In
the second chapter of Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There, a young Alice Liddell accuses the Red Queen of speaking nonsense, and is supplied with the response "You may call it `nonsense' if you like, but I've heard nonsense, compared with which that would be as sensible as a dictionary!"
It seems to me that fandom is a sort of Wonderland/Looking-glass land and the Red Queen's point is well-made. How often do we assume that the meaningfulness of our terms rest on our ability to define them?
My first reaction to all this is to notice how often the lj community's reaction to these issues is to have a poll--sort of a more democratic version of l'academie francaise. Even when someone like
Xochiquetzl says, "I have approximately zero interest in whose definition of gen was correct and whose was incorrect," this urge to settle matters of usage by democratic vote is indicative of a need to pin down frustrating terms to hard-and-fast meanings we can all agree upon--and a sense that, until we do, we're not all speaking the same language. At the very least, its a chance to test the waters to see if others share your understanding of a word and so predict if you'll be misunderstood. Of course, I'm not ignoring the simple fact that "polls are cool, yo," either.
"As sensible as a dictionary" isn't all that sensible when we think about it--we're defining words by using more words, which in turn need words to define them. While I could conceivably use a French-to-French dictionary, armed with my very basic knowledge of the language, to learn the meaning of an unfamiliar word, a German-to-German dictionary would be relatively useless to me seeing as my German pretty much consists of ubermensch, zeitgeist, and ding-an-sich. It seems one must be initiated into language to use language.
Anyway, Mark Rosenfelder has a
rant over at
the Metaverse which argues that definitions are pointless. He is interested in linguistics, cybernetics, and several other fields which were profoundly influenced by the "linguistic turn" of the last century--Wittgenstein's influence, direct and/or indirect, is particularly noticeable. What prompts him to write his rant, however, is not purely philosophical speculation, but politics: specifically, politicians' attempts to define terms such as "libertarianism" or even "freedom" so as to reshape the parameters of the debate. Everyone is for freedom, but not everyone agrees that freedom necessarily requires the overthrow of governments. (This, it seems to me, is related to the fannish discussion of
ultimate terms.) Philosophy of language, then, has particular relevance to actual kerfuffles both in RL and in fandom--it's not reserved for the Ivory Tower. (I've often come into contact with these sorts of kerfuffles during conversations on religion--does Christianity have a core essence which, if you reject, you no longer are a Christian?)
I tend to agree with Rosenfelder's conclusions that definitions don't work. After reading a good chunk of the later Wittgenstein's posthumous Philosophical Investigations for my philosophy of religion class, the point is certainly driven home to me how easy it is to problematize our language use. (Not that I needed any convincing; I've self-identified as a post-structuralist for years. Don't call me a postmodernist, though.) The real question is where that leaves us.
Tearing down language, especially when we assume that any account of a stable language requires some underlying Platonic substance (what one of my profs once called "Richard Rorty's bring-your-own-straw Platonic strawman [sic"), is easy. Building it back up again is hard. Providing an account of an unstable language which nonetheless manages to communicate is a difficult task.
As fen, we can't just stop talking because we are paralyzed by the fear that someone will misunderstand us. Canon, fanon, AU, badfic, conventional, unconventional, slash, het, gen, 'ship, fandom, &c. are all useful terms, even if arguing over where one boundary begins and another ends usually isn't. The more categories we have to divide the world up into, the more perspectives we get on it, and the better we understand it even as the arbitrariness of those very categories becomes that much more clear. These are the type of advantages that appear when fandom becomes introspective, turns within, and studies itself--an important niche which
fanthropology fills.
"The proper study of mankind [sic], is Man [sic]." Alexander Pope, Essay on Man.
Now pretty much everybody I've linked above has demonstrated at the very least an instinctual understanding of everything I've said. Nothing above is really all that profound, and frankly, I'd be surprised if it ends up being all that controversial. One doesn't really find the fundamentalist attitude of one set of definitions being universally prescriptive in fandom--we recognize that the language is constantly changing (especially since so many of the terms we use are neologisms).
Cross-posted to
my livejournal.