Orientalism?
Drinking: Barefoot Pinot Noir, or, good wine for $6/bottle. The Barefoot Shiraz, Chardonnay, and sparkling wine are also excellent.
Writing: Keeler's midterm, using Edward Said, Stuart Hall, The Empire Writes Back, Mangunwijaya's Durga Umayi, Veit Erlmann, and Ralph Ellison as sources. What's bothering me about this combination of literature is not the lack of consensus between authors (That's expected and intended. If I wanted consensus I would have chosen literature to create it.) but the fact that, as Erlmann frequently points out, the Author and the Work are dead. In less postmodern language, the intention of an artist in creating art doesn't matter; it's the perception, reception, and use of the art that determines its meaning. By this logic, it would seem that art can't exist for its own sake, that art will continually be assigned political meanings and used as a means to an end -- of which the artist may or may not approve. Conversely, art created with a political meaning may be read as simply a novelty item -- which is what Said argues in Orientalism -- and the political commentary (and potential literary value) ignored in favor of the "exotic" qualities of art created by an Other. In "The World and The Jug", (great essay that is under-read and under-appreciated) Ralph Ellison previews Said's argument in his criticism of Richard Wright's Black Boy. ("The World and the Jug" was published around the 1960s, and Said's book came out in '78. I'd be willing to bet Said read Ellison.) For those unfamiliar with the subject matter, Black Boy is often forced upon unsuspecting high school freshmen by their English teachers. Black Boy is also considered the first piece of "real," "Black" literature and, as such, has been canonized along with such other classics as Lord of the Flies and The Awakening. (Neither has a place on any reading list, in my opinion, but that's another entry.) My problem with Black Boy is not Richard Wright's race; like Ellison, I think that an author's race/ethnicity(/sex/gender identity/sexual orientation) should have no bearing on the judgment of his/her/hir work as worthy of admission to the Canon. Rather, and again echoing Ellison, my problem with Black Boy is that the book in no way qualifies as a piece of literature and is, in fact, a truly awful read. Nevertheless, Black Boy is forced upon unsuspecting teenagers simply by virtue of the fact that Richard Wright is African-American. This is what Ellison specifically protests in "The World and The Jug" and what Said expands into general criticism of the Western world in Orientalism.
The problem with Said and Ellison's arguments, in the case of Durga Umayi, is that Durga Umayi actually has literary merit and can exist as a work of art in its own right -- even if one is ignorant of the political issues at hand. Like Gulliver's Travels and "A Modest Proposal", Durga Umayi is well-written and hilarious literary irony. Even if I had no knowledge about Indonesian nationalism, Durga Umayi would be funny simply because it's a fantastic parody of pretentious European writing styles. (This is completely independent of the fact that the writer is Indonesian. The writing style would be equally funny if coming from a Brit or an American.) In other words, I would "get the joke" on some level even if I didn't understand the political argument in Durga Umayi. This, I think, is why Durga Umayi is popular outside Indonesia: Westerners, having knowledge of the Western literary canon, understand when something pokes fun at that canon, and most can appreciate the humor. On the other hand, to miss the political implications of Durga Umayi is to miss half the irony. However, the book is so strangely worded and the sentences so long and ambiguous as to complicate a political reading even to those familiar with postcolonial Indonesia. Again, I draw comparisons to Johnathan Swift: Durga Umayi is highly sarcastic and ironic and has an unreliable narrator, making it difficult to determine Mangunwijaya's actual position on the political issues brought up by the novel. However, I read Mangunwijaya's ambiguity as an attempt -- along the lines of "A Modest Proposal" -- to make his readers think for themselves, instead of presenting a prescriptive solution to a political problem. Forcing the reader to think, in my opinion, is the mark of good literature.
However, to complicate matters further, the definition of "good" literature is a Western one, which is unfair and biased, if one adheres strictly to Said's arguments. According to the basic principles of cultural relativism, a given culture should determine its own standards for what does or does not constitute "good" literature. On these principles, it is worth noting that Durga Umayi has had little success in Indonesia, mostly because the general public finds the novel completely incomprehensible by virtue of its sentence structure. It is also worth noting, similarly, that most works of "literature" are considered completely incomprehensible by the general public in America, also by virtue of the fact that their sentence structure requires the audience to read above a fourth grade level. Thus, it would seem that works of "literature" are generally neither understood nor appreciated by the general public, regardless of language or nationality. It follows, then, that Mangunwijaya's lack of success in Indonesia may not indicate a lack of literary merit in Durga Umayi. However, the definition of "good" literature relative to the values of a given culture is still a worthy question. Also, the question of who has the right to decide what "a culture" is, and this is where I refer to Erlmann's concept of aesthetic communities based not on "culture" but a mutual (and fleeting) attraction to the beautiful or the sublime based on Immanuel Kant's idea of disinterested pleasure. Aside from my (quite numerous) problems with Kant and my belief that pleasure is, by definition, sought based on interest, I think Erlmann does suggest an ideal to strive for in that the acknowledgment of an object as art should not be based solely on appreciating said object through the lens of "culture" but because the object has some inherently, universally "good" quality. This is not to say that there are universal standards of taste; Dr. Erlmann has himself denied that theory when explaining the concept of aesthetic communities. Rather, Dr. Erlmann argues for strategic anti-essentialism, which seems to be the answer and solution to Orientalist discourses built on exoticism, novelty, and difference, and sufficient grounds for the inclusion of Durga Umayi in the literary canon.
