciation of Andrew Jacksons historical role, his fondness
of weightlifting, his thinking of his incomplete novel, his analysis of Florence
Greens personality, his memories of unfavorable remarks of his former
schoolteachers about himself, his ironic inner comments on other guests at the party,
or his phantacizing about Mandrake the Magician. Diverse fragments of thought
and/or conversation are neither logically ordered, nor visibly separated or marked,
superseding one another without any signal to the reader, which results in a text that
turns the potential frame-event of a party into a cacophony of voices and
observations. Importantly, Barthelme deliberately hinders suggestions that the
disparate elements might still be harmonized into some over-riding pattern or plan,
mocking the modernist search for symbolic meanings or the apprehension of some
hardly communicable yet possible unity. Instead, Barthelme upholds the tension
between the fragments, leaving them non-reconciled next to one another, suggesting
the surface made up of disparate parts is and must be sufficient, while depth
becomes a highly suspicious term, unrevealed and unrevealing, perhaps even
another illusion or at least something that may not exist at all as a neatly extricable
category, independent of and superior to the surface. As Jerome Klinkowitz has
578
pointed out, the innovation is not merely in disrupting linear sequences or a single
plot, but in having several narrative lines themselves disrupted by apparently
random information, second and third stories, and references to entirely different
things (Klinkowitz 1991: 21). The co-existence of several stories alongside one
another slows down the reading, draws attention to action itself, namely the talking
and the thinking, and prevents the search for meaning: in the end there is no
reordering after disorder, no conclusion and no synthesis.
The narrator and protagonist Baskerville is alternately presented in the third
and the first person, which hinders our suspension of disbelief, because the third-
person passages undermine the intimacy of the first-person accounts reminding us
that Baskerville is only a character in a story. Baskerville seems both incapable of
and disinterested in producing a coherent story, and thus becomes an authentic
representative of the late-20th centurys skepticism. Deprived of last traces of belief
in the higher purpose of life, Baskerville suffers from a desperate smartness that
prevents him from believing in the reliability of any knowledge. In a story revealing
a frustrated and skeptical anti-hero through a series of disconnected fragments,
fragmentation at once becomes characterization and a social commentary, because
Baskerville is clearly a product and a symptom of his age.
Self-conscious thirty-seven-year old Baskerville reflects and reproduces the
sense of postmodern alienation and absurdity regardless of the direction which his
jumbled mind takes. He is equally insecure about his artistic talent, his role as a
narrator, his manliness and the significance of his life or life in general. As a would-
be writer, he attends a creative writing course at the Famous Writers School in
Westport, Connecticut, [] with the object of becoming a famous writer
(Barthelme 1964: 3), while his unfinished novel has been eleven years in the
making. As a narrator, he is upset about possible reaction of the readers, aware that
he somehow betrays their expectations and fails to satisfy their intellectual needs.
Baskervilles sense of artistic deficiency is accompanied with his personal anxieties
related to chronic money shortage, drinking, and to a series of failed relationships
with women to the effect that his love life resulted in him being the father of one
abortion and four miscarriages (Barthelme 1964: 5) all of which suggest
incompleteness and incoherence. That Baskerville edits a magazine called The
Journal of Tension Reduction in which he plans to publish an article entitled
Alcohol Reconsidered adds to the image of anxiety and insecurity that determines
him. Humbled by elusiveness of both success and truth, unable to make sense of
situations and events around him, he practices self-scrutiny that only amplifies his
passivity and makes him relapse into a position of reluctant acceptance. During the
party, his interest in the girl does not move beyond a brief and uninteresting
conversation, as if both he and she lack the will power to continue the worn-out
game of the sexes. When she skeptically answers she doesnt know why she has two
children as an answer to his equally skeptical question: Why did you do it?, he
merely acknowledges the modesty of her answer (Barthelme 1964: 15) and moves
on. Thus, Baskerville represents the age resigned to incompleteness and utterly
deprived of solemn gestures, grand projects or reliable conclusions. Yet, all the time,
579
the disillusionment is reinforced through the very form of the story, an incoherent
sequence of fragments emanating from a confused postmodern anti-hero
Baskerville.
4. The failure of language
Beside fragmentation, Barthelme introduces characters paralyzed by the
vulgarization and inflation of language that has lost its ability to communicate
authentic experience. Baskerville (as well as other guests at the party) is affected by
this decay of language both as a would-be-artist and a citizen. Numerous
Barthelmes characters (e.g. the Snow White and the dwarves in Snow White) are
exposed to the meaningless language flow, phrases and clichs the verbal garbage
of the age that they mindlessly reproduce all the while mistrusting words, symbols
or the very communication rules. Baskerville too wrestles with language, acutely
aware of its arbitrariness, e.g. when he tries to accurately describe the eccentricity of
Mrs. Green: Surely Florence Green is a vastly rich vastly egocentric old-woman
nut! Six modifiers modify her into something one can think of as a nut (Barthelme
1964: 14), while his mistrust of language again becomes a sign of general inability
of the postmodern man to live naturally and innocently. In this story as in many
others characters talk little and their communication with others results in
misunderstanding or hostility or it just reconfirms the distance. Importantly, the
characters solipsism is of a less sophisticated kind than that of famous modernist
introverts (Joyces Stephen Dedalus or Manns Gustav von Aschenbach, or Prousts
characters), and their trains of thought never spill over into epiphanies or intimations
of transcendence of any kind. Instead, both the spoken and unspoken dilemas and
frustrations of characters such as Baskerville only underlie the chaos of postmodern
living, while their confused response to a range of issues reveals disorientation.
Thus, Florence Green Is 81 appropriately ends with Baskerville alone in his car
driving in idiot circles in the street singing Kyrie Eleison (Barthelme 1964: 16).
5. Metafiction
On the metafictional level, this is another story that contains Barthelmes
aesthetic views which serve as a justification and an explanation of the very form in
which they are embedded. Thus, Baskerville connects literature with remarks,
because, when asked what he has written so far, he answers I mostly make
remarks, which is immediately dismissed by the girls reply Remarks are not
literature (Barthelme 1964: 10), and it becomes clear that she represents the
traditional reader. Barthelme used a similar procedure in See the Moon? from the
collection Unspeakable Practices, Unnatural Acts (1968), where the skeptical
protagonist of another fragmented story declares: Fragments are the only forms I
trust (Barthelme 2003: 100), which simultaneously describes Barthelmes
580
aesthetics, contributes to the characterization and serves as an indirect commentary
on the age. In Florence Green Is 81 Barthelme made another typical metafictional
remark annoying the critics who in the early 1960s had dismissed postmodernist
experimentation as nonsense, in having Baskerville reply to his teacher who claims
that discursiveness is not literature: The aim of literature is the creation of a strange
object covered with fur which breaks your heart (Barthelme 1964: 14).
6. Metafiction and its socio-political context
Apart from general disorientation and disillusionment of postmodernity,
Barthelmes fiction comments on a variety of concrete issues that have defined the
social, cultural and political reality of the late 20
th
century, and frequently he
operates with the form which is itself a commentary. Barthelmes commentary is
frequently intertwined with the metafictional theme, e.g. when he is unmasking the
arbitrariness/fictionality of various systems, theories and disciplines - from
government over religion, journalism, media, marriage, to Freudian theory,
existentialism, literary criticism or psychiatry. Among recurrent themes that he
targets is the profanization of love in the postmodern age. Generally, marital and
extramarital relationships in Barthelmes fiction are temporary, invariably bleak,
stifling and unhappy, testifying to emotional numbness and the mistrust of romantic
clichs among the skeptical and neurotic urban population. Marriage is shown as a
largely unfortunate institution, a ridiculous residue of old times that inevitably
leaves the partners entrapped. Yet many meaninglessly tarry until the next marriage
or relationship that soon turns equally dreary. The form reinforces the theme in To
London and Rome (Come Back, Dr. Caligari). In this story, the emptiness of
married life is placed in the higher class context, where Alison and Peter spend their
time trying to compensate for the frustration by spending money on expensive
hobbies, such as a racing horse, houses, pianos and airplanes, or Peters occasional
visits to his mistress. The most exciting event in their life becomes the stomach
poisoning of the horse that has been overstuffed on fried clams. However, the entire
story is written in two parallel columns in such a manner that the left-hand column
resembling stage directions indicates pauses, silences or short and long intervals
during or between the minimalist, boring conversations between husband and wife,
thus underlying their mutual estrangement and hostility as well as boredom and
pointlessness of their life together.
In The Rise of Capitalism (Sadness), Barthelme focuses on a more concretely
political theme, namely consumerism as a weapon of the state in the creation of
submissiveness of the masses or, to use Chomskys phrase, in the manufacturing of
consent. Here, Barthelme explores how the man-created systems conspire to shape
public consciousness into accepting the existing order by presenting it as natural. In
this story, Barthelme presented consumerism as the main capitalist weapon in the
maintenance of the system of economic, political and social inequality, stating that
581
the purpose of deliberate encouragement of mass consumerism is cultural
underdevelopment of the worker (Barthelme 2003: 201). Capitalist ideology is thus
unmasked as another fictional system that, no less than religion, journalism or
science, tries to represent its conclusions as natural and normal to the effect that
the false consciousness created and catered to by mass culture perpetuates
ignorance and powerlessness (Barthelme 2003: 201). At the same time, the
protagonist Rupert, despite his clear understanding of the workings of capitalism,
remains passive (in the beginning he describes his attitude as one of melancholy
sadness), which illustrates that awareness alone is insufficient for a social change.
Thus, Rupert is fully integrated in the social and economic order with investment
and credit, so his analysis of capitalism lacks conviction, reducing a Marxist
discourse whose elements it borrows to a parrotlike invocation of maxims (Maltby
1991: 67). Here, Barthelme demonstrates the assimilative potential of late capitalism
that disables serious oppositional action and his fiction by virtue of this
demonstration becomes oppositional. The story is written in bulleted fragments
clearly separated from one another, which reinforces the sense of the protagonists
paralysis and passivity.
To conclude, Barthelmes experimentation includes fragmentation ranging
from the unmarked collage as in Florence Green is 81 over separated but marked
fragments as in The Rise of Capitalism to extremely short, one-sentence fragments
marked by dashes where the entire stories consist of nothing else but a series of
dashed one-liners. This line of experimentation possibly culminated in the
Sentence, a story written as a single long sentence. Barthelme also used a variety
of other devices not considered here, e.g. beside the abovementioned parallel
columns, he inserted drawings, photos, or black boxes in the text, or borrowed from
popular culture (comics or film). Yet, Barthelmes formal playfulness does not serve
exclusively his metafictional concerns, but itself repeatedly functions as a direct or
indirect commentary on the given social or political theme. In many ways it is
because of its form that Barthelmes fiction can be viewed as both a hilarious
distortion of the late 20th-century reality and its somewhat overblown reflection, and
in many ways his formal innovation defines Barthelmes paradoxical (and as such
almost naturally postmodernist) attitude the celebration of postmodern lifes
vitality despite its absurdity and the condemnation of its absurdity despite its
vitality.
