Uprooting the Culture

"For what we are asking be scrutinized are nothing less than shared cultural assumptions so deeply rooted and so long ingrained that, for the most part, our critical colleagues have ceased to recognize them as such. In other words, what is really being bewailed in the claims that we distort texts or threaten the disappearance of the great Western literary tradition itself is not so much the disappearance of the either text or tradition but, instead, the eclipse of that particular form of the text, and that particular shape of the canon, which previously reified male readers' sense of power and significance in the world."

~Annette Kolodny, "Dancing through the Minefield"

I am fascinated by the Feminist theorists we have been reading in class, not only because I don't recall reading much by Feminist theorists before (even though I have read works by women writers), but also because I am amazed at what they are actually saying. Brought up in a conservative home and church, the term "Feminism" brought with it some of the most negative connotations and outpourings of anger at how the Feminists are "bringing our country down." And because I did not read anything (perhaps may not have been "allowed" to because that would be siding with the enemy) by Feminist writers, I did think they were "evil."

And I am beginning to see that I was so wrong.

I won't even begin to go in to all the good that Feminism has done for women in our country and in our world, and I will admit that nothing is perfect and that evils and injustices can be done by any group or person in society (including some Feminist agendas in those categories). But I will go straight to the quote I have above from Kolodny dealing with cultural assumptions so deeply rooted in society, cultural assumptions about male superiority, and subsequently, female subordination, and also the assumptions that female writers are less valid than male writers. And I want to focus just for a little on these deep-seated, shared cultural assumptions that infuse all of what we do. Again, I never really thought about these assumptions until reading the Feminist theorists, but once I read them, I realized how true this is. As I spoke of in my last post, change in anything is often resisted, especially if it causes shifts of power in people who never want to lose that power and sway in the public domain (or private, for that matter). And in all these Feminist writings, I see them heralding change, a change that involves unraveling the deep-seated assumptions that males are better then females (sorry to give the most trite summarization possible). Obviously, I think this view is changing now, but I really believe these views are so deeply rooted... women's studies are just beginning to flourish, and also be seen as valid. And we still have a long way to go. But I also think we have to be careful not to go too far in the opposite direction... to do to women what we have done to men in the literary canon for so long. And as Kolodny says, in opening up the canon to females, we are not saying there is nothing valuable in the long-rooted male canon of our history, but instead opening that canon up to new writers, new interpretations, and in effect, a new inclusive canon that speaks to both genders.

Even though I think these deep-seated assumptions and views about male and female writers will persist for a long while (they are, after all, deeply rooted in our minds, so much so that it took me reading a Feminist perspective to discover them for the first time in my 21 years of existence), but I think we are on the road to at least unearthing and challenging those assumptions. After all, we just have to read the sources and see them for what they truly are...

Undoing the Centuries?

"To write. An act which will not only 'realize' the decensored relation of woman to her sexuality, to her womanly being, giving her access to her native strength; it will give her back her goods, her pleasures , her organs, her immense bodily territories which have been kept under seal; it will tear her away from the superegoized structure in which she has always occupied the place reserved for the guilty (guilty of everything, guilty at every turn: for having desires, for not having any; for being frigid, for being "too hot"; for not being both at once...)."

~Hélène Cixous, "The Laugh of the Medusa"

I know that's one of the longer quotes I've started a blog with, but as I was reading Cixous's "Laugh of the Medusa," I had an "aha" moment that both startled and amazed me. Published in the 1970s, Cixous spoke to the repressed woman, the woman standing at a crossroads in history, with a seemingly never-ending pile of male discourse behind her, and a seemingly impossible hurdle to cross in front of her with the liberation of the female intellectual. She illuminated the feelings of guilt women felt for being "too much" and yet "not enough." And she said that writing from yourself, from yourself as a woman, would allow you to reclaim your sexuality, and your beauty, and everything you are meant to be.

And then I realized that I've heard those words before, perhaps in a slightly different format, but the same message nonetheless. And I read them in Christian non-fiction... Christian books for women designed to "rescue" a woman's heart. The one I am thinking about most right now is "Captivating," by John and Stasi Eldredge.

Let me give you an example: In talking about the messages society (and perhaps discourse?) sends to women, they say,"Isn't that just the message you've lived with all your life as a woman? 'You're too much, and not enough. You're just not worth the effort'" (86).

