Booth and Foucault: Murdering the Author

In 'What Is an Author?", Faucault states that "an author's name is not simply an element in a discourse...; it performs a certain role with regard to narrative discourse, assuring a classificatory function" (107). Put more sucinctly, an author's name is not merely representative of the physical person, but of all of the connotations, ideas, and themes contained in and represented by that authtor's work. For example, the name Ayn Rand represents not just the person, but The Fountaindhead, Atlas Shrugged, and the objectivist philosophy. Faucault's statement that the name of the author defines the works and ideas associated with them more than a physical person is similar to Wayne Booth's idea of the implied author. In 'The Rhetoric of Fiction,' Booth states the implied author is the conceptualization of the values a literal author attempts to imply through his writings. In other words, the implied author is a concept of the literal author informed by the reader's understandings of the ideas represented in his writing. In both theories, the name of the author is assoicated with that author's ideas more than the person himself. Faucault takes this concept slightly further in implying that by using a name to define works and ideas rather than people we are essentially killing the author: "the work...now possesses the right to kill, to be its author's murderer" (102). By stating that the author's name now represents an amalgum of works, concepts, and ideas rather than a specific person, we are essentially removing the author from his work. Wayne Booth's implied author concept has a very similar function. The work of Booth and the Chicago Critics is, in part, a response to New Criticism, a theory which holds that it is the work itself rather than the author's intent that is of central importance. Booth does not quite take such a hard line, but his theory does contend that true meaning comes not from the actual author's intent but from the reader's understanding or conceptualization of the author's intent. By shifting the emphasis from author to reader, the theory of the implied author can be seen as an attempt to divorce the author from this work. In the end, the theories of Faucault and Booth, can be seen as removing the author from the work by using the author's name to imply a set of ideas rather than an actual person.

Lost in Czechoslovakia

The world in so much smaller than it seems. One hundred years ago, Jan Gebauer redefined how the Czech people related to their language. By categorizing the multinational components of his language, Gebauer created grammars and linguistic histories that were widely used by his countrymen. in the late 19th century, Gebauer was attempting to create a centralized language in a region that was heavily influenced by neighboring countries. His student Vilem Mathesius took up this idea and became one of the first scholars to work with how to create meaning between the Czech and English languages. He created a system which he believed could define linguistic meaning and composition across all languages. Mathesius' fascination with English literature led him to nurture the same interests in his student Rene Wellek, who would become the founder of comparative literature. These ideas have worked their way through linguists, theologians, and literary critics to become a part of our program. The research on Gebauer and his descendants has been fascinating but ultimately frustrating. The linguistic roadblocks that are keeping our group from advancing in this project (as far as I have found, Gebauer was not published in English)show that although ideas are linked realities are very different. There are plenty of references to Gebauer and his work in relation to other scholars, but information on the scholar himself belongs to the Czech people. We have made attempts of course, the ferret out some information, but I do not trust the efficacy of Microsoft's translation software (The Riegrova dictionary wrote baltistická password Jan Gebauer, all located in the sixth part of 1865). I am sure that other groups are experiencing the same problems as we explore older generations of scholars. This is, of course, probably no different from the frustrations experienced by the authors of all of the those historical essays we read at the beginning of our Norton book. It is up to us, I guess, to push forward to find information that we know exists. It is interesting, though, to be dealing with a language barrier when researching scholars who worked to connect and create meaning out of multiple languages. In addition, this research has shown how much politics has influenced and continues to influence education. Gebauer, Mathesius, and Wellek were working during the Russian revolution (Russian politics had a significant effect on their country) and during the rise of the Nazi party. Their ideas illustrate an attention to racial and cultural issues that scholars like bell hooks and Bizzell (my new favorite) are still grappling with today.