7. Reeds rewriting of the dominant discourse
Ishmael Reeds experimentation with form in Mumbo Jumbo (1972) is tied to a
similarly playful and lucid critique of the white western culture, more specifically of
its stifling obsession with order and form. In this masterfully handled historiographic
metafiction, Reed rewrites Western history as the history of systematic repression of
the non-white, irrational Other. Moreover, he shows that Western civilization (the
Atonist Order) has deliberately established an artificial dichotomy between itself and
582
the African (American) culture, embodied in various forms of black music (Jes
Grew) and voodoo, suggesting that the western obstinate insistence on rationality
and the persistence in banishing the irrational and the intuitive into the realm of the
Other resulted in an inhibited and dead culture that has cut itself off from the very
source of vitality and freedom. However, Mumbo Jumbo celebrates the Atonists
failure to contain the Other e.g. Jes Grew epidemics in New Orleans that they
see as the end of the Civilization As We Know It (Reed 1988: 4) and shows that
the hope for the future lies in the overcoming of construed binary oppositions:
rationality-irrationality, reason-intuition, restraint-freedom, or order-chaos. Atonism
promotes the dictate of reason and its institutions and apparatuses guard the status
quo, repressing the Other the instinctual, the differences, the mysterious, the
multiple, the nonrational, the non-European, Woman, and the animal (Hogue 2009:
154.) On the other hand, the forces of voodoo and the allies of Jes Grew gathered
around the voodoo detective Papa La Bas and his Mumbo Jumbo Kathedral counter
the moves of the Atonists by promoting improvisation, flexibility, adaptability,
heterogeneity, creativity. Nevertheless, Reed modifies the old story about the clash
between the forces of evil and good in that he breaks a rigid binary opposition by
showing that individuals on both sides are capable of accepting at least some
characteristics associated with the other value system, revealing cracks in the
professed monolithic uniformity of the opposed blocks. Consistently, Reed blurs the
boundaries showing that voodoo and jazz are but another face of Atonism, i.e. its
repressed Other that resurfaces during the Jes Grew pandemic, and refuses to
construct a reversed binary opposition that would one-sidedly favor Jes Grew
culture. Instead, he emphasizes the advantages of cultural openness and fluidity, not
only to affirm the alterity of the devalued Other (Jes Grew), but also to accentuate
the liberating force of cultural delimitation that ridicules all attempts to capture the
fixed identity of any periphery or center. Like Barthelme, Reed uses the open
form to illustrate and reinforce his agenda.
8. Disruption of traditional narration and the cultural critique
Therefore, Mumbo Jumbo is a novel whose very form challenges all the basic
assumptions of white, Eurocentric, Western rationality. As with many other
postmodernist authors, Reeds undermining of novelistic conventions means the
rejection of the ideological and cultural framework that engendered them. In other
words, since, in his opinion, white, Western novel is a reflection of white, Western
epistemology and metaphysics, Reed decides to challenge the traditional concepts
that have dictated the writing of novels for centuries, such as those of linearity,
chronology and closure, but in so doing he uses African-American cultural signs
(jazz and voodoo) and starts his deconstruction from what the white culture had been
long confining to the cultural periphery. Therefore, the action in the novel is non-
linear, and the novel itself is a collection of numerated fragments that include
quotations, photographs, drawings, epigrams, facsimiles of letters, copies of
583
handbills, pseudo-academic footnotes and a bibliography at the end. Ultimately, the
novel represents a blend of jazz, voodoo, necromancy, romance, detective story,
myth, Egyptology, hagiography, Western church history, American history, and the
fantasy tale. Reed aptly compared his collage technique to the Cajun gumbo, thus
referring to the eclecticism of the same New Orleans culture of voodoo and jazz that
in the novel becomes the main stronghold of the creative opposition to the
constrictions of white, western rationality. Indeed, Mumbo Jumbo is as eclectic as
voodoo, as improvisational as jazz: the story about the outbreak of the Jes Grew
epidemics in New Orleans of the 1920s, the Atonist attempts to contain the virus
and the search on both sides for the sacred Book of Thoth (Jes Grews sacred text)
jumps back and forth following, or more precisely, introducing, abandoning and
reintroducing several other stories along the way. Jazz becomes the novels main
structural paradigm to the effect that characters and patches of stories disappear and
reappear in the manner of musical leitmotif. Consciously imitating a jazzman, Reed
improvises, plays every recurrent theme slightly differently, or combines themes
imitating the call and response technique in jazz playing. Thus, he creates a unique
novelistic texture consisting of stories and themes that are fragmented yet
intertwined, disrupted yet reconfirmed, resulting in the polyphonic simultaneity of
melodies and views. The history of the competition between the Wallflower Order
and that of the Knights Templar, one among many melodies Reed plays, is a
good illustration of his technique. In the opening section of the novel in which Reed
borrowed from film, introducing the situation and characters in several brief shots
before moving to the novels title page and the impressum, the Wallflower Order is
briefly mentioned for the first time, being identified as the main Atonist antagonist
of Jes Grew. The next reference to the order is found several sections later (section
3), this time enlarging on the basic theme by virtue of a fleeting remark about the
splitting of the Wallflower Order with another knightly order in the past that left the
former as the sole protector of the cherished traditions of the West against Jes
Grew (Reed 1988: 15). By and by the background of this conflict that turns out to
be of central importance to the story about Jes Grew frenzy in the 1920s will be
clarified in the subsequent sections in the manner of musical improvisation,
combining repetition with the enlargement and expansion of the well-known theme.
Gradually, more and more details are revealed with every successive mention as we
move towards the novels end. Thus, we learn that the rival order is the Knights
Templar and we are introduced to its history that explains why it had been
discredited by the Atonists in the past, why almost all its members were executed
and how it came that Hinckle Von Vampton, a former librarian of the order who had
come into possession of the sacred Book of Thoth in the Middle Ages and the
Grand Master of the surviving Knights Templar (Reed 1988: 67) in the novels
present, became a key player in both the resurgence and the (temporary) dissolution
of the Jes Grew virus in the American South during the 1890s and 1920s.
Occasionally, Reeds improvisation includes the introduction of an apparently new
element first and its subsequent embedding in the previously developed theme.
584
Thus, when Vampton is first introduced in section 14, the reader has no clue as to
his real significance in the story, but it is revealed soon enough in the following
discontinued sections. However, the story of the Knights Templar is a melody
among a variety of other melodies with which it weaves a magnificent improvised
jazz-like tune of Mumbo Jumbo. In this manner, Reed created a work whose very
form reinforces his main theme about the necessity of overcoming the rigidity and
constrictions of white cultural forms by achieving a fusion that would enrich all.
Moreover, in the novels epilogue Reed operates with metafiction, suggesting that
Mumbo Jumbo might be a symptom of the new Jes Grew revival in the 1970s,
embodied in the white cultures belated appreciation of blues, the rise of rocknroll
and other Pagan Mysteries (Reed 1988: 216). Still alive and well in the 1970s,
PaPa LaBas rejoices that the 20s were back again and concludes, undermining
western humanist teleology: Time is a pendulum. Not a river. More akin to what
goes around comes around (Reed 1988: 218). This is followed by a poetic voice
that ends the novel with reference to time and place of its completion: 1971,
Berkeley, California, suggesting Jes Grew has come around with Mumbo Jumbo in
the readers hand as its latest incarnation.
9. Anti-logocentrism, the open form and the cultural critique
Similar to Barthelme and other postmodernist authors, Reed uses fragmentation
and disruption of linearity to undermine another Western humanist assumption
that language is the instrument of efficient mastering of knowledge. He challenges
the liberal-humanist optimism regarding the efficiency of language to accurately
describe life, anchored in western logocentrism, by creating in Mumbo Jumbo a
postmodern plot focused on the phenomenon of Jes Grew that exemplifies and
confirms poststructuralist and postmodernist theories of language. Jes Grew comes
in different shapes and in different historical periods, however its exact meaning or
definition remains elusive, as it resists any systematic categorization. Rather than a
single phenomenon, it is a sum of temporally or spatially separated and seemingly
unrelated phenomena, yet again, upon a closer look, the connection does exist. In the
latter part of the novel it becomes clear that the New Orleans Jes Grew pandemic of
the 1920s is only the most recent manifestation of the ancient Egyptian cults
associated with the myths of Osiris and Isis, just as the dichotomy between white
culture of rationality and the African-American culture of intuition in the early 20
th
century can be traced back to the original opposition between worldviews embodied
in the rational, stern and repressed Set and his passionate, exalted, theater-loving
brother Osiris. In this alternative world history, Reed again denies teleology and the
idea of linearity, suggesting a cyclical view of history represented as an eternal site
of struggle of principles, calling to mind Nietzsches philosophical and Yeats poetic
and esoteric extravagancies. Set, as the inventor of discipline, drill, military
marching and commanding is shown in the novel as the father of all future cultures
based on repression of emotions, including Christianity or generally monotheism,
585
and capitalism. By the same token, the tradition of Osiris lives on even before it
revamps much later as Jes Grew, namely in the Osirian and Dionysian cults of
ancient Greece and thereafter in cultures, such as African and Southern European, in
which Egyptian paganism got partially assimilated in the triumphant Christianity to
the effect that they kept on Isis as Virgin Mary, and Mary in turn became the
mother of the Atonist compromise Jesus Christ (Reed 1988: 170), i.e. of a feeble
version of Osiris (and Dionysus).
Nevertheless, the outlining of Jes Grews origin further mystifies rather than
clarifies its exact nature, because Jes Grew repeatedly fails in reconnecting with its
essence and the key to all meaning the sacred Book of Thoth. The story about the
failed attempts of the Atonists and Jes Grew avatars to come by the Book to ensure
the ultimate defeat or victory of their respective philosophy illustrates postmodernist
view of language as a provisional device characterized by constant deferral of
meaning. The eternal elusiveness of the signified (The Book of Thoth) is thus
reinforced through and substituted by a play of signifiers (diverse manifestations of
the principle that the Book symbolizes). Furthermore, even the Book itself, the
scribe Thoths record of the dance steps demonstrated by Osiris, is non-dogmatic
and open in that it allows for permanent modification of dances in dependence on
the geographical and climatic environment. Therefore, Jes Grew lives only in the
actual performance that builds upon the supposed ur-text, i.e. it owes its spell to
improvisation and modification in the manner of bluesmen or jazzmen. Thus, Reed
abolishes the hierarchy that privileges the original text as an indisputable source of
truth in contrast to interpretations, showing that interpretation and improvisation is
all, e.g. that the meaning hovers somewhere at the intersection of all the past and
future interpretations. Therefore, Reeds Moses is a character who illustrates
devastating consequences of rigid adhering to the written wisdom of the Book. Since
his soulless and flat performance of the songs and dances from the Book lacks
improvisation and spirit, the ears of the people began to bleed (Reed 1988: 183),
while the Osirians outplay him without the Book because they feel the spirit of the
Osirian music. Overly rational and inhibited Moses prohibits wild dancing, failing to
see that the Book turns into a lethal weapon in the hands of all who like himself set
to reproducing merely its naked core or shell, the recorded form of songs. Inevitably,
his dealing with the Book of Thoth therefore brings about nuclear destruction in
ancient Egypt, setting the pattern for future disasters that will be brought upon the
world by the western civilization which is to walk in Moses footsteps. At the same
time, Reed ridicules anyones attempts to claim the Book for a specific ideology, in
the manner of the Books translator and African-American islamist Abdul Hamid,
who finally burned it, frustrated over his inability to adjust it to his ideas, unable to
purge it of the evil serpent of carnality (Reed 1988: 202). Rather than pinning
down the meaning, Reed recommends openness toward constant improvising and
reinterpretation of tradition that will open unprecedented possibilities for both white
and black culture and show the way toward the fusion of voices and melodies. The
open form of Mumbo Jumbo proves that this is possible precisely at the point when
586
mumbo jumbo stops being a meaningless language of the Other, but the expression
of creative and cultural freedom that transcends myriad unnecessary distinctions
between Self and Other, black and white, new and old(to be completed by the
reader).
