As those of you who read my contribution to the Theory's Empire event no doubt remember, what I value about the anthology is that it demands readers think about the conflicting claims of different theoretical approaches. So I'm pleasantly surprised that Marjorie Perloff's "But Isn't the Same at Least the Same" and David Schalkwyk's "Wittgenstein's 'Imperfect Gardens'" essays in The Literary Wittgenstein work according to logically incompatible assumptions.
Perloff argues that Wittgenstein's language is translatable because it's concerned with language being translatable. Like Beckett, Wittgenstein's vocabulary consists of personal and demonstrative pronouns, ordinary verbs, basic nouns, and simple declarative sentences. The result is that his work, like Beckett's, can easily be translated. No controversies over the relative merit of the various translations of The Philosophical Investigations swirl because his quaint diction and calm style make the translator's job easy. Thus, Perloff concludes,
Such language games will become increasingly prominent in an age of globalization where the availability of translation is taken for granted. Poets and fiction writers, I predict, will increasingly write in what we might call, keeping Wittgenstein's example in mind, a language of translatability. (52)
There's no wrangling over the details and implications of Wittgenstein's work the way there is in the German translation of Robert Lowell's "Skunk Hour." Here's the English:
One dark night,
my Tudor Ford climbed the hill's skull;
I watched for love-cars. Lights turned down,
they lay together, hull to hull,
where the graveyard shelves on the twon...
My mind's not right.
Here's Perloff's analysis of it:
[W]hat eludes [the translator, Manuel] Pfister is Lowell's particular tone. "One dark night," for starters, has a fairy-tale quality (as in "Once upon a time") that gives an ironic edge to the reference to St. John of the Cross's "Dark Night of the Soul"--a quality lost in the German In einer dunklen Nacht. In line 2, the pun on "Tudor ("two-door") Ford" disappears even though Pfister retains the absurdly pretentious brand name. And his rendition of the third line is at once too specific and too long-winded: Lowell's casual "I watched" becames the emphatic ic hielt Ausshau, and Scheinwerfer ausgeschaltet ("headlights turned off") does not allow for the resonance of "lights" or of "turned down," which here connotes beds as well as the lights themselves. (35)
She continues in this vein for another paragraph, but you see her point: that mode of analysis that cannot be done on Wittgenstein's writing. "Wittgenstein's propositions are by means untranslatable in the sense that Lowell's "Skunk Hour" [is] untranslatable" (36, emphasis hers). Quoting Wittgenstein, she contends that his language has "remained the same and keeps seducing us into asking the same questions" because of its near-perfect translatability (43). Hammered home yet? Good. On to Schalkwyk, who begins his essay with a discussion of the untranslatability of Wittgenstein's prose:
The statement that philosophy should be written as poetry appears in Culture and Value: Ich glaube meine Stellung zur Philosphie dadurch zusammengefast zu haben, indem ich sagte: Philosophie durfte man eigentlich nur dichten (CV 24). Peter Winch translates this as: "I think I summed up my attitude to philosophy when I said: philosophy ought really to be written as a form of poetic composition." But his formulation doesn't quite convey the sense of the original. This is not the translator's fault, because English has no equivalent for the word dichten--an intransitive verb meaning to write poetry. Wittgenstein is saying ... that the activities of writing philosophy and writing poetry are closely related: to philosophize is to poetize--one should write philosophy only ("nur") as one would write poetry; philosophy should be nothing other than the writing of poetry.
I'm reserving judgment on whether I prefer Perloff or Schalkwyk's account of Wittgenstein until I finish the volume and work through the Philosophical Investigations on my own--Dissertation? What dissertation?--but what I want to stress for now is that juxtaposing these essays in the manner that Gibson and Huemer (the collection's editor) have focuses readers' attentions on the terms of the debates and the conflicting assumptions even sophisticated readers of Wittgenstein bring to his work.
This focusing is exactly what's absent from conventional Theory anthologies: Freud is presented alone instead of alongside critics. (Later psychoanalytic thinkers who tinker with Freud's work don't count as "critics" since they assume the validity of core psychoanalytic concepts.) Thus far The Literary Wittgenstein performs the function of introducing me to the concepts in a critical framework which precludes the uncritical acceptance encouraged by Theory anthologies.
And I just wanted to say that.
Because I don't want to be thought a Negative Nancy.
Even though that would be a fair description. (Well-deserved even.)