Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Validation through Spivak

Sometimes when I'm called upon to read a great deal of work by the same author in a short amount of time, I go through a series of stages: Diligent and objective attention to the text, frustrating noncomprehension of the text, irritable criticism of the author's obtuseness, breakthrough in understanding, appreciation of the text's argument, reflection on the excellence of the argument embedded in the obtuseness. That's often the experience I have with reading the work of poststructuralists like Jacques Derrida, Judith Butler, and in this case Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. I've arrived at the last stage in this series with last night's reading of "Three Women's Texts and a Critique of Imperialism"; not there yet with "Can the Subaltern Speak?"

I actually don't buy a lot of what Spivak is arguing--I think there are big big holes in her argument here--but there is still so much that is thought-provoking and useful and relevant about this article. It's very satisfying as a fledging literary scholar and theorist to get to the point in your reading where you "get it" and you remember how it all fits together, and you can conceive of how the discourse that precedes you is produces and how you can converse with it from your own position of knowledge and understanding. I actually found reading this article to be very inspiring and motivating to me as a scholar. So that's cool. Here's the summary I wrote for Dr. Raval's class:

“Three Women’s Texts and a Critique of Imperialism” by Gayatri Spivak, 1985

Summary:

In this essay Spivak examines three works by women, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys, and Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, as a way of demonstrating (among other things) that literature written in an imperialist framework does not subvert imperialism simply because it is written by women. Spivak reminds us that imperialism was England’s “social mission” and “a crucial part of the cultural representation” of England to itself, particularly during the nineteenth century. Because this is a “fact,” it ought not be disregarded in the consideration of nineteenth century literature, and to ignore it amounts to furthering the “imperialist project, displaced and dispersed into more modern forms” (896). Her primary concern in this article is to expose the imperialist “worlding” at work in Jane Eyre, to examine Wide Sargasso Sea as Jane Eyre’s “reinscription,” “…and Frankenstein as an analysis—even a deconstruction” of Jane Eyre’s worlding (896).

Spivak first identifies “what is at stake, for feminist individualism in the age of imperialism” as “childbearing and soul-making” (897). In other words, the woman in imperialist society is tasked with creating humanity/humans--through sexual reproduction and also through imperialism’s “social mission”: to civilize the Other. Spivak does not take a position of blaming women for their complicity in imperialism but instead explicates their place in the patriarchal imperialist hegemony by way of drawing an analogy from Roberto Fernandez Retamar’s “Caliban.” “Caliban” subverts the colonizer/colonized binary, by positing that Caliban and Ariel, despite their disparate natures, are nonetheless equally in the control of Prospero, the “foreign magician.” In this triangular relationship, Caliban is constructed as the uncivilized native Other, Ariel is the “intellectual” native Other, and Prospero is patriarch and colonizer. Spivak suggests that the construction of English women in imperialism overlaps and bleeds into the construction of the “intellectual Other”—both are “not quite/not male” (897).

Spivak points out Jane Eyre’s “self-marginalized uniqueness” within the “family/counter family dyad” around which Bronte’s novel is structured. Spivak contends that Jane’s progress from being of the “counter family” (Other) to being of the “family” (Self) mirrors and reproduces “the active ideology of imperialism” (899). Spivak argues that this process is imperialist because it is constructed through imperialist ideology, made apparent in a number of dichotomies she calls attention to that underpin the novel—legal/illegal, human/animal, madness/reason, England/not-England, etc. Jane must displace Rochester’s mad, animalistic, foreign wife Bertha Mason in order to take her place in the family—that is, asserting her personhood--in imperialist terms. The discussion of Wide Sargasso Sea as a reinscription of Jane Eyre, in which Rhys attempts to reimagine Bertha/Antoinette as intelligent (Ariel) rather than without reason (Caliban), serves to clarify and focus Spivak’s observations about the imperialist framework within which Jane Eyre operates. Her analysis of Wide Sargasso Sea dwells on the role that language, voice, and text (signifiers) have in both aiding and impeding one’s project of individualizing. She suggests that a woman/Other cannot arrive at a sense of self without reproducing imperialist constructions. She writes, “No perspective critical of imperialism can turn the Other into a self, because the project of imperialism has always already historically refracted what might have been the absolutely Other into a domesticated Other that consolidates the imperialist self” (904).

Spivak concludes her article with a discussion of Frankenstein as a counterpoint to the imperialism embedded in Jane Eyre and Wide Sargasso Sea. She calls Frankenstein “a text of nascent feminism…[that] does not speak the language of feminist individualism” which relies on “the axiomatics of imperialism” (905). Though present, imperialism, she argues, is merely incidental in Frankenstein. Spivak contends that the novel avoids imperialist ideology by subverting the binaries which “world” Jane Eyre and Wide Sargasso Sea. She writes that the novel “is not a battleground of male and female individualism articulated in terms of sexual reproduction (family and female) and social-subject production (race and male). That binary opposition is undone in Victor Frankenstein’s laboratory” (905-6). Another main point of her dissection of Frankenstein is to make not of the fact that, here, neither Frankenstein’s creature nor women fit into the Caliban/Ariel/Prospero schematic that governs the previously discussed novels. In Spivak’s words, “the place of both the English lady and the unnamable monster are left open by this great flawed text” (909). Thus we can see yet again that the function of woman and Other overlap and intertwine in imperialist discourse.

Important terms:

Binary opposition

Feminism

Imperialism

Individualism

Other

Self

Signifier/signified

Social mission

Soul making

Subject/subjectivity

Worlding

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Revolution

I have been preoccupied in the past week with following the news of the popular uprising in Egypt--where, I should mention, I lived for three months in 2009--to oust Hosni Mubarak's authoritarian regime. Amid scanning my various social networking outlets for news of friends in Alexandria and Cairo, I made a half-hearted attempt to reacquaint myself with Edward Said's Orientalism. When I faced going to Postcolonialism today having only (re)read about 30 pages, I justified my negligence to myself with the reasoning that, were Edward Said still alive, he would approve of my choosing engagement with radical changes taking place on the ground in Egypt today over reading some thirty-year-old book for a class. Well, I hope he would, anyway. Really, though, there is no excuse for neglecting Said. Orientalism continues to be a remarkable book, and it should be required reading for everybody. So.

But sometimes things happen that shake our views of the world to their foundations. Things that will forever change our lives, if only in subtle ways. Things that remind us that this shit we read about in books is real. Isn't that the reason we study it in the first place? Anyway, when these things happen, I think it's not only acceptable but imperative that we climb down from the tower and try to get a sense of how things look from the ground. So, I took a break from some work this week to do that.

Revolution in Egypt aside, I wouldn't have been called upon to demonstrate my knowledge of Said's work anyway, because (as I expected) Dr. Raval lectured for the full two and a half hours of class once again. His lecture--which I think he began drafting twenty years ago and to which he probably makes only minor revisions now and again--was hugely informative, however, and probably deserving of a post unto itself. But I did want to record some of his highlights regarding required reading for scholars of Said, or of theory in general.

He recommended:
Discipline and Punish and Madness and Civilization by Michel Foucault
Selections from the Prison Notebooks by Antonio Gramsci
Lenin and Philosophy by Louis Althusser
Mimesis by Erich Auerbach
In Theory by Aijaz Ahmad

That's all for now. I'll revisit Said again soon.