References
Barthelme, D. (1964). Come Back, Dr. Caligari, Boston and Toronto: Little, Brown
and Company.
Barthelme, D. (2003). Sixty Stories, New York and London: Penguin Books.
Hogue, W. L. (2009). Postmodern American Literature and Its Other, Urbana and
Chicago: University of Illinois Press.
Hudgens, M. T. (2001). Donald Barthelme, Postmodernist American Writer,
Lewiston, NY: The Edwin Mellen Press.
Klinkowitz, J. (1991). Donald Barthelme, An Exhibition, Durham: Duke University
Press.
McCaffery, L. (1982). The Metafictional Muse, Pittsburgh: The University of
Pittsburgh Press.
Maltby, P. (1991). Dissident Postmodernists: Barthelme, Coover, Pynchon,
Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.
Reed, I. (1988). Mumbo Jumbo, New York: Simon and Schuster.
Roe, B. (1992). Donald Barthelme, A Study of the Short Fiction, New York:
Twayne.
587
Ivana Trajanoska
Skopje, Macedonia
[email protected]
WORD AND IMAGE IN DOROTHY RICHARDSONS PILGRIMAGE:
PICTORIALISM AND GENDER IDENTITY IN POINTED ROOFS
Abstract Working on the connection between the pictorial presence and the act of
memory in Dorothy Richardsons Pilgrimage, I tried to show that the act of
memory, the primary force in this thirteen-volume novel, opens the text to the
pictorial and leaves pictorial proofs onto its body. Using the typology scale of
Liliane Louvel, I have traced down a substantial part of the effets tableaux, the
picturesque views, the aesthetic arrangements, the pictorial descriptions, the
tableaux vivants, the ekphrasis, and various substitutes of the pictorial in Pointed
Roofs, the first of the thirteen volumes. In this paper, I would like to put an accent on
the connection between the pictorial presence in Pilgrimage and the theme of
identification and acceptance of the gendered self through textual analysis of
Pointed Roofs.
Key words: Dorothy Richardson, Pilgrimage, Pointed Roofs, word and image,
pictorialism, gender identity
1. Pilgrimage, an act of memory
Alongside with the personal pilgrimage of the protagonist, Pilgrimage
incorporates the pilgrimage of painting. This artistic pilgrimage is the pilgrimage of
the pictorial presence in the text itself. The novel abounds in effets tableaux,
picturesque views, aesthetic arrangements, pictorial descriptions, tableaux vivants,
ekphrasis, and in the many substitutes for the pictorial. The textual presence of
paintings and pictures, and other examples of the visual arts make Pilgrimage a text-
image.
The starting point of this pilgrimage of painting is the act of memory which is
crucial for many aspects of the novel thus to its pictorialism as well. First, its
circular form is memorys merit; the protagonist, Miriam Henderson, commences
her pilgrimage in Pointed Roofs, the starting point of her journey but also the
beginning of her becoming a writer. Second, through memory, the protagonist
experiences the awakening moment - the moment when the strange, independent
joy had begun (Richardson 1979: 316) and accomplishes ultimate autonomy by
realizing the Now, the eternal moment (Richardson 1979: 65). Memory unites the
past, the present, and the future and enables Miriam to liberate and embrace herself.
588
The act of memory, the primary force in this thirteen-volume novel, opens the text to
the pictorial and leaves pictorial proof onto its body.
Paul Ricoeur (Ricoeur 2000: 7) in his work Memory and Imagination noted
that the past is represented by images. According to him, the only possible way for a
memory to be retrieved is through its becoming an image. Furthermore, he argues
that language makes memory a source of imagination as well. Pilgrimage, an act of
memory, an account of the protagonists pilgrimage rendered through her memory,
consequently becomes a gallery of images moulded by real paintings and pictorial
representations. Pilgrimage evinces the power of memory but also its magic; the
magic and the art of remembering. In Pilgrimage, art i.e. literature calls on another
art i.e. the visual art and between Pilgrimages lines these two artistic expressions
interlace. The act of memory creates a complex syncretism, yields an additional
aesthetic value to the novel, and celebrates its pictorial aspect making it a text-
image.
In this article I will analyze the pictorial aspect of Pilgrimage through excerpts
from Pointed Roofs, the first volume of the sequence, a starting point and a
destination of this circular novel; a chapter which speaks about the central theme of
identification and acceptance of the gendered self. The analysis of the pictorial
aspect of Pointed Roofs provides a new perspective in the exploration of Miriams
quest for feminine identity and will show how its pictorial aesthetics is linked to the
theme of gender identity.
2. Pilgrimage, a text-image
Jean Hagstrom in The Sister Arts notes: In order to be called pictural a
description or an image must be in its essentials, capable of translation into painting
or some other visual art (Hawkins-Dady 1996: 891). The nature of the image can be
purely pictorial or more allusive like the mnemonic or oniric image. So, is
Pilgrimage translatable into a kind of visual art? Are there pictorial manifestations,
references to visual arts, textual images translatable into paintings in Pilgrimage?
Undoubtedly, Pilgrimage can be translated into a grand mosaic, into a film, in Carol
Watts reference into a text-image and it is clearly brimming with the pictorial as I
will try to demonstrate using Pointed Roofs.
The pictorial aspect in Pilgrimage has not passed unnoticed by the critics but it
has not been studied systematically yet. Carol Watts, for example, talks about the
play of light in Pilgrimage using the expression kaleidoscopic impressionism
(Watts 1995: 36). John Cowper Powys finds in her work Rembrandts play of lights
as well (Powys 1965: 19). However, the criteria for these analogies are mainly
subjective. They depend on the cultural background of the critic and they are a
matter of interpretation. What interests me are the textual indications to visual arts,
fragments or entire paintings, and other examples of visual arts embedded in the text
itself. The pictorial saturation of the 13-volume novel varies but it is in general very
strong in every one of them. In order to examine the pictorial aspect of Pointed
589
Roofs, I will not refer to pictorial manifestations outside the text (various
biographical elements, such as her marriage to the painter Alain Odle etc.). I will not
make any semantic or thematic parallels either inside or outside the text with any
artistic movement. I am purely interested in the pictorial characteristics of Pointed
Roofs which are part and parcel of the text. Thus I will first analyse the act of
translation or transformation of a text into an image. The logical question that comes
to mind is how can a text be transformed into an image?
The relation between the text and the image can be described as a twinkling
(Louvel 2002: 316). It is a kind of an oscillation, a constant process of coming and
going, a two-way switch between the text and the image that makes the act of
reading unstable and plural. So, how can an iconic representation be transposed into
a text? How can a text become an image? How is the transfer between these two
semiotic systems made?
In her book Texte/Image, Liliane Louvel notes that in order to make the transfer
from the visible to the readable and vice versa, it is essential to find the right
distance between the object and the spectator (Louvel 2002: 287). The process that
occurs in that space is oscillation, oscillation between the act of observing from
close and afar. She distinguishes three indispensable elements for the transfer to take
place, the detail or the result from looking from close, landscape and enframing - the
result from observing from afar and the observer or the focalizer. I shall analyse
each of these elements in relation to Pilgrimage.
Pilgrimage abounds in detailed descriptions of rooms, pieces of clothing, faces,
sounds, colours, odours etc. Their connection with the plot and the characters is
seldom straightforward. Regarded as either merit or fault by the critics, it is difficult
to relate the detail to the structure of the novel. This mosaic of particularities,
Radford notes, makes it hard to see the overall pattern (Radford 1991: 17).
The detail can have many roles; it slows down the reading, suspends the
meaning, and gives the reader time to ask questions. It gives voice to the text and
leads to contemplation and interrogation. Having in mind the quest for religious,
gender, and personal identity that Pilgrimage embodies, it is important to state the
revelational function of the detail. It makes the traces of a presence that needs to be
discovered visible. It gives evidence that enables the quest. The detail is a scriptural
manifestation of the narrators memory and it participates in the encoding of the
text.
It is evident that the detail can be examined from various standpoints; as an
expression of Richardsons hermeneutic quest; her wish to connect with the reader
and give him/her an opportunity to attach his/her own associations to the text; or as a
sign of her effort to attain a reality effect.
Roland Barthes noted that the detail is unnecessary and superfluous for the
structure of a novel (Radford 1991: 18). However, in the case of Pilgrimage the
detail is indispensable for the sake of its very structure.
In Pilgrimage, a novel where the structure fits the way memory works,
Richardsons microscope does not spoil her writing, on the contrary. It represents a
590
viewpoint, as Mieke Bal defines the detail in relation to the work of Proust (Bal
1997: 65), without which the process of translation from visible to readable is
impossible. The detail makes room for art, for paintings, for images. It transposes
the words into brushstrokes. Connected to image and iconotextuality, it enables
expression.
Jean Radford defines the detail in connection to Pilgrimage as a device that
serves to delay or impede meaning-construction, to slow up the reading and hold
up the development of the whole (Radford 1991: 11). By slowing down the
action, the details make a painting. In this synesthesia of the readable and the visible,
the details paint.
There are many examples of landscapes in Pilgrimage as well; most of them
framed by a window. The window is regarded as a device of the iconotext and a
device for abstraction which leads to representation. The framing helps and points to
the process of dismemberment and regrouping of the past. The landscape, on the
other hand, directs the view towards infinity. It opens the text to painting and reveals
the hidden presence. Thus painting and literature mediate between the subject and
his/her perception and teach him to observe. The narrator transforms the landscape
into a painting; hence the landscape in Pointed Roofs is at the same time a
perspective, a painting, a memory. It reinforces the meaning of the text; it saturates
it, and gives it a hybrid status.
The pictorial saturation of a text is incomplete and sometimes impossible
without an intercessor or a focalizer. The narrator and the protagonist can take this
role of a focalizer. The narrator details the view of the protagonist, decomposes it
and then recomposes it trough the power of memory. This is the case in Pilgrimage
even though it can be debated whether the narrator and the protagonist in
Richardsons work are the same entity represented at different point in time only.
Furthermore, one often has the impression that Miriam wants to enter the image she
created and merge the boundaries of space and time. According to Liliane Louvel,
the wish to enter the painting makes a union between space and time due to the
aesthetic experience i.e. when sensibility produces aesthetics, space and time unite
(Louvel 2002: 207). The gradual liberation of the protagonists fantasies signals her
desire to be in the painting and enables her to project her fantasies on the paintings,
images or landscapes screen. It marks the attempt to make the mnemonic image
(the memory) coincide with an image (the landscape seen as a painting, an image-
seen-as-a-painting, a painting) thus enabling the return of suppressed memories and
repressed feelings; Paul Klee notes Art does not reproduce the visible rather it
makes visible (Louvel 2002: 207).
3. Pictorialism and gender identity in Pointed Roofs
According to Liliane Louvels typology, there are several devices that point to
the pictorial aspect of a novel and they are: the effet tableau, the aesthetic
arrangement, the pictorial description, the tableau vivant, and the ekphrasis. Placed
591
on this typology scale according to their intensity, they all saturate the text with the
pictorial. There are many examples of these devices in Pointed Roofs. However, in
this article I would refer to the ones that deal with the theme of gender identity and
Miriams quest for genuine femininity.