And now my brain is tied in enough knots to warrant some sleep. The above will probably be edited to become the rest of my mid-term tomorrow. And, in a few years, will be included in my book -- which I expect all of you to buy. ;-)
Writing: Keeler's midterm, using Edward Said, Stuart Hall, The Empire Writes Back, Mangunwijaya's Durga Umayi, Veit Erlmann, and Ralph Ellison as sources. What's bothering me about this combination of literature is not the lack of consensus between authors (That's expected and intended. If I wanted consensus I would have chosen literature to create it.) but the fact that, as Erlmann frequently points out, the Author and the Work are dead. In less postmodern language, the intention of an artist in creating art doesn't matter; it's the perception, reception, and use of the art that determines its meaning. By this logic, it would seem that art can't exist for its own sake, that art will continually be assigned political meanings and used as a means to an end -- of which the artist may or may not approve. Conversely, art created with a political meaning may be read as simply a novelty item -- which is what Said argues in Orientalism -- and the political commentary (and potential literary value) ignored in favor of the "exotic" qualities of art created by an Other. In "The World and The Jug", (great essay that is under-read and under-appreciated) Ralph Ellison previews Said's argument in his criticism of Richard Wright's Black Boy. ("The World and the Jug" was published around the 1960s, and Said's book came out in '78. I'd be willing to bet Said read Ellison.) For those unfamiliar with the subject matter, Black Boy is often forced upon unsuspecting high school freshmen by their English teachers. Black Boy is also considered the first piece of "real," "Black" literature and, as such, has been canonized along with such other classics as Lord of the Flies and The Awakening. (Neither has a place on any reading list, in my opinion, but that's another entry.) My problem with Black Boy is not Richard Wright's race; like Ellison, I think that an author's race/ethnicity(/sex/gender identity/sexual orientation) should have no bearing on the judgment of his/her/hir work as worthy of admission to the Canon. Rather, and again echoing Ellison, my problem with Black Boy is that the book in no way qualifies as a piece of literature and is, in fact, a truly awful read. Nevertheless, Black Boy is forced upon unsuspecting teenagers simply by virtue of the fact that Richard Wright is African-American. This is what Ellison specifically protests in "The World and The Jug" and what Said expands into general criticism of the Western world in Orientalism.
The problem with Said and Ellison's arguments, in the case of Durga Umayi, is that Durga Umayi actually has literary merit and can exist as a work of art in its own right -- even if one is ignorant of the political issues at hand. Like Gulliver's Travels and "A Modest Proposal", Durga Umayi is well-written and hilarious literary irony. Even if I had no knowledge about Indonesian nationalism, Durga Umayi would be funny simply because it's a fantastic parody of pretentious European writing styles. (This is completely independent of the fact that the writer is Indonesian. The writing style would be equally funny if coming from a Brit or an American.) In other words, I would "get the joke" on some level even if I didn't understand the political argument in Durga Umayi. This, I think, is why Durga Umayi is popular outside Indonesia: Westerners, having knowledge of the Western literary canon, understand when something pokes fun at that canon, and most can appreciate the humor. On the other hand, to miss the political implications of Durga Umayi is to miss half the irony. However, the book is so strangely worded and the sentences so long and ambiguous as to complicate a political reading even to those familiar with postcolonial Indonesia. Again, I draw comparisons to Johnathan Swift: Durga Umayi is highly sarcastic and ironic and has an unreliable narrator, making it difficult to determine Mangunwijaya's actual position on the political issues brought up by the novel. However, I read Mangunwijaya's ambiguity as an attempt -- along the lines of "A Modest Proposal" -- to make his readers think for themselves, instead of presenting a prescriptive solution to a political problem. Forcing the reader to think, in my opinion, is the mark of good literature.
However, to complicate matters further, the definition of "good" literature is a Western one, which is unfair and biased, if one adheres strictly to Said's arguments. According to the basic principles of cultural relativism, a given culture should determine its own standards for what does or does not constitute "good" literature. On these principles, it is worth noting that Durga Umayi has had little success in Indonesia, mostly because the general public finds the novel completely incomprehensible by virtue of its sentence structure. It is also worth noting, similarly, that most works of "literature" are considered completely incomprehensible by the general public in America, also by virtue of the fact that their sentence structure requires the audience to read above a fourth grade level. Thus, it would seem that works of "literature" are generally neither understood nor appreciated by the general public, regardless of language or nationality. It follows, then, that Mangunwijaya's lack of success in Indonesia may not indicate a lack of literary merit in Durga Umayi. However, the definition of "good" literature relative to the values of a given culture is still a worthy question. Also, the question of who has the right to decide what "a culture" is, and this is where I refer to Erlmann's concept of aesthetic communities based not on "culture" but a mutual (and fleeting) attraction to the beautiful or the sublime based on Immanuel Kant's idea of disinterested pleasure. Aside from my (quite numerous) problems with Kant and my belief that pleasure is, by definition, sought based on interest, I think Erlmann does suggest an ideal to strive for in that the acknowledgment of an object as art should not be based solely on appreciating said object through the lens of "culture" but because the object has some inherently, universally "good" quality. This is not to say that there are universal standards of taste; Dr. Erlmann has himself denied that theory when explaining the concept of aesthetic communities. Rather, Dr. Erlmann argues for strategic anti-essentialism, which seems to be the answer and solution to Orientalist discourses built on exoticism, novelty, and difference, and sufficient grounds for the inclusion of Durga Umayi in the literary canon.
And now my brain is tied in enough knots to warrant some sleep. The above will probably be edited to become the rest of my mid-term tomorrow. And, in a few years, will be included in my book -- which I expect all of you to buy. ;-)