And still another place they talk about a woman's shame:

"We come to believe that some part of us, maybe every part of us, is marred. Shame enters in and makes its crippling home deep within our hearts. ...shame keeps us pinned down and gasping, believing that we deserve to suffocate. ...Shame makes us feel very uncomfortable with our beauty. ...We either think we don't have any beauty or if we do, that it's dangerous and bad" (73-74).

Sound a little similar? I was amazed when I read the quote from Cixous, and I immediately realized that much of Christian nonfiction right now aims to reclaim the hearts of women... to reclaim the beauty of women (perhaps, too, their sexuality), to reclaim their self-images, to show them they are whole and do not need to feel guilt for being who they are.

And then I thought, how do women get to this point to begin with? Why is there such a plethora of books out there dealing with this topic of a woman's self-image (written mostly, or almost entirely, by women)? Why is this the dominant feeling women have? Are they born with this feeling of inferiority and worthlessness? I am no psychoanalyst, but I will venture to say that this is a learned behavior / thought process. But why does it happen? Cixous, and other feminists, argued that it was greatly because of the previous history of male discourse, and only male discourse, that causes such repression. And I really see her point. The male discourse has been repressive, especially in light of the fact that it did not give woman her own voice, but it also has shown women again only in relation to men (I'm thinking about the binary oppositions discussion we had in class today), which ultimately does not allow women the totality of their being.

And then I also thought about conservative Christians and the "attacks" I have heard about feminism and it's "evils" in society, how it is effacing all we know of morality (yes, I have heard that). And I really wonder... what is inherently wrong with giving woman back her voice and her beauty / sexuality? God created us man and woman, equal in his eyes as humans. I can't see how a loving God would say women must remain silent and guilty of who they are. That just doesn't make sense to me.

And I also think... these attacks again feminism... is it because change is taking place, and no one likes change, especially if it removes from them their power? I still have many questions and not as many answers... but it's definitely something to think about...

The Women of History

"All these relationships between women ... are too simple. So much has been left out, unattempted. And I tried to remember any case in the course of my reading where two women are represented as friends. ...But almost without exception they are shown [only] in their relation to men. ... And how small a part of a woman's life is that."
~Virginia Woolf, "A Room of One's Own"

I had never thought of literature in such terms. Sure, I've been introduced to the Feminist theorists, but I can't recall ever internalizing the fact that most all literature, up until Jane Austen's time, only portrays women in relation to men, if they portray women at all.

Go back to Petrarch, where the lover pines for his beloved. She does not acquiesce to his proposals, and he is left without the lover he so desires. But we know nothing about the woman, except that she is the woman who does not return the man's love. End of story. And then there's Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet," with again the focus on Juliet in relation to Romeo, and also her father... but still in relation to men all the same. In "MacBeth" we may see a little more of the actual character of Lady MacBeth, but she is still seen in relation to King Duncan and her own husband. And she even asks to be "unsexed" so she can be more like a man.

So what does this say about women, and about how this literary canon informs us as women today? Obviously, this literature shows women only in one type of role, that in their relations to men. And I thought back to my childhood, how Disney movies and fairytales all placed the woman in relation to the man. How I grew up believing that I had to have a man to be whole (I have now realized my error in this train of thought), and I attribute that greatly to books and movies. Those books and movies that showed true love and women searching for their prince charming, or even women being "bold" enough to refuse the man. And that's how I thought life had to be... thinking of women (and myself) in relation to men. I know you are getting biographical information that you didn't ask for... but I was an avid reader of romance novels (and I give the term "romance" novel to those like the Anne of Green Gables series and the Little House on the Prairie books. And I read the love story parts over and over. I could have cared less about the rest). And these romance novels, although they often painted a bigger portrait of women than those of long ago, still gave women in relation to men... entire books on the search for a woman's completeness through a man, in fact. And that is what I internalized, for better or for worse.

And then I think about the Christian books out there, the ones that say you are whole because of who you are, not in relation to other men. That you don't need a man to be pretty or whole or anything else. But do we have to say this because women automatically think - from the day they are born - that they need a man to be beautiful or whole or worth something, or is this view learned from society and from the literature that surrounds us each day? I would venture to say is it the latter. Yes, I believe women and men "complete" each other... but it doesn't necessarily have to be in a romantic sense all the time. And we certainly don't have to spend our entire lives as women searching for the man that will make us feel whole... for a man can never do that, and nor can a woman do that for a man. And yes, we were created man and female, to live side by side, together working through this life and towards God. But each one of us separately has different gifts and talents that work for a wholeness in the world... but we have to know both sides, not just one in relation to the other.