The aesthetic arrangement, also called artistic arrangement, is the result of the
conscious intention of the narrator or the protagonist to create an artistic effect. The
narrator in Pointed Roofs creates the following image:
The sky was a vivid grey-against its dark background the tops of
heavy masses of cloud were standing up just above the roof-line of the
houses beyond the neighbouring gardens. The trees and gray roofs and the
faces of the houses were staringly bright. They were absolutely stiff,
nothing was moving, there were no shadows. (Richardson 1979: 105)
In this excerpt the aesthetic arrangement is a landscape. The trees, the gay
roofs, and the houses are portrayed on a dark surface: against its dark background
the tops of heavy masses of cloud were standing up just above the roof-line of the
houses beyond the neighbouring gardens. The static effect (They were absoulutely
stiff, nothing was moving) gives the narrator the status of a painter. Moreover, the
image corresponds to the narrators contemplation. It is a double of Miriams look in
the mirror. This image of a landscape created through the device of aesthetic
arrangement points to Miriams new perception of herself. The narrator uses
pictorial vocabulary which refers to characterisation. The gay roofs and the bright
faces of the houses, can be read as metonymic allusions to the new face Miriam
sees in the mirror.
At the beginning of her journey, while Harriett is doing her hair, Miriam
clearly states that she doesnt like what she sees in the mirror. Away from home, her
new mirror, lower and twice as large as the one in the garret, larger than the one she
had shared with Harriett, renders a reflection that pleases her: How jolly I look,
she thought, jolly and big somehow. Mother would like me this morning [] I look
jolly. She looked gravely into her eyes. Theres something about my expression.
Her face grew wistful. It isnt vain to like it. Its something. It isnt me. It is
something I am, somehow. Oh, do stay, she said, do be like that always.
(Richardson 1979: 151).
I will move on to the tableau vivant, an intentional textual reproduction of a
famous painting or a famous historical scene (Louvel 2002: 41), where the narrator
reproduces a painting, at this point unknown to the reader and even to the
protagonist. On the other hand, the narrator is familiar with it and will soon reveal
the original behind this tableau vivant.
Miriam is having dinner with the students, Faulein Pfaff, and the new
housekeeper. There is textual enframing, (a new paragraph opens up), a focalizer,
and play of light as well: Miriam met eye after eye- how beautiful they all were,
looking out from faces and meeting hers- and her eyes came back unembarrassed to
592
her cup, her solid butter-brot and the sunlit angle of the garden wall and the bit of
tree just over Fraulein Pfaffs shoulder. (Richardson 1979: 140). The description of
the housekeeper, her hair, her face, her clothes and the position of her body is
meticulous, the details paint, the colours are vivid, and the narrator indicates that this
image corresponds to something that Miriam had already seen:
Mademoiselle was almost invisible in her corner near the door; the
new housekeeper was sitting at her side very upright and close to the
table. [] The way light shone on the housekeepers hair, bright brown
and plastered flatly down on either side of her bright-white-crimson face,
and the curves of her chocolate and white striped cotton bodice, reminded
her sharply of something she had seen once, something that charmed her
something in the way she sat, standing out against the others
(Richardson 1979: 140)
After the musical evening, the new housekeeper walks in with a snack. The
girls start talking about her but they are silenced by Fraulein Pfaff and sent to bed.
The next paragraph opens to Miriam in bed not being able to fall asleep. Suddenly,
she remembers seeing the painting of a woman at The Academy that resembled the
housekeeper:
The Academy a picture in very bright colours a woman a
woman sitting by the roadside with a shawl round her shoulders and a red
cheeks and bright green country behind her people moving about on
the shiny floor, someone just behind saying, that is plein-air, these are the
plein-artistes- the woman in the picture was like the housekeeper .
(Richardson 1979: 145)
The protagonist and the reader become aware of the painting even though the
title and the artist are not provided. The reader can guess whether Miriam knows it,
and can try to find out which pleine-artiste she is referring to, and whether the
painting was a part of an exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts, London.
However, it is a painting of a woman; one of the many pictorial representations of
women Miriam is trying to compare with. The woman in the paining is like Miriam,
on the road. Miriam is away from home as well; she has set off on pilgrimage, in
search for her gender identity.
I shall proceed with one ekphrasis whose presence indicates high
pictorialization of the text (Louvel 2002: 42) but it is also connected to Miriams
gender identity. Roland Barthes defines the ekphrasis as a description of an artwork
in a literary text with a clear reference to the artwork in question. It represents a
representation; it opens up a path for the transition from the visible to the readable; it
points out the distance between theory and the reflexivity; it is the non-natural sign
of a non-natural sign that imitates a natural object (Louvel 2002: 42). Its role in the
text can be interpreted differently. It can represent the discourse of the other
593
(Hamon, 1994: 36). It can also embody a self-contained passage(Barhes, 1982:
84), a luminous passage existing only for its own sake. The ekphrasis influences the
text in several ways. It can slow down the tempo of the text to various degrees. It
can create a dreamlike, contemplative effect. It can also create the impression of a
memory brought to life again. In this excerpt, the ekphrasis appears as a vision.
In the previous paragraph, Miriam considers the possibility of staying with the
Bergmanns after the end of term. She imagines what it would be like to be married
to Emma Bergmanns brother and in general, what it would be like to have a
German husband. She concludes that adopting a German manner is not for her, that
all German men have offended her with their attitude towards women. The next
paragraph opens with Miriam in bed running a fever and having visions of
illustrations she has seen in various books back in England:
She turned about in bed; her head was growing fevered.
She conjured up a vision of the back of the books in the bookcase in
the dining room at home. Iliad and Odyssey people going over the
sea in boats and someone going over the sea in boats and someone doing
embroidery that little picture of Hector and Andromache in the corner
of the page he in armour she, in a trailing dress, holding up her
baby. Both, silly She wished she had read more carefully. She could not
remember anything in Leckey or Darwin that would tell her what to do
Hudibras the Atomic Theory Ballads and Poems, D.G. Rossetti .
Kingslake Crimea Palgraves Arabia Crimea The Crimea
Florence Nightingale; a picture somewhere; a refined face, with cap and
strings She must have smiled. (Richardson 1979: 168)
At the beginning, the narrator gives a short description of a pictorial
representation of Hector and Andromache, the famous scene of their parting before
Hector goes to war. Andromache is considered to symbolyse a loyal and devoted
mother and wife. Hector on the other hand, is a symbol of a strong, brave man and a
reliable husband. In the previous paragraph, Miriam describes Emmas brother as
big and tall, with a great, strong solid voice with strong kind arms and shoulders,
strong and sure about everything (Richardson 1979: 168), a devoted and reliable
husband like Hector. Imagining their life together she guesses that by his side, she
wouldnt have to worry about anything, she would be protected and secure. She
would become a real woman, a happy woman, a devoted wife (like Andromache).
Still, she admits to herself that it would be fake: Never. She could not pretend long
enough. (Richardson 1979: 168). Even though she seems to have made up her
mind, she wishes she knew what to do. This narrative image of Hector and
Andromache points at her anguish and hesitation, and at her quest for feminine
identity. Subsequently, a description of a picture of Florence Nightingale follows
(Florence Nightingale; a picture somewhere; a refined face, with cap and strings
She must have smiled.) an independent, strong-willed, modern woman who
devoted her life to a cause. Miriam, imagining her students as ordinary wives busy
594
with ordinary things, contemplates the role one should have in life, the importance
of life [one should try] improving the worldleaving it better than you found it
[] making things better, reforming being a reformer (Richardson 1979: 95),
says Miriam to herself.
Her quest for feminine identity continues beyond these two short ekphrasis.
Fraulein Pfaff, the school mistress is another woman she tries to identify with. In
this excerpt, the description of Fraulein Pfaff resembles a painting. Fraulein is
standing against the window which provides the frame for the narrative image
reminding Miriam, the focalizer, of the illustrations of heroines in the Girls Own
Paper, a womans magazine mainly giving advice on style and career:
When breakfast was over and the girls were clearing the table,
Fraulein went to one of the great windows and stood for a moment with
her hands on the hasp of the innermost of the double frames. [] Miriam,
standing in the corner near the companion window, wandering what she
was supposed to do and watching the girls with an air as nearly as she
could manage- of indulgent condescension saw, without turning, the
figure at the window gracefully tall, with a curious dignified pannier
like effect about the skirt that swept from that small tightly fitting pointed
bodice reminding her of illustrations of heroines of serials in old numbers
of Girls Own Paper. The dress was of dark blue velvet- very much
rubbed and faded. Miriam liked the effect, liked something about the clear
profile, the sallow, hollow cheeks, the same heavy bonyness that Anna the
servant had, but finer and redeemed by the wide eye that was so strange.
She glanced fearfully, at its unconsciousness, and tried to find words for
the quick youthfulness of those steady eyes. (Richardson 1979: 52)
Oscar Wilde notes: Life imitates art (Radford 1991: 75). Miriam copies not
from an original but from a copy, from an illustration, from art. Miriam, in search
for identity, tries to create her own image. She identifies herself with many women
looking for her double, searching for a reflection in the mirror that would be
acceptable, satisfying, and her own. The pictorial aspect of the novel embodies this
quest. Jean Radford has discussed the protagonists difficulty in making a distinction
between original femininity and imitation noting that these difficulties in drawing
the line between genuine womanliness and the masquerade are staged in a series
of scenes involving representations of women in literature, paintings and
photographs, opera and theatre (Radford, 1991: 75). The presence of the pictorial
indicates the presence of the other, the hidden feminine identity that is yet to be
discovered.
Miriams thoughts ramble on as she is lying in bed with a fever:
Darwin had come since then. There were people distinguished
minds, who thought Darwin was true. No God. No Creation. The struggle
for existence. Fighting . Fighting . Fighting.Everybody groping
595
and fighting . Fraulein . Some said it was true . Some not. They
could not both be right. It was probably true only old-fashioned people
thought it was not. It was true. Just that monkeys fighting. But who
began it? Who made Fraulein? Tough leathery monkey . (Richardson
1979: 170)
At first, the monkey may seem to be mentioned only in relation to Darwins
Theory of Evolution. However, the monkey is very much connected to
iconotextuality. Miriams feverish state is due to the fact that she is at a crossroad.
Fraulein Pfaff gives her a chance to stay in her school for another term provided she
loosens up in order to be a good teacher: You have too much of chill and formality.
It makes a stiffness that I am willing to believe you do not intend [] If you should
fail to become more genial, more simple and natural as to your bearing, you will
neither make yourself understood nor will you be loved by your pupils. [] The
teacher shall be sunshine, human sunshine, encouraging all effort and all lovely
things in the personality of the pupil. (Richardson 1979: 160). That night, the same
night that ends in Miriams feverish state, Miriam wakes up and leads an imaginary
conversation with her sister Eve and explains why she couldnt stay in the school
and teach. She cannot pretend and be someone she isnt, smile and grimace like
everyone else: Fraulein talked about manner, she simply wanted me to grimace,
simply. You know- be like other people. (Richardson 1979: 165). She cannot
pretend to be something she isnt; she cannot fake her identity in order to fit in.
The monkey in iconotextual terms is a substitute for the pictorial, along with
the mirror, water, glasses, various reflective surfaces and optical devices, maps,
screens, and photographs. Indeed, the monkey and the mirror (which also occupies a
crucial place in the novel) are metaphors of the painter and artistic creation as well.
The monkey symbolises the artist as an imitator (Pommier 1998: 146). Miriam in
search of genuine womanliness (Radford 1991: 75) realises that she cannot identify
herself with Fraulein Pfaff (or with anyone else for that matter). Who made
Fraulein?, [asks Miriam. Frauleins femininity is the result of an imitation.] Tough
leathery monkey, [but Miriam is] something new a different kind of world
(Richardson 1979: 260) [and an imitation does not meet her needs]. She cannot
stay in the school, become a governess, and be jolly and charming [and] idiotic.
