Preface: Literariness of Theory*
Summary: The very
terms literature and theory cannot avoid the conceptual
essentialism or fundamentalism: the best one can do is to admit (or pretend to
accept) that there is some sort of boundary between these texts or discourses
or activities. Consequently, instead of - or at least besides - asking the
question of appropriateness or truth or validity of one theory or another,
there is a possibility to concentrate on how the theory is fabricated, the way
it is presented, the textual, tropical or generic nature of the theoretical
text. The two theses of the paper are that there may be a systematic review of
how a theoretical text is formed in order to be taken as a more or less literary
one; and that we should turn to some extreme cases of theoretical/literary
relation in order to have a better insight to the problem itself. The first
thesis is a programmatic one, rather than something completed; the idea rests
on the disqualified concept of the Russian Formalism of literariness (literaturnost’). Theoretically,
we could take into account several levels of literariness, without ever finding
the core of it, still, it may shed light on theoretical texts even when they
clearly remain on the side of theory. As to case studies, Roland Barthes’s Systeme de la Mode
is touched upon (as seemingly clearly non-literary), and Henry Louis Gates Jr.’s first chapter of his Loose Canons (as seemingly clearly literary).
The title of this conference indicates
a number of interesting approaches. One of them would certainly be to regard
literature as a theoretical sort of product: either as texts which embody a
number of theoretical ideas, or as a site of theory, inasmuch as reading is
always theoretically loaded. Reading, which is a prerequisite of literature, is
never innocent (or, as it is often said, it is never a first reading);
furthermore, the reader, whatever naive he or she may be, always have some
theories of what he or she is up to with his or her reading activity. It may be
a bit far fetched to call these often subconscious, automatized,
ideas a theory; any theoretician could easily reject such a use of the word.
Still, there is a theoretical
possibility to find theories underlying readings.
On the other hand, theories
themselves can be regarded as literary texts: do not take this sentence too
seriously, here I must make a number of qualifications. First of all, it is in
clear in a number of cases (though not necessarily all of them) what counts as
a literary text and what as a theoretical one. Usually, we have a rather firm
set of conventions concerning the position of texts; we know what discourse we
are involved in, we know the tacit rules of understanding, whatever they may
be. Also, regarding theoretical texts as literary ones may have a number of
motives: it may have its roots in simple ignorance of the traditions of reading
that text; it also may be a consequence of a momentary mistake; it can be that
the very point of the discourse in question tends to blur or deconstruct the
distinction; or it may be a deliberate effort on the part of the interpreter
(either as part of his or her irony, or as part of some demonstration) to show
that just any text can be taken to be whatever one wishes to.
An example of the last motive could
be Berel Lang’s ironic speculation on the reading of
the telephone book, which is to suggest that this text is very close to what we
would suppose to be a literary text.[1] Other
examples are many, from Nietzsche to Derrida, where the status of the discourse
is either non-conventional, or it is exactly the status what is at stake, or
where different reading conventions can function simultaneously.[2]
Nevertheless, all I have said so far
is bound to collapse or at least to be shaken. The very terms literature and theory are hitherto taken as something granted, as a sort of
essential to one or another text, and it does not really help if we take them
as characteristics of one or another discourse: the essentialist or
fundamentalist nature of the concepts themselves will probably survive. And
perhaps there is no way out of this situation: the best one can do is to admit
(or pretend to accept) that there is some sort of boundary between these texts
or discourses or activities, and continue the argumentation accordingly.
Do we read Umberto Eco’s or David
Lodge’s novels as being full of theoretical allusions and even implications
just because we happen to know that the biographical author is familiar, to say
the least, with the theories in question? Or are they theoretical as they are,
in themselves? What is Rousseau’s Émile? Is it philosophy (that is, theory), or a narrative?
What is Borges, in a number of his short stories? Does the story of Pierre Ménard have serious and interesting theoretical
implications - or is it our reading, the tradition of reading of Borges that
makes him a quasi-theoretician? And what about Swift’s passage on the strange
system of naming in Gulliver? It
became, just as Lewis Carroll’s
It was almost twenty years ago that
Elizabeth Bruss has published her Beautiful Theories,[3] a seminal
book concentrating to the theoretical/literary interface. Of course, I can
neither substantially modify nor even to summarize the main theses of the book.