But I digress... Yes, women have been portrayed only in relation to men, and until recently, they still were. In the beginning of the semester, I read "Mama Day" and "Beloved" for a class.... and both books gave me thorough pictures of women, not only in relation to men, but in relation to each other and themselves. And just as men need men in literature, so women need women - and themselves - in literature. Through reading these books, I am now discovering what it is to be a woman... to be that one, whole, beautiful part of the twofold human race. And yes, women do have to be seen in their relation to men... but that is not all they are. We were created man and female, each one with our own gifts and talents. It's time to let both women and males shine through literature...

A Class Distinction

"Popular taste applies the schemes of the ethos, which pertain in the ordinary circumstances of life, to legitimate works of art, and so performs a systematic reduction of the things of art to the things of life. ...Intellectuals could be said to believe in the representation - literature, theatre, painting - more than in the things represented, whereas the people chiefly expect representations and the conventions which govern them to allow them to believe 'naively' in the thing represented."
~Pierre Bourdieu, "Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste"

The upper and the lower class. The intellectual and the banal. The good and the bad. Marxist theorists such as Bourdieu focused on class distinctions based on monetary and intellectual status (which really goes hand in hand), among other things, in their writing. In "Distinctions," Bourdieu draws a sharp distinction between the upper and low classes and how they relate to literature. And I find myself questioning his assertions.

Let's start at the beginning: the intellectual elite - those who are educated - see art for what it is: art. The common people, however, look to art and see what it represents. They focus on the ethics of the art, and make it a legitimate art form based on these ethical assessments. They do not judge art on its form, but rather on its content. And in this light, so it seems, Bourdieu places the working class on the low rung of the ladder, with the highest echelon of society being the intellectuals, those who like art for art's sake, and not for its ethical value. My first question is about this distinction: just because someone is not educated, does that mean they can't appreciate art for the sake of art?

Take Shakespeare's plays... they were not for the upper echelon. They were for the common people, and the common people loved them. No, perhaps they did not love the plays solely for their representation, but they loved them because they spoke. They entertained. But maybe those common folk really had something in their love for his plays: every school that I've ever heard of now studies Shakespeare. What started as a "common" art form has now risen into the higher bracket of society's intellectuals as we study and analyze Shakespeare's work. So that leads us to the fluidity of class... can works of art be equally enjoyed by both the upper and lower classes, and can it further travel through classes at different times to serve different purposes (or even the same purpose) in each class? I think in this case - and many other cases - it can be. The question further is, however, are the classes appreciating it in the same way? Bourdieu seems to say not: the lower class looks to their emotions and ethos to find value in a work of art, while the upper class looks to the art itself. But does that necessarily mean that one class is wrong and the other is right? I find that hard to believe. There is a place for form and a place for content, and each should be a viable thing to analyze. Yet, that leads us to the age-old adage: do we have a responsibility to appreciate that which we do not like? For if we now as middle class people - who are rising in stature - read plays that play with form, but the content does not meld with our beliefs, do we have a responsibility to still appreciate the form?

Giving Voice to the Voiceless: A Look at Oral Literature

We did the activity in class the other day: think of the storyteller (if there is one) in your family. Think of the context of that story. Recraft the story in your mind. And now think of the purpose that story served in your life as the listener, and further, what purpose the telling of it served in the life of the storyteller. And now think of how the hearing of it was different than reading a novel. It was quite different, wasn't it? The story was told in a familiar setting - that of family or friends - and you knew something about the people talking, and they too knew your background. You have a shared history. And of course, the story was as interesting - or perhaps even more interesting - than the last novel you read... mostly because the story is personal. It is about people you care about (not that novels are not personal and you don't end up caring about the characters).

But would you classify these oral stories as literature - as something that should be taught in classrooms? As something that should have weight in the grand canon of literature?

Peter Wasamba thinks so. As I mentioned in my last post, Wasamba (who is professor of oral literature at the University of Nairobi) believes that oral literature is not only a valid literary form, but also can be an aide in promoting reconciliation, as well as ensure land preservation in Africa, and perhaps ultimately, the world. And I also spoke of his thoughts on this matter in the last post, which for me, were very convincing.

But let's just take up the topic of oral literature in general. When I was listening to Wasamba's lectures, I started thinking about the art of theatre. I wrote about this before in a very early post, but do we ever think of theatre as literature? The play had to come from words, from a script, and that script would most definitely be found in the category of literature. And that story was most likely penned by an individual (not a collective source). Oral literature, on the other hand, can come from either one source or a collected source, and can take on mythic or legendary qualities as it is passed down. But eventually, if it is told enough, it is written down.