(Richardson 1979: 166). Miriam fears the possibility of becoming like Fraulein: a
lonely, old teacher, worried and awaiting cancer. (Richardson 1979: 172). She can
neither devote her life to a German husband nor stay alone and devote her life to her
students. She leaves the school and continues her pilgrimage in quest of her true self,
discovering in Germany what she does not want to be, discovering the uncanniness
of nature and music, and the happiness they offer, her national identity, and freedom
as her only choice: She was English and free. She had nothing to do with this
German school. (Richardson 1979: 180).
596
The substitutes for the pictorial play an important part in the saturation of a text
with the pictorial, hence they cannot be omitted. There are many examples of them
throughout Pilgrimage but one of the most revealing connected to the theme of
feminine identity is the mirror. The substitutes for the pictorial are symbols. They
are considered as indications of a presence. They provide hybrid examples of iconic
signs (Louvel 2002: 120). The mirror, this device of the iconotext, according to
Liliane Louvel, belongs to the diegetic universe and it is closely connected to the
movement of the subject (Louvel 2002: 44). Furthermore, the mirror both represents
and reveals the present giving out an image, a reflection of the self that the others
see. In the narrative process, the mirror reinforces the power of the visual. It creates
a triangular system consisting of the subject, the painting, and the mirror (Louvel
2002: 58).
In Pointed Roofs, the mirror is a recurrent image. At the very beginning of the
novel it helps us discover Miriams attitude towards herself, introduces the central
theme of gender identity, and contributes to the he pictorial quality of the novel. In
the following scene, Miriam is about to leave for Germany. She is with her sister
Harriett in their room. Miriam observes her sister as she does her hair in front of the
mirror and compares their clothes. Harriett comments on Miriams hair and in her
answer we can see that she perceives herself as plain. Her sister disagrees and
Miriam is more than surprised to hear that:
Miriams amazement silenced Harriett. She stood back from the
mirror. She could not look into until Harriett had gone. The phrases she
had just heard rang in her head without meaning. But she knew she would
remember all of them. She went on doing her hair with downcast eyes.
[] Im pretty, murmured Miriam, planting herself in front of the
dressing table. Im pretty-they like me-they like me. Why didnt I know?
She did not look in the mirror. They all like me, me. (Richardson 1979:
23-24)
This excerpt shows Miriams fear of the mirror, of the reflection it projects.
She is practically rejoicing at the discovery that her family thinks she is pretty. Still,
she does not dare to face the woman in the mirror. She kept away from the mirror
and did her hair not looking at her reflection in it. It is as if she refused to
acknowledge her body and face as her own; as if she perceived herself from both the
inside and from the outside, not being able to accept her looks and still not fully
aware of her own self as if she thought she exceeded what the mirror reflects.
Throughout her pilgrimage, not only does she try to find her feminine identity,
but she also has to accept her looks. Being beautiful, being perceived as beautiful is
an important stage in the process of defining ones womanliness. Dana Self argues
in her article The Spectacle of Beauty that one of the aspects of beauty is its link
with the body: its emersion from the body or our ideas about the body- from the
Greek idea of man as the measure of all things, to the male gaze directed at the body
of woman, which has been loaded with ideas about what constitutes beauty,
597
decency, and/or normalcy. Thus beauty has become burdened with the weight of
religious, gender, sexual, cultural, and social politics, making its appreciation a
tricky endeavour (Self, 1996). Miriam finds it difficult to appreciate her own
beauty. She needs to be reassured, she needs to accept the reflection of herself in the
mirror but also discover the hidden meaning behind the visible. Her pilgrimage
unifies her quests for religious, cultural, national, gender and sexual identity as well
as her quest for a social role. The search for womanliness includes all these aspects
along with the physical beauty and Miriam tries to learn how to embrace herself in
her unity. The mirror, a barrier between her inner and outer self, points at her effort
to do so. The following pictorial manifestation shows the two dimensions of
Miriams search for genuine womanliness and the mirrors role as a substitute for
the pictorial in the search for feminine identity.
In the middle of the day, without notice, the girls in the school were ordered to
wash their hair. Miriam goes to the basement unwillingly and has her hair washed
by Frau Krause. Then, she joins the other girls in the coffee mill, again, at Fraulein
Pfaffs order. Not having time to dry and do her hair properly, dissatisfied with the
way she looks, Miriam starts observing Gertrudes, Claras, Minas, Judys, the two
Martins, Berthas, Emmas, and Jimmies hair. They all, so it seems to her, have
done a better job than her.
They were sitting round the table in easy attitudes and had the effect of
holding a council (Richardson 1979: 62). The reason for the gathering was the new
rule in the boarding school; they all must wear their hair in a classic knot
[Miriam tries to picture it] Miriam tried to make a picture of a classic knot in her
mind. (Richardson 1979: 63). What she sees is rendered in a short pictorial
representation of a distant memory:
Miriams mind groped classic Greece and Rome- Greek knot
Grecian key a Grecian key pattern on the dresses for the sixth form
tableau- reading Ruskin the strip of glass all along the window space
on the floor in the large room edged with mosses and grass the mirror
of Venus . [] Only the eldest pretty girls all on their hands and
knees looking into the mirror.
(Richardson 1979: 63-64).
The device used in this excerpt cannot be easily classified. Miriam, trying to
picture a classic knot in her mind, probably remembers a tableau vivant or a living
image preformed by the eldest pretty girls from the Sixth Form School. This kind
of live performances of paintings were common in English schools in the Victorian
era. Miriam refers to John Ruskin several times throughout Pointed Roofs. Miriam
went to a school where the teachers had either met Ruskin or were considered his
disciples, and Miriam was familiar with his work. In Ruskins Pre-Raphaelitism
(1851), among the other painters, we find Sir Edward Burne-Jones (1833-1898) - a
pre-Raphaelite painter, Ruskins protg and a close friend. I believe that the
enlivened painting or the effet tableau is The Mirror of Venus by Sir Edward Burne-
Jones (1877), even though the reference to the painting is not written in capital
598
letters as a title of a painting should be. Nonetheless, the description completely
coincides with the painting itself. Therefore, I would say that this pictorial
manifestation is a short ekphrasis of an effet tableau that serves to raise the question
of interior and exterior selfhood, of womans identity, and the abundance of images
that define femininity (Nead 1992: 11) and the mirror as a constraint in the process
of unifying the womans reflection, her physical beauty as well as her inner-self.
Edward Burne-Jones The Mirror of Venus was first exhibited in 1877 at the
Grosvenor Gallery. Seven years later, the work was displayed again along with other
of E.B. Jones paintings at Sir Coutts Lindseys exhibition and drew a significant
critical attention, so it is quite possible to be the choice for the tableau vivant
performed at the school. The painting shows a woman referred to as Venus with her
nine maids. Venus is standing while the other girls are either on their knees or
bending in front of a pond edged with grass. Without any reference to any specific
work of art, the mirror of Venus necessarily suggests the theme of reflection. In
Roman mythology, Venus is the goddess of love and beauty. She is also an allegory
of self-centered beauty. However, Venus transcends the mythological framework
and represents beauty itself. Her image in the mirror points at the effect that her
beauty causes; it suggests the act of being observed and self-observance. In Edward
Burne-Jones paintings, Venus is a common subject matter. She is represented as a
meditative, introspective woman but she is sexual and erotic as well. Burne-Joness
descriptions of Venus embody a compromise between Venus, the Goddess of love
and beauty, vegetation and nature, and the pre-Raphaelite representations of erotic
but still real women. In this painting, the position of the girls puts Venus in the
focus. The reflection of her face cannot be seen in the water as opposed to the
reflections of the other girls who seem very much engaged in looking at their faces
in the pool. Venus seems uninterested, as if she were looking beyond the visible.
Thus the accent is put on Venus introspective nature and she is turned into a
paradigm of a meditative, self-observing, distant, and sexual woman. Her long,
bright red hair, brighter than the other girls, and her tight-fitting bright blue dress,
different from the other dresses, speak about her passion and sexuality but also put
forward her individuality. In contrast to her body is her pensive face. The somber
landscape in the background additionally emphasizes Venus statuesque figure, her
strayed look, and her singularity. The absence of her reflection in the lake can
indicate that she is symbolically lost; she may not be unable to see or find her self.
She also may not be interested in looking at her physical reflection regardless of her
obvious beauty. Venus is looking away from the pond, within herself and at the girls
that surround her as if searching for answers. Kate Flint in her article on Edward
Burne- Joness The Mirror of Venus argues that the similarity of the other girls in
the painting indicates not only lack of individuality but also a superfluous generic
femininity: The multiplication of similarly styled, similarly featured women may
further be read as signifying an excess of generic femininity and a concomitant
erasing of individuality.(Flint 1999: 152). Miriam sees herself as Venus in the
paining: egocentric, analytical, different, and aware of the false femininity that
599
surrounds her. The feminine identity she feels she has to accept, does not suit her.
She tries to find her true face in the mirror and embrace that reflection. In the
excerpt, Miriam analyses how the other girls did their hair. She cannot handle hers.
Her old wool (Richardson 1979: 23) seems different to her compared to the other
girls hair. She constantly fights it and tries to tame it. Her rebellious hair is a
metaphor for her rebellious, non-conformist nature. She is on her way to
independence, complete autonomy, and freedom. She has set on a pilgrimage in
search for authentic femininity always comparing and contrasting attitudes, manners,
style, detecting false womanliness, trying to distinguish between the genuine
womanliness and the masquerade (Radford 1991: 75). Her pilgrimage towards self-
discovery and true feminine identity continues in the subsequent volumes of the
novel along with the magnificent pilgrimage of painting to which it is so closely
intertwined.
References
Bal, M. (1997). Images littraires ou comment lire Proust. Toulouse: PUM.
Barthes, R. (1982). Leffet de rel. In : Littrature et Ralit, Roland Barthes et al.
Paris: Seuil, Points, 71-99.
Cowper, Powys, J. (1965). Dorothy M. Richardson. In Dorothy Richardson. Toits
Pointus. Paris: Mercure de France.
Flint, K. (1999). Edward Burne- Joness The Mirror of Venus: surface and
subjectivity in the art criticism of the 1870s. In: Elizabeth Prettejohn (ed.).
After the Pre-Raphaelites: art and aestheticism in Victorian England.
Manchester: Manchester University Press, 156-166.
Hagstrom, J. (1958). The Sister Arts: The Tradition of Literary Pictorialism and
English Poetry from Dryden to Gray. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Hamon, P. (1994). Imageries et Images au XIX sicle. Paris: Seuil EHESS.
Hawkins-Dady M. (ed.) (1996). Readers Guide to Literature in English. London:
Routledge.
Louvel, L. (2002). Texte/ Image. Images lire, textes voir. Rennes: Presses
Universitaires de Rennes.
Nead, L. (1992). The Female Nude: Art, Obscenity and Sexuality. London and New
York: Routledge.
Pommier, E. (1998). Thories du Portrait. Paris: Gallimard.
Radford, Jean. (1991). Dorothy Richardson. Hemel Hempstead: Harvester
Wheatsheaf.
Richardson, Dorothy. (1979). Pilgrimage Vols.1 & 4. London: Virago.
Ricoeur, P. (2000). Memory and Imagination. Paris: Seuil, Lordre philosophique.
Self, D. (1996). The Spectacle of Beauty. In: Dale Chihuly (ed). Chihuly over
Venice. Seattle: Portland Press. Available at: http://www.chihuly.com/essays-
the-spectacle-of-beauty_detail.aspx. Retrieved on: 29 August 2011.