All I can do is to add some minor contributions to the excellent insights of Bruss’s. As you will remember, her idea is that, I quote,
„Following Derrida, we might say that „theory” is neither fact or fiction,
neither the real not the imaginary, but establishes a point where such
dichotomies break down and an apparently exhaustive taxonomy shows itself
inadequate.”[4]
Consequently, instead of - or at least besides - asking the question of
appropriateness or truth or validity of one theory or another, there is a
possibility to concentrate on how the theory is fabricated, the way it is
presented, the textual, tropical or generic nature of the theoretical text.
Without calling into question the
extraordinary novelty of Bruss’s book, it must be
noted that the idea itself is neither a brand new one nor is it unique. On the
one hand, there is a genre tradition, that of the essay, which can traced back
at least to the Romanticism or to Montaigne or
perhaps even to Plato, that of the theory formed artistically; and the very
texts that Bruss chooses for analysis are, so to
speak, in the tradition of the essay: for instance, Susan Sontag
or Roland Barthes or Harold Bloom undoubtedly fall
within this tradition. In some cases this tradition is even contaminated with
the conventions of scholarly journalism (without any negative overtone of the
word): Barthes’ Mythologies
is a clear example. On the other hand, reading theoretical works as having at
least a touch of literature was, by the time Bruss’s
volume was published, a well known, though far from systematic, practice. In
fact, Bruss himself refers to Culler’s arguments
defending Lévi-Strauss as someone who made myths „interesting”[5], or to
Derrida or to Hayden White, and it is exactly these ways of reading theories
that trigger her own account. One could also add to her list the radical (and
very interesting) reading of
In this paper, apart from listing all
the difficulties we have to face and complaining about them, I would wish to
forward two theses: one is which I will not elaborate upon, although I am sure
it should be done (even if perhaps it cannot be done); and another, more simple
one. The first thesis is that there may be a systematic review of how a
theoretical text is formed in order to be taken as a more or less literary one;
the second thesis is that we should turn to some extreme cases of
theoretical/literary relation in order to have a better insight to the problem
itself.
As I indicated, the first thesis is a
programmatic one, rather than something completed: it well may be that one can
single out some characteristic types of literalization
(if that is a correct word) of literary theory. I must tell you in advance that
I will not be able to do that job; still, there may be a well justified
ambition to point out some literary characteristics that theoretical texts may
have, to present a sort of list and then make a more or less systematic
typology. The idea rests on the disqualified concept of the Russian Formalism
of literariness (literaturnost’):
that is, it may be supposed that certain characteristics of the text itself
warrant a specific (literary) status of the text.[7] Even
though the hypothesis is admittedly false, that would not cause the main
problem: it is always very interesting to review the consequences of a
misconceived starting point. But the closer one gets to these issues, the less
transparent they seem to be (as in the most cases it used to happen). For
instance, Hayden White’s tropical analysis of the of the narrative, including
the historical narrative[8], is
absolutely convincing; so that the inherent and necessarily metaphorical nature
of literary theoretical texts could be taken as one of the aspects of
„literariness”, and should be added to our list. Also, one should take into
account that literary history is inevitably history, story, with characters,
motives, places, time and plot, perhaps climax and anti-climax. Literary
history is telling a story of how literature emerged, developed and perhaps
disappeared: a typical story-telling situation.
However, it remains a question how
far and what specific texts are regarded as theoretical and/or historical: we
often face histories which are generally classified as a non-literary texts,
but some histories, such as Tacitus, Livius or Gibbon are traditionally regarded as pieces of
literature. Also, it is a question whether theoretical texts should undergo a
narrative analysis. The process of reading or reception of the literary work
is, of course, a temporal phenomenon, and temporality would indicate the
presence of at least a kernel of the narrative. But what about translation,
then? It also has its temporal aspects, as well as interpretation itself: does
it really mean that speaking about literary theory whatsoever we must always
think in terms of narrative?