So my question is, does oral literature only become literature once it is written down? Or is there an inherent literary quality in these stories, as they have the potential to be put down on paper for the whole world to see? For if there is a potential to these unwritten stories, then it follows that these stories and their storytellers are potential literary authors. And that further means that oral literature is a valid form of study in classrooms. But in this case, you really can only "study" oral literature once it has been written down. Does that mean that the written story can no longer be titled "oral literature" and must just be termed "literature"? Or do these stories retain any part of their orality?

I read a book in a Personal Narratives class here, and it was a collection of stories from an African American family. All the stories had been passed on for generations, and some had taken on mythic proportions. But the book was a legitimate form for us to study, and the purpose of the assignment was to have us discover the genre of family folklore. It was a meaningful assignment to me, and it made me realize how much I want to know, remember, and eventually write down the history of my family. After all, writing is a form of preservation, and in writing down oral literatures, we are preserving voices that would otherwise have gone unheard and unnoticed.

And that is what Peter Wasamba kept stressing: in his field work, and ultimately his teaching, he is giving voice to the voiceless. He listens to the stories of those who are never heard (thereby forming relationships with these people, something nonexistent in solo literary readings), and he records them. His efforts are going to change conditions for the poor, for the land, and in general, for the betterment of humankind and our life on earth. But stories serve still more purposes: they preserve the lives of people, stories of hardship and wisdom, terror and joy... they give voice to the voiceless.

But of course, in order to study these oral texts, we have to read them. Or we have to write them down. But writing them down firstly involves listening. And our society is losing the art of listening...

But that is a topic for another day...

Oral Literature: Protecting the Planet

"Folklore is, therefore, tradition based, collectively held, orally transmitted, and a source of cultural identity. When looked at closely, it can be deduced that folklore defines the people's norms and taboos on the use of resources: when to use, what to use, and how to use them."

~Peter Wasamba, "Conservation for Sustainable Development: The Unexplored Potential of Kenyan Folklore"

From both reading Benjamin's "The Storyteller" and looking ahead to the upcoming visit of Peter Wasamba, I decided to research a little more on oral literature, and I am amazed as some of my findings. The above quote from Wasamba was included in this essay which sought to explore the role of folklore in the promotion of indigenous environmental conservation in Kenya, and how Western influence and the decline of oral literature due to such influences has not only destroyed the value of oral literature, but also begun a destruction of the nation's biodiversity and sustainable development.

In a nutshell, it goes like this: the myths and legends of the African people have served for centuries as "practical ecological, socio-economic, and spiritual functions. Emotional ties with nature and legends are two of the most powerful incentives to conserve and respect forests [and the land]" (Wasamba 2). Living in direct contact with the land day in and day out, the people knew it intimately and therefore knew how to care for and preserve it. But in walked Western civilization, who spread (or imposed?) both Christianity and their "modern" environmental planning to the African nations. They viewed the indigenous ecological belief systems as "backwards" and started their own system of land "preservation," and as the people's religious beliefs changed, they themselves "disintegrated the traditions on which the folklores were based" (Wasamba 4).

And the result has been bordering on the disastrous: land is eroding, and violence is breaking out as a result of the loss of bio-diversity which has exposed people to chronic poverty.

All because folklore was taken away.

I have heard of this before... not only from Africa, but also Asia and South America, too. We, the "civilized" West, have conquered their land, and in an effort to "civilize" the people and the land, we have not taken into account the richness of the indigenous people's knowledge of the land that they have so long lived in harmony with and preserved far longer than we could imagine. Because their folklore is so tied to nature and how to care for it, they knew how to use the land... and, in effect, love it. But that was contrary to the scientific rules we set up as Westerners to care for land. As Christianity spread through the land, the death of traditional religious beliefs and practices that supported indigenous conservation initiatives was accelerated, as these practices again were looked upon as heathen and "backwards."

This brings up a few issues for me: first off, the importance of oral literature. In my last post, I talked about oral literature and the storyteller vs. the novelist, as spoken of in Benjamin's "The Storyteller." And I wasn't entirely sold on his assessment of the two. But after reading Wasamba's article, I can see the importance... even the need... for oral literature. Not only does it preserve the history of a people, but as seen above, it preserves the land and way of life of a people. And I actually find that fact alone quite fascinating. The literature of the West may preserve history and ways of life, but I don't recall much of it being so tied to the land in its stories that it promotes environmental safety (a big issue now because we have been "destroying" our earth while we advance in technology, etc.).