Basic English or The Simple Language of Persons to the West

In her presentation on I.A. Richrds, Audrey explained the concept of Basic English. Richards and C.K. Ogden belived that communication and meaning could be simplified if the English language were restricted to 850 words. (If anyone is interested a list can be found at http://ogden.basic-english.org/words.html. Ogden's word list may be slightly different from Richards', but I am going to run with it!) To say that the list is basic in an understatement. On a side note, I find amusing that the concept is called Basic English, but the words 'basic' and 'English' are not on list. We would have to refer to it as 'The Simple Language Of Persons to the West' and hope that no one from another Eastern European, South American, or North American country takes offense and that New Zeland and Australia don't mind being ignored alltogether.
Whether this list is the one intended by Richards or not, the idea of only working with 850 words is limiting. I suppose there is creativity that can be found in the arragement of words, but I would still not want to read something so limited. Even with these limitations, I wondered how Basic Enlgish could be used in the teaching of grammar. Patrick Hartwell writes that "writers need to develop skills at two levels...the [second] broadly metalinguistic rather than linguistic, involves active manipulation of language with conscious attention to surface form" (579). In other words, a grasp of grammar and how to manipulate sentence structure is an important tool for a successful writer. One of the many tasks of the writing teacher, then, must be to help develop this ability. It may be possible to begin this process by using Basic English as a kind of dry run. We could teach students about the rules of grammar within a set of simple, easily understood words in order to achieve clarity as well as demonstrate language's ability to produce endless meanings with a finite number of words. Basic English could also be used with ESL students. Again, it may be easier for these students to learn English grammar using a more restricted English vocabulary. The idea of using Basic English with basic writers or ESL students does, of course, restrict the students' use of language at the outset. The question arises then, would we be doing more harm than good? In "Inventing the University," David Bartholome argues that students must find an entrance into academic discourse by bluffing: "To speak with authority they have to speak not only in another's voice but through another's code...they have to do it before they know what they are doing, before they have a project to participate in and before...they have anything to say" (622). Student's must, in other words, perform the linguistic equivalent of playing in your mother's high-heeled shoes. They must try on and experiment with the voice and authority of academia. Would, then, the use of Basic English restrict their ability to experiment? Or, is it more important to teach them the ability to use language before allowing them exposure to more complicated forms?

God(s), Truth, and Logic

In class this week, we discussed Whatley and his ideas on universal truth. Whatley believed that Truth exists, but is only accessible to God. Men will never reach universal truth, but will find much in the hunt for it. This theory reminded me of Vico's Tree of Wisdom theory. In this his theory, Vico posited that there are several types of knowledge: direct knowledge possessed by the Gods, indirect knowledge possessed by heroes, and wisdom possessed by humans. The comparison between the two ideas is not perfect, but they do share a common foundation: the idea that there is a universal/foundational/direct knowledge held by a higher being from which humans are excluded. It is the job of humans to work towards an approximation of that knowledge. Each theorists\ states that men use education to advance closer to that knowledge knowing that they will never truly arrive. What does this mean in terms of writing? Gordon Rohman describes writing as a "groping process which is really without end" (223) The idea that a writer is groping for something implies that the something already exists. It is there, waiting for the writer to discover it. The fact that the process is "without end" implies that the writer will never completely find what he is groping for. Admittedly, I am stretching Rohman's ideas somewhat, but it is still an interesting comparison. Just like Whately and Vico, Rohman's theory implies that the writer is groping toward an ultimate truth or idea that he will never truly find. Rohman also states that the act of groping is as equally important as the idea discovered. This is similar to a claim made by Whatley, who believes that "logic does not tell one 'how to find an ambiguity, but where to hunt for it'" (181). In other words, logic is the mechanism that helps the writer "grope' for his subject. He does not find it, but learns from the act of searching.