Watts, C. (1995). Dorothy Richardson. Northcote House Publishers Ltd.
600
Sonja Veselinovi
Novi Sad, Serbia
[email protected]
TWO ANTHOLOGIES OF CONTEMPORARY ENGLISH POETRY IN THE
SERBIAN LANGUAGE
Abstract The aim of this research is to analyze the image of modern English poetry
offered through the selections and translations in two capital anthologies in Serbian:
Antologija savremene engleske poezije (Anthology of Contemporary English
Poetry), edited by Svetozar Brki and Miodrag Pavlovi (Belgrade, 1957; revised
edition in 1975) and Antologija engleske poezije 1945-1990 (Anthology of English
Poetry 1945-1990), edited by Srba Mitrovi (Novi Sad, 1992). The 1960s started a
new era of English-Serbian literary connections, since a generation of newly
established poets developed an interest in the English culture. Significant reception
of modern English poetry began with the first edition of the Anthology of
Contemporary English Poetry. Nevertheless, between this book that marked the
entire enthusiastic period, and the anthology of Srba Mitrovi, when it comes to
individual poetry books, the number of translations of English authors remained
relatively small. Further translations show that these anthologies decisively
designated the reception of modern English poetry in Serbian literature.
Key words: anthology, English poetry, mediation, representative survey,
programmatic anthology, translation
1. Introduction: anthology as an element of literary mediation
As a representative selection within given criteria, anthology has a very
significant role in the mediation process between two literatures. In earlier epochs it
preserved both individual achievements and the authors themselves from oblivion
and ensured their place in the history of literature, even if they were not too famous
or if they wrote only a few books. Likewise, in modern times, anthology is an
important means used to establish, evaluate or subvert the canon of a literature. It is
always important who the anthology speaks to, what kind of reading public it is
meant for. The selection of texts is, to a great extent, based on aesthetic values, but
other cultural values and value systems are inevitably included. As Barbara Korte
(2000: 4) put it, [T]he selection in an anthology is indicative of the anthologists
culturally channeled system of aesthetic, ethical and ideological values, and some
though certainly not all types of anthologies can be explicitly counted among their
cultures institutions of evaluative authority. If evaluation, discrimination and
structuring are basic dispositions of the human brain and an elementary human need,
601
the selectedness of anthologies may also be claimed to serve this need which is
aggravated by an exploded universe of texts marked by diversities, pluralisms and
anti-essentialisms of postmodernity.
As elements of literary mediation and cultural memory, anthologies distribute
and preserve poetry; they also preserve selection principles, so that they show the
change in poetic techniques, topics and poetic taste. Barbara Korte points out that
anthologies also reveal affinity for certain authors, periods or subgenres, or, which is
even more indicative, aversion, resistance towards them. So, for example, in Serbian
anthologies of English poetry, there are no prose poems. If that were a lonely case,
we could see it as the editor's evaluation of English prose poetry. However, prose
poetry is almost not present at all in our foreign poetry anthologies (American,
French, German, Russian...), even though it is well-known that that is a very
influential genre in some literary traditions. All this can suggest that Serbian literary
studies are not aware enough of prose poetry. However, they were already included
by the author of our first modern, most influential and most studied anthology,
Bogdan Popovi, in his Antologija novije srpske lirike (Anthology of Newer Serbian
Lyric Poetry). This problem is a subject of study in itself, but from such an example
it is clear how the anthologists selection excludes an important part of production,
regardless of whether they are unaware of the place and importance of the genre, or
they ignore it consciously.
2. Different types and goals of the anthologies
In Serbian literature, as well as in other environments, anthologies have often
been the subject of harsh criticism and debates. As a rule, the closer the period they
refer to is chronologically, the more questioned the criteria are, since then anthology
shows its function of canon mediation more openly. Anthologies preserve a poem in
cultural memory, so the selection of poems is the subject matter most often criticized
by the poets themselves, who are, then, the most frequent and fierce critics of
anthologies, because they believe that the given selection does not represent their
opus in a nutshell, does not represent its phases or poetic oscillations. However,
when it comes to anthologies of contemporary poetry, as Barbara Korte points out,
they can, according to two key criteria, be representative surveys and can represent
new types of poetry. Representative surveys depict a period, cultural context, school
or movement, and are characterized by generality and representativeness (Korte
2000: 15-17). Among them, the most influential are the ones that include the longest
period, but they do not necessarily have to stabilize canon. Programmatic
anthologies, which discuss the current situation, are largely conditioned by the
relationship with the previous generation, even if they do not point to the key
characteristics of a school or a group of poets they represent. There are many of
those in English anthologies of the 20
th
century, and they were the most influential
and most criticized ones; it can also be said they came as replies to each other.
602
Standard selections such as Oxford or Norton most often offer representative
surveys, while Penguin anthologies are slightly less academic and therefore
characterized by greater freedom. However, when it comes to anthologists such as
Philip Larkin, the presence of the academic environments limitations and deep-
rooted notions cannot be felt, so these divisions are conditional. Representative
anthologies could include the famous The Oxford Book of Modern Verse 1892-1935
by W. B. Yeats, The Oxford Book of 20th Century English Verse by Philip Larkin
(1973), The Oxford Book of Contemporary Verse 1945 1980 by Dennis Joseph
Enright (1980), The Oxford Library of English Poetry by John Wain (1986), as well
as The Penguin Book of Contemporary Verse by Kenneth Allott (first edition 1950),
and The Penguin Book of Contemporary British Poetry (1982) by Blake Morrison
and Andrew Motion. The ones closer to the second type of anthology would be
British Poetry since 1945 (1970) by Edward Lucie-Smith, while true examples of
programmatic anthologies would, for instance, be New Lines by Robert Conquest
(1956), The New Poetry (1962) by Alfred Alvarez, or the slightly differently
conceived The Mersey Sound (1967), which gathered the poems of Liverpool pop-
poets Rodger McGough, Brian Patten and Adrian Henri.
3. Two anthologies of English poetry in the Serbian language
The authors who selected and edited the works of English poets for the Serbian
language anthologies were guided, above all, by the representative selections made
in the original culture; however, due to previous weak reception of English poetry,
they also felt the need to present the English poets ideas as best as they could, or at
least suggest the context of their work. Two key domestic anthologies of English
poetry are Antologija savremene engleske poezije (Anthology of Contemporary
English Poetry), compiled by Svetozar Brki and Miodrag Pavlovi (first edition
1957; extended edition 1975) and Antologija engleske poezije 1945-1990. Britanska
poezija engleskog jezika (Anthology of English Poetry 1945-1990. British Poetry in
the English Language) compiled by Srba Mitrovi (1992). One of the main models
and guides for the Anthology of Contemporary English Poetry was evidently The
Penguin Book of Contemporary Verse by Kenneth Allott. The latters editors,
however, did not specify which English anthologies were relevant to them. On the
other hand, in his afterword to the Anthology of English Poetry 1945-1990, Srba
Mitrovi clearly points out the anthologies he considered important, though this
should not imply that his selection necessarily corresponds to theirs. As he says:
The most important post-war anthologies are certainly New Lines (1956)
and New Lines II (1963) by Conquest, as well as The New Poetry (1962) by
Alvarez. Conquest's anthologies (for which he had also written forewords)
established the poets of The Movement and were a subject of literary
discussions for a long time. Alvarez's anthology is actually a general anthology
603
of Anglophone poets, although it includes only four American authors. The
anthology includes English poets of The Movement, poets of The Group, and
several independent authors. Another important anthology is that of the poets
of The Group, published in 1963 by Edward Lucie-Smith in collaboration with
the poet Philip Hobsbaum. In 1970, the same author published a
comprehensive anthology (British Poetry since 1945), interesting especially for
its classification of poets. (Mitrovi 1992: 263-264)
As these anthologies are mostly programmatic, Mitrovi refers to another
critical overview of English poetry, which he obviously sees as a guideline. The
book in question is Poetry Today. A Critical Guide to British Poetry 1960-1984
(1985) by Anthony Thwaite, a concise overview which attempts to give a deeper, yet
brief insight into the opus of the poets of the period. Mitrovi obviously respected
Thwaite's selection of poets and this can be seen in his selection in the Anthology of
English Poetry 1945-1990. When it comes to later anthologies, he mentions
Larkin's, but places greater importance on two other, as he says, complementary,
anthologies: The Penguin Book of Contemporary British Poetry by Morrison and
Motion and Some Contemporary Poets of Britain and Ireland: An Anthology (1983),
selected and prefaced by the professor, poet, publisher and critic Michael Schmidt.
3.1 Anthology of Contemporary English Poetry by S. Brki and M. Pavlovi
Anthology of Contemporary English Poetry was published in 1957 by the
influential publishing house Nolit. It was compiled by the university professor,
translator and essayist Svetozar Brki and the newly established poet and critic
Miodrag Pavlovi, while the editor of the entire book series was the famous literary
critic and anthologist Zoran Mii. The previous void in the reception of English
poetry largely defines the use-value of this book. The translation of selected poems
by 34 English poets was carried out by eight translators and writers, including the
editors: Isidora Sekuli, Miodrag Pavlovi, Svetozar Brki, Jovan Hristi, Dragoslav
Andri, Milica Mihajlovi, Jugoslav orevi and Luka Semenovi. A handful of
translations were published before, but the majority was made for this book. The
generation gap between the translators, as well as their previous work, provides an
obvious reason for the Anthologys incoherence in terms of currency, language and
style of the translation and the understanding of the given poetic orientations. On the
other hand, the foreword by Svetozar Brki demonstrates his remarkable insight into
modern English poetry and stands as a very useful guide through a previously under-
explored material. The anthology starts with Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889), a
poet who did not live in the 20th century, but whose poems were published to a
remarkably warm reception only in 1918. The Anthology of Contemporary English
Poetrys Editors note states that the anthologys editors considered it important to
give as much space as possible to the poets who, like Hopkins, Yeats, Eliot, Auden,
Dylan Thomas and E. Sitwell, marked the crucial changes in contents, form and
604
technique (Brki-Pavlovi 1957: 89) of the 20
th
-century English poetry. These
names also form the framework of Brki's extensive foreword to the Anthology,
which contains the sections New currents in English poetry reflected in the
language and structure of the poems, W. B. Yeats and his developmental phases,
Ezra Pound: an eclectic and founder of poetry movements, T. S. Eliot:
development of a poetic sensibility, Poets of WW1, Appearance and
significance of G. M. Hopkins, Poets of 1930s, Dylan Thomas a reaction to
the intellectual poetry by the Auden Group, Edith Sitwell and Conclusion.
The foreword to the second edition of the anthology was supplemented by a section
on contemporary poetry, i.e. the poetry that came after 1950.
As Serbian literature had no poetry as linguistically and discursively varied and
layered as the one in this anthology prior to its publication (it would enter Serbian
literature only in that very decade, the 1950s), it is no surprise that the anthologys
main problems concerning the translation and selection are those of linguistic nature.
The poems selected often do not include those that most often represent any given
poet in English or other European selections, which might be said to be due to the
editor's concept, but is obviously caused by linguistic and poetic obstacles. Another
problem is versification, for Serbian poetry simply does not have such a long and
rich metric tradition to easily find solutions within the target versification, so that
they are metametrically marked and that innovations can be seen. That is why some
poets representations are limited by the translator's abilities, which can best be seen
in the selection of Ezra Pounds works. It is simply not representative enough, even
though Brki, in his foreword, shows wide insight into Pounds most important
works, which are not present in the selection. Eliot's The Waste Land is also absent
from this selection; the editors would compensate for that in the second edition. Due
to the scope of the previous overlook, Svetozar Brki is aware of the fact that the
introduction into the domestic literary scene of the poetically most diverse period of
both English and world literature has to be gradual. It was only in the first half of the
20th century that the English Romantics were translated into Serbian, so it is safe to
say that English poetry did not significantly impact Serbian avant-garde poetry.