Theoretically, we could take into
account several levels of literariness (a misleading concept, I repeat). One
could look for the metaphors of the text, the repetitions on different levels,
the parallelisms and the chiastic or mirror structures; the rhythm of the
sentences (length, punctuation, repetition of sentence structure); the position
of the persona behind the text (singular or plural, apostrophe, whether it
turns to the reader or not, etc.); we could look for the traces of certain
genres in theoretical texts, starting from drama (dialog, as in Plato or Diderot) to lyrical poetry (as in Barthes
or perhaps Heidegger) to narrative (as in literary histories).
Of course, one can never find the
gist of literariness: still, there may be a more or less comfortable list of
what „literary means” (priyom) are used by theoretical texts even
when they clearly remain on the side of theory. Moreover, a list like this list
should be done - even if it cannot be made, as I have indicated: because the
very idea of describing a text, from a neutral, innocent, external point of
view seems to be doomed to failure. Just as we can never establish the
„literariness” of a literary text, just because we are always in a
communicative situation with that text which preforms
our conception of that text, the same applies to any other text. All we can
perhaps do is to give account of our own conventions.
Nevertheless, it is a common
experience of us all that some theoretical texts differ from some other ones.
Let me take two examples, two ends of the range, so to speak: one from the
sixties, another from the nineties. The first is Roland Barthes’s
Systeme de la Mode,[9] and the
other is Henry Louis Gates Jr.’s first chapter of his
Loose Canons.[10] Now Barthes is, admittedly, one of those theoreticians who
always explore and transgress the boundaries, if any, between literary and
theoretical discourse. He is generally supposed to be, and rightly, I think, a
full-fledged writer in the same time as a real, genuine theoretician. This image
of Barthes is much fainter when one turns to his
so-called Structuralist works: the Éléments de la sémiologie,
for instance, is never praised for its literary potentials. It is not by chance
that Bruss uses this work only as a meta-text in her
book, illuminating Barthes’s conception of writing.
Similarly, she refers only once to the Systeme de la Mode.
Now if you read that rather early work carefully, you will find, on some quite
hidden points, very strange stylistic lapses (are they lapses?), some fractions
or eruptions: there are, for instance, evocations of the genre of the ode on some points, highly poetized and rhetorized paragraphs, asides and repetitions. These may be
taken simply as slips of the tongue, or as proofs of Barthes’
early attraction to literary way of writing. But they may also raise the
suspicions whether the rest of the
book is not rhetorized in a way or another: whether
the very strict technical descriptions and argumentations are not, in
themselves, parodic or at least parts of a literary
project. Seen from this angle, it may become apparent that Barthes’
sentences are extremely long, and that he just loves colons and semi-colons, by
which he binds together several long and sarmentose
sentences. He uses catalogues, the text is full of aphorisms, and the terms
written with capitals dangerously resemble to the characters of a story.
We find a real story on the other
extreme (or at least the other pole of the range), which would be Henry Louis
Gates Jr.’s short story, Canon Confidential: A Sam Slide Caper. As some of you will
remember, it is a short detective story, with overt intertextual
references to Raymond Chandler and written completely complying to the
conventions of what Chandler’s prose has established, where the fist person singular
narrator, a private investigator, tries to find out what goes on in the tricky
canon business, and, in the end (like sometimes in Chandler’s stories) he
himself becomes very much involved in the dirty practices of the canon people.
This excellent piece can be taken as a reflection on the status, nature and
history of canon formation: it is, then, a theoretical work. But is it not a
theoretical work simply because we know that Gates is in the tricky literary
theory business? The setting, some characters, the story itself are clearly
fictive; the narrator is evidently different from what we believe Henry Louis
Gates Jr. would be. (By the way, is Barthes’ narrator
identical with the biographical Roland Barthes? Is it
theoretically possible? And if not, is it not another sign of the inherent
literariness - or at least fictitiousness – of any theory, and, to be sure, of
any writing?)
We could perhaps take Gates’s funny story as nothing more than a funny story, a
pastime entertainment of an academic, an atelier text written in order to make
the professionals laugh and to make other professionals ridiculous. But is it
not because we have some prejudices about what a serious theoretician should
do? And if so, how can we take theoretically seriously texts which have been
written by serious writers but definitely not theoreticians?