Making Connexions

In this Tuesday's class, Dr. Souder tasked us with creating connections between the mass of material we are reading in Norton and our presentation research. We are, in other words, being asked to invent. After all, is invention not the basis of the product/process problem that has dominated the last two hundred pages of Norton? Edward P.J. Corbett advances this idea in "The Topoi Revisited" stating that "it has been only since the shift of interest from the finished product to the generating process that many teachers of composition have developed a curiosity about how their students go about writing the papers that they are assigned to write" (44). The renewed focus on the product/process problem engendered an interest in empirical research. If composition is not a "nonrational" activity, then there must be a way to quantify what we can and should teach. This emphasis on research and the reproduction of results can be seen as an attempt to borrow some of the ethos shared by the scientific disciplines. David Foster writes that "experiments will test and correct hypotheses which, in turn, will form more truthful knowledge...finally, composition inquiry has adopted the scientific methodology that will allow it to make defensible truth-claims" (453). Because science is based on fact, composition studies will, in theory, carry more weight if they are conducted in a scientifis manner. Foster's claim that composition departments are attempting to form an identity by borrowing ethos from other disciplines echoes a similar claim made by William Riley Parker in regard to English departments. Parker stats that English departments absorbed speech "in the hope of gaining academic respectability" (14). This borrowing of ethos was done by both English and Composition departments in order to increase respectiblity. In the same article, Parker states that "'English' has never really defined itself as a discipline" (13). This claim is echoed by Foster, who states that composition "cannot claim clear title for a recognized name" (451). Thus, there are multiple connections between the essays that we read. Granted, if we read enough there are bound to be connections, but, I like to think that as writer, teachers, and potential scholars we "don't find meanings, [we] create them" (Flowers 467).

Technology and Our Old Friend Foucault

It was wonderful having Dr. Burns in class and getting to stay late for our informal QA. One of the most interesting issues that we discussed last night was the use of technology. With the exception of word processing and PowerPoint, I had not thought much of the use of technology in the composition classroom. The introduction of blogging and web 2.0 platforms has introduced complications into the classroom. Emily's presentation regarding the audience of these kinds of platforms brought up an important issue. In his essay on free writing, Ken Macrorie writes about "Engfish," stilted academic English students believe professors want. It may seem that using Blackboard or another similar system that is patterned after a blog or social network would minimize this issues. Students are primarily interacting and writing for each other, so it is possible that they would write more naturally. I am not sure that this is the case. Even though the students may be directing responses and comments to their peers, they are still writing in an academic setting with the knowledge that their instructor is lurking. This set up calls Faucault's Panopticon in mind. Cynthia Selfe also draws this conclusion, stating that "although panoptic space differs from electronic bulletin boards...those who have conversed over computers will recognize how eavesdropping and watching are made easy through the architecture of electronic network." (42) Thus, even though we can replicate the casual style of social networking, students will still be writing for the illusive instructor who may or may not be watching.

One of the most interesting threads that ran through last night's presentations was an attack on foundational knowledge. This can be directly seen in Locke, but is also present the readings on Hume and Vico.
In his article on Hume, David Wooten discusses how Hume used source criticism to expose the party myths of Whigs and Tories. Each political party used an interpretation of historical events to establish their authority, to illustrate why they were the correct party. Hume believed that these myths should be "subject to impartial criticism." (288) In other words, Hume questioned the historical knowledge knowledge that formed the basis of party authority and "provid[ed] evidence that decisively undermin[ed] the rhetoric of political extremists." (288)
Locke questioned foundational knowledge in a much more direct way. By stating that people are "born into the world without any innate ideas," Locke takes direct aim at the concept of foundational knowledge. (425) Foundation knowledge implies that there is a one scheme of ideas that is correct and universal. How would these ideas be communicated if the "human mind acquires all its knowledge through experience?" (425) If each person experiences through senses, than each person much experience in a slightly different manner. Through this theory, Locke denied the existence of foundational knowledge, which had important political and religious implications.
Like Hume and Locke, Vico questioned foundational knowledge, but came to a different conclusion. Rather than undermine it completely like Hume and Locke, Vico implied that there was a need to adapt it to a modern scheme of education. His tree of wisdom theory seems to be based on the idea that a universal truth exists. If "human beings are excluded from direct knowledge posessed by the 'gods' and from the indirect or partial knowledge of the 'heroes,'" then there must some intangible truth for humans to be excluded from. Even though Vico did imply that some sort of foundational knowledge is necessary, he did make an argument for supplementing it with more modern sciences. Vico participated in a debate between contemporary and ancients scholars and found that "the inclusion of the study of new sciences and and arts would eventually bring the system advocated by his contemporaries to be superior to the methods of the ancients." (6). Thus, Vico states that some form of foundational knowledge exists, but that it is not necessarily the one that was espoused by the ancients.
Political power and authority was addressed in nearly all of the presentations, as was the importance of foundational knowledge. In order to change political power and opinions, Hume, Locke, and Vico attacked the beliefs that formed the basis of political authority.