Second, I wonder what this says about Christianity and Western civilizations. As Christians, we are called to be good stewards of our resources. But we chose to ignore (is that what we did?) the richness of the indigenous people's lives and stories, even pronouncing them as heathen (in the end, perhaps not being good stewards of the land). And in doing so, we have made them ashamed of their heritage (is this what we have done?), which in turn has made them forget the stories that have preserved the land (i.e. "be good stewards" of the land in our Western Christianized terms). To be honest, this makes me angry. Who were (are) we to do that, esp. without first seeing the goodness in their own ways of life?

I'm looking forward to Wasamba's lectures on Monday... I am anxious to hear more about oral literature in such societies, and anxious to see if I can reconcile my discomfort with my Western history and Wasamba's illumination of the importance of recapturing the essence of folklore...

The Storyteller vs. the Novelist: A Battle to the End?

"The storyteller takes what he tells from experience - his own or that reported by others. And he in turn makes it the experience of those who are listening to his tale. The novelist has isolated himself. The birthplace of the novel is the solitary individual, who is no longer able to express himself by giving examples of his most important concerns, is himself uncounseled,and cannot counsel others."
~Walter Benjamin, "The Storyteller"

Benjamin begins his essay by lamenting the decline in storytelling, brought about by our dying ability to exchange experiences. He says that "experience has fallen in value" and that as the years have moved forward, we have become poorer, not richer, in communicable experience. Interesting. How are we declining in experiences? We are living the same lives - longer, even - than our ancestors. We even have more knowledge of the rest of the world. We take communications classes now to improve said skills. And yet, according to Benjamin, those experiences - and the ability to communicate them if we have them - are dying rapidly. He further goes on to say that this decrease in communicability of experience means that we are losing the ability to seek counsel as readers/hearers or give counsel as writers/storytellers. Counsel and the wisdom it imparts are dying.

And the novelist perpetuates the continuance of this decline, as Benjamin throws in the shocking news that the novelist as the solitary individual is"no longer able to express himself by giving examples of his most important concerns, is himself uncounseled,and cannot counsel others." He seems to be saying that the novel - and its author - are not worth much.

Ah, but the dying breed of the storyteller. Now, he is the one we need. He has listened to the stories, has remembered them, and now tells those stories as the continuation of the grand story of life. And let's just admit it: oral literature is not highly regarded in our society. And even the written word is losing its audience. Good storytelling IS diminishing in our technological, fast-paced society.

Let's start with oral literature. At holidays, my family sits around the table and tells story after story about their past, their experiences, what made them who they are today. And I sit there fixed to their every word. I want to know the stories of their lives, the stories of generations past that I will never know. But that happens maybe three or four times out of the year, and I know for other families, it is even less than that. We have moved away from the family and into 60-hour-a-week jobs, movies, computers, and in effect, have lost much contact with other people, and even more with the stories of our elders. Stories used to be told around the fire at night, and those stories would be passed from generation to generation. Stories, legends, myths... they came down to us and we have internalized those stories until we don't even remember that they were from the storytellers of old, so much are they now part of our lives.

But as the storyteller (the familial/communal and the individual) diminished with the rise of technology, the novelist grew in stature. But how can the novelist not have counsel for others? How can he not express himself? How is the storyteller so far above the novelist for Benjamin? I am torn on this issue, and really don't think I agree with Benjamin here. Novelists and writers look at the world around them (their experiences and interactions with it) and put words to these. And with the dissemination of books now, their experiences - and their counsel - can be potentially shared with the entire world rather than just with one community. And in doing so, his experience and story - like that of the storyteller - also becomes the experience of those reading the tale. And yes, perhaps the novelist has isolated himself to write his text. But he has still lived in life and heard the stories and had experiences. And he stores them in his memory until he can write them out.

So, I think both oral storytellers and those storytellers of the written word both have wisdom to impart. But Benjamin may argue that the novel may have truth, but it is not continuing the greater story of society , as the novel must always be "new" if it is to be good, while the oral story builds upon legend and myth. Perhaps that is so, but perhaps also novelists are bringing new versions of the same story to their readers. Perhaps they too are continuing the greater story of a people, albeit a singular, individual one. Perhaps storyteller and novelist can remain side by side, telling different but profoundly similar tales of the story of humankind.

Now to work on reviving the art of reading in society...