Let me finish by some university
experiences of mine. Last year in Santiago de Compostela,
Djelal Kadir has asked us
to have seminars or classes about the topic of the would-be conference, Literatures of Theory, and he even sent
us later the project of his own course. Now we are having this conference and I
must confess that we in Pécs did not have any seminar
with that title or with that topic. However, the issue seems to be a hot one.
Although we did not have Literatures of
Theory course proper, our students have repeatedly raised issues directly
related to this problem. Just to quote some examples: One of our students has
written a paper on the philosophical aspects of the poetry an outstanding
contemporary Hungarian poet. Another chose to analyze a turn of the century
Hungarian Positivistic literary history (which was very influential, even
decades after its publication) to show that not only is it full of metaphors
and other tropes but it also can be read as a (literary) narrative. A favorite
topic of a third student of ours was the anecdotes of the New Historicist Greenblatt, which can be taken part and parcel of Greenblatt’s theory as well as an element of literary
communication. There was a very interesting paper commenting on the impossible
debate between Gadamer and Derrida, and emphatically
exploring the different stances that these two take towards writing, which has
its consequences in the literary nature of Derrida’s texts versus theoretical
nature of those of Gadamer. And in other courses the
literary nature of theoretical texts has repeatedly been addressed.
Speaking of university education, to
emphasize the literary nature of theoretical texts may have some curious
side-effects. Sometimes it leads the students just to give up any argumentation
or logic whatsoever (even if we know that argumentation and logic is highly
questionable in literary studies), and they choose to imitate the literary text
in question or to write a literary paraphrase or to get as close to the
literary discourse as they can. It is, of course, a pretty common critical
practice, literary critics very often try to evoke the literary works they talk
about by this sort of literary intertextuality as Michal Glowinski labeled it.[11]
Subjective accounts of emotions or streams of thought provoked by the literary
text is a natural consequence of the literary
theoretical thinking of our age. Also there may be a sort of despair, a
feel of loss of the firm basis of distinction between discourses: it is often
asked whether this or that type of text still counts as literary theoretical
proper, if it is legitimate to play around literary texts or to let the free
associations flow instead of strictly analyzing works of art, in a properly
controlled way, pursuing, in this sense, normal, traditional literary studies.
Too much freedom may sometimes frighten the uninitiated. And perhaps not only
them.
* This
work - my participation at the conference as well as
my work in
1997-1999 - was supported by the Research
Support Scheme of the OSI/HESP, grant No. 1578/1977.. - During the 1998 Annual Meeting of the Committee for Literary Theory of
the International Association of Comparative Literature (AILC), in Santiago de Compostela, Galicia, Spain, the members of the Committee
decided to have their next conference in Pécs,
Hungary, with the title „Literatures of Theory”. The official host of the was
the Department for Modern Literature and Literary Theory of the
[1] Berel Lang, „Reading”. In Berel Lang, Faces... and Other Ironies of Writing and Reading. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1983, pp. 11-12.
[2] Cf. also Malcolm Bowie, Freud, Proust and Lacan: Theory as Fiction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987.
[3] Elisabeth Bruss, Beautiful Theories. The Spectacle of Discourse in Contemporary Criticism. Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins Univerfsity Press, 1982.
[4] Bruss, pp. 490-1.
[5] p. 46.
[6] Shoshana Felman, Le scandale du corps parlant,Don Juan avec Austin, ou La séduction en deux langages. Paris: Seuil, 1980. (The Literary Speech Act: Don Juan with Austin, or Seduction in Two Languages. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1983.)
[7] See e.g., Peter Steiner, Russian Formalism. A Metapoetics. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, esp. pp. 23, 114.
[8] Hayden White, Metahistory. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1983.
[9] Paris: Seuil, 1967.
[10] „Canon Confidential: A Sam Slide Caper”.
In: Gates,
Henry Louis, Jr. Loose Canons. Notes on
the Culture Wars.
[11] Glowinski, Michal. „Intertextuality in Critical Discourse.” In E. de Haard, T. Langerak, W. G. Weststeijn, eds. Semantic Analysis of Literart Texts. To Honour Jan van der Eng on the Occasion of his 65th Birthday. Amsterdam: Elsevier, 1990, 201-205.