There was a visible gap between the two poetic nations, so the editors and translators
had to create opportunities for a better understanding of modern English authors and
their closer connection with the domestic audience. As Brki puts it:
In the last fifty years poetry in England has included more poetic
generations and shown more trends and sudden changes than it had in any
previous period of the same length. Generations have shifted faster than ever
before due to the great changes that affected the entire society; the poets have
seen the world in different ways and expressed different experiences and
world-views. (Brki-Pavlovi 1957: 7)
The two editions of the Anthology of Contemporary English Poetry clearly
outline the paths of reception and influence of Pound and Eliot in Serbian poetry. In
the second edition, Anthology of Contemporary English Poetry 1900-1973 (1975),
605
there are more translators, who had, in the meantime, turned towards Anglo-
American literatures (David Albahari, Milovan Danojli, Ivan V. Lali, Raa
Livada, Mirko Magaraevi, Aleksandar Nejgebauer). They would all translate a lot
of Anglophone works in the periods to come and increase the popularity of English
and American poetry and prose with the domestic audiences. Apart from smaller
changes in the existing anthology corpus, the second edition included the poets of
The Movement (Kingsley Amis, Philip Larkin, Donald Davie, D. J. Enright, John
Wain, Elizabeth Jennings, Thom Gunn) and The Group (Philip Hobsbaum, Peter
Porter, George Macbeth), as well as Ted Hughes and Geoffrey Hill. When it comes
to the poets of The Movement, Elisabeth Jennings and Thom Gunn were allotted the
largest number of poems, Larkin was represented very modestly, and the majority of
the poems were translated by Milovan Danojli, mostly in a very similar tone. Ted
Hughes and Geoffrey Hill were accorded a larger number of poems and represented
as leading figures of contemporary English poetry. Poems by Geoffrey Hill, the
penultimate poet in Brki and Pavlovi, conclude Kenneth Allott's anthology, so it is
obvious that the latter anthology was still a useful guide for our editors; though there
are evident differences in the approach, analysis and informedness between the
English and Serbian anthologists, given their different starting positions and points
of view. In the appendix to the previous editions preface, entitled English poetry
from 1950 to 1973, Brki explains why 1973 could be a milestone and quotes a
number of contemporary studies which summarize modern English poetry and
discuss the relationship between contemporary poets and critics and the great literary
figures such as Yeats, Eliot, Auden or Thomas.
3.2 Anthology of English Poetry 1945-1990 by Srba Mitrovi
In 1992 Srba Mitrovi (1931-2007) published his Anthology of English Poetry
1945-1990 (British Poetry in the English language) for the Novi Sad-based
publishing house Svetovi. The book gathered 17 translators (David Albahari,
Svetozar Brki, Zoran Bundalo, Milovan Danojli, Milan orevi, Ljiljana uri,
Jovan Hristi, Vojislav Karanovi, Milo Komadina, Ivan V. Lali, Raa Livada,
Milan Milii, Srba Mitrovi, Tomislav Mii, Miodrag Pavlovi, Duan Puvai,
Isidora Sekuli), and included 57 poets, from Arthur Waley to Michael Hofman.
This anthology reflects the diversity of creative trends in post-war England, and
particularly shows how new generations created poetry concurrently with the pre-
war poets who underwent poetic transformations. Srba Mitrovi points this out in his
concise, but informative and useful afterword, Poetry in Great Britain 1945-1990,
supported by an overview of important references and anthologies. A certain
conservatism, especially regarding linguistic and formal choices, makes the gap
between the old and the new a minor one, as there is no radical rejection of the
previous tradition or creative approach, not even on the declarative level of a
manifest. Srba Mitrovi used the existing translations whenever possible, but still
translated a significant percentage of the poems (slightly less than eighty percent)
606
himself. This clearly makes for a balanced translation, as far as the linguistic and
creative abilities of the translator are concerned, but is, doubtlessly, a tremendous
challenge for the translator, as his creation might become too balanced, i.e. the
poetic styles and expressions in question might become too similar. When it comes
to the years framing the selection, the editor writes:
This selection is marked 1945-1990. The first year gravitates towards the
distinguished older poets who had to be given an honorable place, as they often
finally shaped their opus only in the post-war years. The other year gathers the
younger authors, and I might not have gone too deep there, being wary of too
private a selection. This is still a translated anthology, only a sideways look, so
I might have deprived the readers of a few important future names by trying not
to be arbitrary. Maybe the non-existing critique of translated literature will say
something about the translations themselves? The contents show that there
were few available translations of modern poetry, which is why I had to do the
biggest part of the job myself. The anthology comes after the Anthology of
Contemporary English Poetry by Svetozar Brki and Miodrag Pavlovi, which
includes the poetry between 1900 and 1973. That edition by Nolit is still a
precise and reliable guide into the twentieth-century English poetry. I was less
strict in my selection, for in poetry, at least, errors like these, while not
deserving an excuse, might at least provide enjoyment. (Mitrovi 1992: 277)
The Anthology opens with the poet, translator and orientalist Arthur Waley
(1889-1966); he is, however, represented with only one poem, so that the beginning
is truly marked by Robert Graves (1895-1985), another intellectual and translator.
Mitrovi aims mostly to represent any given poet with a larger number of poems, so
as to provide better insight into their poetics or style, seeing how his anthology
covers contemporary poetry and there still isnt enough distance for proper poetic
evaluation. In that sense, being included in the anthology is an act of recognition in
its own right; the poets included, therefore, are doubtlessly significant, while those
allotted more space are really prominent. Unlike many other anthologies, this one
includes quite a few women poets, which also announces the excellent contemporary
female scene in England (Stevie Smith, Patricia Beer, Elizabeth Jennings, Sylvia
Plath, Jenny Joseph, Anne Stevenson, Penelope Shuttle).
The poets accorded the greatest number of poems reflect the poetic curve of
contemporary English poetry: R. Graves, W. H. Auden, R. S. Thomas, D. Thomas,
P. Larkin, E. Jennings, P. Porter, T. Hughes, A. Mitchell, G. Hill, S. Heaney, D.
Dunn, and P. Muldoon. The poets present in Brki-Pavlovi are here often
represented in a completely different light, in accordance with their later, dominant
poetic transformations. Mitrovi insists on multiplicity of poetic voices throughout
his anthology and right to its very end, despite entire generations of poets who
couldnt escape the influence of great poetic figures and ended up simplifying many
of the poetic guidelines bequeathed to them by those figures. The anthologist did not
overlook the fact that he was compiling a selection of poetry of an island country
607
whose poetic movements are very often distant and diachronic in relation to poetry
of continental Europe, and whose gaze is often directed towards tradition and
continuity. As he concludes:
It must be pointed out that a poetry stemming from a long, immense
tradition, such as British, cannot break away from that tradition (which was
Modernisms ide fixe). It often happens that young poets distance themselves
from their immediate predecessors poetry and look for models in recent or
remote past. [...] Postmodern poetry, as critics sometimes call this new poetry,
whose features are recognized in the previous generation (Larkin and others)
and even in Dylan Thomas, is characterized by the stylistic qualities described
differently by different authors. Most often, there is said to be a certain
inclination towards narration, a collage-like narrative technique, disparity of
adjacent passages, interruptions that ignore a poems integrity; because the
postmodern poet often enters more grandiose projects, sometimes creating a
story parallel to an already familiar one. In that sense, Hills Mercian Hymns
are paradigmatic in relation to, for example, Audens Horae canonicae. [...]
Post-war British poetry has two openings, one into the past that gives it its real
meaning and one into the future that can give it its real value. (Mitrovi 1992:
273-274)
While compiling his anthology, Mitrovi obviously consulted a number of
critical works and essays which discuss the history of English poetry, as well as
previous reception of English poetry and critical attitudes of its prominent authors,
such as T. S. Eliot. The above quote from his afterword is based on Hristis
excellent interpretations of Eliot's critical principles and understanding of tradition
and classics, explained in his foreword to Eliots selected essays (Izabrani tekstovi).
Mitrovi always makes the work of his predecessors, Brki and Pavlovi, his
starting point, and he takes into consideration the domestic audiences education and
the reception of English poetry to date. His selection points to the existential, moral,
ideological and linguistic themes common to all modern poets, but it also indicates
the changes in an authors creative context their status in a society, ways of
communicating with their readers/audience, evaluating and marketing systems.
4. Conclusion
The two anthologies discussed essentially determine the reception of the
twentieth-century English poetry in Serbian literature. They gathered the translators
who went on to have a key role in the representation of certain poets and the
domestic readers familiarization with them. They also gathered the poets whose
works correspond to the creative experience, thoughts and actions of the great
English poets. It is important to point out that the poets such are Pavlovi, Hristi,
Lali and Livada are among the most important contemporary Serbian poets and that
608
what distinguishes them the most is precisely their poetic awareness, erudition and
reevaluation of tradition (both as an idea and as experience), which is an important
legacy of modern English literature. In their forewords and afterwords, the editors of
these two anthologies offer a context within which given works of poetry can be
interpreted, and they try to find a balance in their approach somewhere between
the concept of anthology in the source language and original environment and the
concept of anthology in the target culture. Considering the responsibility that is at
stake, the responsibility of selecting and presenting a less known corpus of literature,
it can be said that, when it comes to selection criteria, these two anthologies are
significantly more open than many anthologies of domestic poetry. For that very
reason they survive as important signposts in the communication between Serbian
and English literatures.
References
Allott, K. (ed.) (1950). The Penguin Book of Contemporary Verse. London: Penguin
Books.
Alvarez, A. (ed.) (1962). The New Poetry. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books.
Brki, S. and Pavlovi, M. (eds.) (1957). Antologija savremene engleske poezije
(1900-1950). Belgrade: Nolit.
Brki, S. and Pavlovi, M. (eds.) (1975). Antologija savremene engleske poezije
(1900-1973). Belgrade: Nolit.
Conquest, R. (ed.) (1956). New Lines. London: Macmillan.
Eliot, T. S. (1963). T. S. Eliot: Izabrani tekstovi, translation: Milica Mihajlovi,
Belgrade: Prosveta.
Enright, D. J. (ed.) (1980). The Oxford Book of Contemporary Verse 1945 1980.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Henry, A, McGough, R. And Patten, B. (1967). The Mersey Sound. Harmondsworth:
Penguin Books.
Hristi, J. (1963). T. S. Eliot: Tradicija i individualni talenat. In: T. S. Eliot:
Izabrani tekstovi. Belgrade: Prosveta, 7-30.
Korte, B. (2000). Flowers for Picking. Anthologies of Poetry in (British) Literary
and Cultural Studies. In: B. Korte, R. Schneider and S. Lethbridge (eds.).
Anthologies of British Poetry. Critical Perspectives from Literary and Cultural
Studies. Amsterdam-Atlanta: Editions Rodopi b. V, 1-32.
Larkin, P. (ed.) (1973). The Oxford Book of 20th Century English Verse. Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Lucie-Smith, E. (ed.) (1970). British Poetry since 1945. Penguin Books.
Mitrovi, S. (ed.) (1992). Antologija engleske poezije 1945-1990. Britanska poezija
engleskog jezika. Novi Sad: Svetovi.
Morrison, B. and Motion, A. (eds.) (1982). The Penguin Book of Contemporary
British Poetry. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books.
609
Schmidt, M. (ed.) (1983). Some Contemporary Poets of Britain and Ireland: An
Anthology. Manchester: Carcanet Press.
Thwaite, A. (1985). Poetry Today. A Critical Guide to British Poetry 1960-1984.
London, New York: Longman.
Wain, J. (ed.) (1986). The Oxford Library of English Poetry. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Yeats, W. B. (ed.) (1935). The Oxford Book of Modern Verse 1892-1935. Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
610
CONTENTS
FOREWORD .............................................................................................................. 5
PART ONE: LANGUAGE
Ranko Bugarski
FROM VERBAL PLAY TO LINGUISTICS: A PERSONAL MEMOIR ................. 9
Nataa Bikicki / Jelena Jerkovi
THE PERCEPTION OF TELICITY IN TRANSPARENT PHRASAL VERBS ..... 18
Sneana Bilbija
THE PRAGMATIC ROLE OF VAGUE MEANINGS IN THE EU
DISCOURSE ............................................................................................................ 31
Maja Bjelica
PHONOLOGICAL AND MORPHOLOGICAL ADAPTATION OF ENGLISH
WORDS IN THE TV SHOW IVOT U TRENDU ................................................. 39
Tomislav Bukatarevi
PASSIVE AND AKTIONSART IN ENGLISH ....................................................... 53
Jovana Dimitrijevi Savi / Danica Jerotijevi
FACTORS INFLUENCING SERBIAN LEARNERS PRODUCTION
ACCURACY OF ENGLISH INTERDENTAL FRICATIVES ............................... 63
Jasmina orevi
WEB 2.0 TOOLS IN THE ELT CLASSROOM HOT POTATOES AND
DVOLVER ............................................................................................................... 71
Biljana ori Francuski
WHATS IN A NAME? Adopting Ancient Indian Practices in 21st
Century Cross-Cultural Translation Studies ............................................................. 84
611
Tatjana urovi
ENGLISHISATION OF THE EUROPEAN UNION VIEWED THROUGH
METAPHORICAL LENSES .................................................................................... 97
Borislava Erakovi
THE ROLE OF EXTRATEXTUAL FACTORS IN THE ACQUISITION OF
TRANSLATION COMPETENCE ......................................................................... 112
Sonja Filipovi-Kovaevi
NAMES OF ADVERTIZED PRODUCTS AS MINI ADVERTISEMENTS:
A COGNITIVE LINGUISTIC VIEW .................................................................... 124
Tatjana Gluac
TEAMING UP TO OVERCOME 21ST CENTURY CLASSROOM
CHALLENGES ...................................................................................................... 139
Ana Halas
THE TREATMENT OF POLYSEMOUS LEXEMES IN
ENGLISH-SERBIAN DICTIONARIES ................................................................ 151
Sabina Halupka-Reetar
CLEFTS, PSEUDO-CLEFTS AND REVERSE PSEUDO-CLEFTS
AS MAJOR CONSTRUCTIONS FOR EXPRESSING
INFORMATION STRUCTURE IN ENGLISH ..................................................... 165
Ana Ivandeki
SIMILES IN ENGLISH: SEMANTIC AND PRAGMATIC ASPECTS ............... 179
Tamara Jevri
THE STUDY OF THE PROBLEM OF ABSOLUTE SYNONYMS
IN RELATION TO THEIR COLLOCATIONAL BEHAVIOUR ......................... 193
Aleksandar Kavgi / Olga Pani Kavgi
COMPUTER-RELATED TERMINOLOGY IN SERBIAN: A
DIACHRONIC ANALYSIS OF BORROWING TRENDS,
TRANSLATION AND ADAPTATION STRATEGIES ....................................... 200
Sanja KrimerGaborovi
SEMANTICS AND PRAGMATICS OF ENGLISH AND SERBIAN
COLOUR NAMING LEXEMES ........................................................................... 215
612
Mihaela Lazovi
THE STRUCTURE AND SEMANTICS OF ACCOMPLISHMENTS
IN ENGLISH AND ROMANIAN .......................................................................... 221
Maja Markovi
ACQUIRING SECOND LANGUAGE PROSODY: FUNDAMENTAL
FREQUENCY......................................................................................................... 238
Davor Menzildi
AN ERROR ANALYSIS OF SERBIAN ENGLISH MAJORS WRITTEN
PRODUCTIONS ..................................................................................................... 250
Mira Mili
HINDSIGHT ANALYSIS OF A BILINGUAL DICTIONARY OF
STANDARDISED SPORTS TERMS .................................................................... 260
Predrag Novakov
LINGUISTIC AND EXTRALINGUISTIC COMPONENT
IN TRANSLATION: ENGLISHSERBIAN EXAMPLES ................................... 270
Melisa Okii
FUNCTION OF NON-HEADS IN ENGLISH ADJECTIVAL
COMPOUNDS WITH DEVERBATIVE HEAD WORDS .................................... 278
Merima Osmankadi
NEGATION AS A MEANS OF CONTRASTING OR CHALLENGING
ELEMENTS OF INTERTEXTUAL CONTEXT ................................................... 287
Biljana Radi-Bojani
ANIMAL METAPHORS IN EFL VOCABULARY ACQUISITION ................... 305
Nadeda Silaki
CLIMBING THE CORPORATE LADDER OR BEING STUCK ON THE
MOMMY TRACK CAREER METAPHORS IN ENGLISH ............................. 313
Duan Stamenkovi
VERBS AND PROTOTYPE THEORY: STATE OF THE ART AND
POSSIBILITIES ..................................................................................................... 326
Violeta Stojii
CONTRASTIVE VIEW OF SERBIAN AND ENGLISH COLLOCATIONS ...... 337
613
Jagoda Topalov
EFFECTS OF STRATEGIC READING INSTRUCTION ON EFL
STUDENTS READING PERFORMANCE ......................................................... 345
Dragana Vukovi Vojnovi / Marija Niin
'WOULD YOU CARE FOR A DRINK?' POLITE QUESTIONS AND
REQUESTS IN THE CROSS-CULTURAL CONTEXT OF TOURISM
INDUSTRY ............................................................................................................ 355
Isidora Wattles
EFFECTIVE COURSE RELATED ASSESSMENT TECHNIQUES ................... 363
PART TWO: LITERATURE
Svetozar Koljevi
THE INTERNATIONAL THEME IN CONTEMPORARY SERBIAN
LITERATURE ........................................................................................................ 377
Vesna Brankovi
CONSERVATISM AND OPPORTUNISM IN THE AMERICAN COUNTRY
MUSIC TEXTS ...................................................................................................... 391
Zorica ergovi-Joksimovi
THE ONTOLOGY OF SPACE: UTOPIA, DYSTOPIA AND HETEROTOPIA
IN MARGE PIERCYS WOMAN ON THE EDGE OF TIME ............................. 404
Vladislava Gordi Petkovi
REFERENCES AND RESONANCES: TENNESSEE WILLIAMS
AND WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ........................................................................ 413
Sonja Jankov
A PORTRAIT OF THE ARCHITECT AT FIFTY FOUR: PETER
GREENAWAYS CENOTAPH FOR JOYCEAN MODERNITY ........................ 423
Jelena Jovievi
USE OF VIOLENCE ON STAGE IN THE PORTRAYAL OF MODERN
CULTURE IN SARAH KANES BLASTED ........................................................ 437
Nataa Karanfilovi
GHOSTS AND GHASTLY CREATURES OF THE
DOWN-UNDERWORLD THE AUSTRALIAN GHOST STORY ................. 447
614
Milena Kosti /Vesna Lopii
RACE AND GENDER IN EMILY PAULINE JOHNSONS
A RED GIRLS REASONING ............................................................................... 459
Viktorija Krombholc
(IN)VISIBILITY AND POWER IN SARAH WATERS'S AFFINITY ................. 469
Arijana Luburi-Cvijanovi
INNOCENCE AND EXPERIENCE: ECHOES OF WILLIAM BLAKE AND
GOTA KRISTF IN CHRIS ABANIS SONG FOR NIGHT ............................ 480
Sergej Macura
SOME CONCEPTIONS OF INCEPTION: WHAT CHRISTOPHER NOLAN
OWES TO JORGE LUIS BORGES ....................................................................... 490
Aleksandra Mari
MY PHONY ROLE AS HUSBAND AND FATHER: PERFORMING
MASCULINITIES IN DON DELILLO'S UNDERWORLD ................................. 501
Ivana Mari
IDENTITY IN ARUNDHATI ROYS THE GOD OF SMALL THINGS AND
KIRAN DESAIS THE INHERITANCE OF LOSS: AMBIVALENCE AND
MIMICRY .............................................................................................................. 508
Claire McGrail Johnston
READING THE IRISH NOVEL: A GOTHIC ENCOUNTER OF TREMULOUS
SIGNIFICANCE ................................................................................................... 518
Aleksandar B. Nedeljkovi
MORAL EQUATIONS OF THE KILLING OF HARRY LIME IN THE
THIRD MAN .......................................................................................................... 531
Jasna Poljak Rehlicki/Ljubica Matek
DESIRE IN HEMINGWAY'S THE SUN ALSO RISES AND FITZGERALD'S
THE GREAT GATSBY ......................................................................................... 545
Danijela Proi-Santovac
CRITICAL APPROACHES TO FAIRY TALES FROM THE EIGHTEENTH
CENTURY TO THE PRESENT ............................................................................ 555
Selma Raljevi
THE AESTHETICS OF SURVIVANCE IN GERALD
VIZENOR'S HIROSHIMA BUGI: ATOMU 57 .................................................... 568
615
Sanja otari
POSTMODERNIST 'FORMLESSNESS' AS UNCOMMITTED
COMMITMENT IN DONALD BARTHELME'S AND ISHMAEL
REED'S FICTION .................................................................................................. 575
Ivana Trajanoska
WORD AND IMAGE IN DOROTHY RICHARDSONS PILGRIMAGE:
PICTORIALISM AND GENDER IDENTITY IN POINTED ROOFS ................. 587
Sonja Veselinovi
TWO ANTHOLOGIES OF CONTEMPORARY ENGLISH POETRY
IN THE SERBIAN LANGUAGE .......................................................................... 600
610
Filozofski fakultet u Novom Sadu
Odsek za anglistiku
dr Zorana inia 2
21000 Novi Sad
tel: +381 21 485 3900
+381 21 485 3852
www.ff.uns.ac.rs
Lektura i korektura:
Odsek za anglistiku Filozofskog fakulteta u Novom Sadu
Dizajn logoa:
ELALT Team
Prelom publikacije:
tamparija SAJNOS
Novi Sad
Tel: +381 21 499 088
CIP Katalogizacija u publikaciji
Biblioteka Matice srpske, Novi Sad
CIP
,
811.111(082)
821.111.09(082)
INTERNATIONAL Conference on English Studies English
Language and Anglophone Literatures Today (1 ; 2011 ; Novi
Sad)
Proceedings / The First International Conference on English
Studies English language and Anglophone Literatures Today
(ELALT), (Novi Sad, 19 March 2011) ; [urednici Ivana
uri Paunovi, Maja Markovi]. Novi Sad : Filozofski
fakultet, Odsek za anglistiku, 2011 (Novi Sad : Sajnos)
Nain dostupa (URL) : http://www.ff.uns.ac.rs. Nasl.
preuzet sa ekrana. Opis grae na dan 20. 02. 2012. .
Bibliografja uz svaki rad.
ISBN 978-86-6065-102-2
a) Engleski jezik b)
COBISS.SR-ID 269459975