Let the Market Speak! Market, Dear Market, How Can We Help You? or We Hate Your Ears!

For reasons I recently mentioned elsewhere, I've had precious little time to develop original material for the blog of late.  Such are the spoils of success.  Eighty-six that.  Replace it with "Such are the 'spoils' of success."  Have to keep my priorities straight.

Vis-a-vis the conflagration on the aforementioned elsewhere: I entirely agree with Patrick's statement that he "can understand simultaneously being pleased at the mature level of conversation, while also being disappointed at the lack of bomb throwing."  Like Patrick, I think Pannapacker wanted to see a fair and professional fight, rule-governed but barely so.  People wanted, if not the act, then at least the threat that someone would finish the fight with a little less ear than he or she started it with.  In that respect, the event was disappointing.  The participants remained civil, the essays measured and careful. 

Both sides landed calculated blows, but only after dancing around the ring.  The audience wanted Tyson; we gave them de la Hoya.[1]  They felt we had the better whiskers and they groaned everytime we followed a hook with a two-step to the far corner.  They wanted ears.

"We hate your ears!" they yelled at the Norton they imagined on the ropes.

We politely declined to eat ears.  We landed a punch and retreated, determined to fight the fair fight.  I admit that the fight felt rigged; especially when, in its aftermath, every party claimed marginal status and maximal success.  Then it got ugly.  CR, with whom I've exchanged emails and whose opinion I respect, called Sean out for calling out the denizens of Long Sunday:

This move - to call “us” (Matt/Long Sunday/whomever) out - and then when we fail to answer your claims and queries, accuse us of arrogance (or perhaps incompetence masked by a feigned arrogance...) is bad faith.

Here's the thing though: Sean was initially offended—as was I, to be frank—by what seemed like Matt's flip dismissal of his argument.  It did seem as if Matt had brushed aside him by saying "I'd argue with you, but I have some really important pasta to boil."  As Matt later acknowledge, the thing about all this is he really did have to leave to cook dinner.  Now, through no fault of mine or Sean's, the amount of faith both sides have in the other's intellectual honesty is roughly equivalent to the faith that all sides have that there are WMDs in Iraq or that Karl Rove isn't a savvy political operative but a victim of a vast conspiracy orchestrated by the liberal media.[2]

But here's the strange thing: one of the few blogs I check every single days is The Weblog.  Why?  Because it contains intelligent and informative content—not to mention a regular and refreshing dose of hatred—and the posters don't assume anyone whose surname isn't "of Sorrow" argues in bad faith.  That's it.  The assumption that people will argue in good faith leads to, well, it leads to people arguing in good faith.  The alternative is that one group of extremely intelligent people violently jerk their knees every time a member of another group of extremely intelligent people declares that "Food is necessary!  It must be prepared!"

I will, however, respectfully decline to comment on the direction the debate's moved since then other than to acknowledge and mourn the sheer brilliance of Rich' s latest response.  I wish the lines of communication had not broken down in the way that they had, but Rich's characterization of what happens when no one allows anyone else the benefit of the doubt is about as accurate as accuracy gets. 

Lest I be mistaken, let me repeat: the blame falls equally on all parties involved.  Myself included.  And that bothers me.  Because despite my commitment to the "true" over the "interesting," I can't help but wonder whether I'm not bleeding the world dry.

[1]By "we" I mean all the contributors whose posts were civil and respectful, not the hive-mind of the Valve or the ALSC, to which Jonathan does not belong.

[2]Which on television sadly consists of John Stewart and, um, John Stewart.

Comments

[Matt]

Oh man, I do make a mean pasta. I'm sorry I called the whole Theory debate "numbingly circular," ok? But if that's the worst you guys got, one lame remark amidst a comment that really was otherwise arguing in good faith, then maybe there are other reasons for it, I dunno.

I've tried to nudge other, even more extremely intelligent people over, and more than once, but some of them simply say they have no choice but to limit the amount of time they spend reading and responding to blogs. Anyway I'm flattered that you think my word on anything is so important. The Valve is a particularly hyper-active space, so being away for a night and a day, for reasons beyond one's control, can indeed risk being read as extreme negligence or disrespect. Would it have been better if I'd simply disappeared? The preference not to respond being of course protected by the first amendment to the blogstitution. And when was the last time you commented on Long Sunday? We're missing you.

[laura]

Hey Scott,
I'm not a member of the ASLC either
are you???

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Laura, I'm not. Like Jonathan, I have my reservations.

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Matt, the Valve's certainly better with all sides talking instead of cooking pasta. In fact, in my evolving argumentative lexicon, "cooking pasta" now means "You exasperate me. I won't deign to debate you blockheads anymore." If nothing else can come of this misunderstanding, at the very least it can become father to a pride of new phrases.

[Mike S]

Hi, Scott. Once again, I bring to you a post that is entirely unrelated to this thread's topic, as you've probably come to expect from me, but here goes anyway: It's a shame that your attempts to initiate a "day in the life" thread on the Valve have been met with an icy reception. I suspect, perhaps cynically, that those who questioned the merit/usefullness of your cat example may suffer from a delusional and inflated sense of self-importance, which is to say that their sneering seems to me to reflect a sort of holier than thou, snobbish pretense that I trust (or hope) you similarly regard. I agree with you that there is something to be gained from academics discussing their daily routines. And it surprises me that there is a reluctance or an unwillingness or an apathy, amongst the Valvers, in exploring this topic. Perhaps it is an issue of privacy. Perhaps there are some who guard their habits (however idiosyncratic or disgusting or humiliating they may be) with a sort of preternatural shyness, lest they appear to us as anything other than a sober-faced, stoic, dilligent professional. This may sound exaggerated, but trust me, I've known plenty who affect a *scholarly pose* in the presence of their peers and who bristle at small talk. Odd breed, those grad students.

That off my chest, more questions: Have you read much of David Foster Wallace? I know he falls well beyond your current scholarly interests, but I noticed Oblivion on your "Currently Reading" list. Have you read his long essay on T.V. and American fiction? If you've read him at all, I'd love to hear your thoughts on Wallace's oeuvre.

[Matt]

Ok Scott, I've revisited the thread you accuse me of so rudely neglecting, which for those concerned may be found here:

http://www.thevalve.org/go/valve/article/a_respose_to_the_deconstructive_angel/

and I must confess to being non-plussed by your amusement at my expense. If I've somehow offended you personally, I certainly do apologize (sincerely).

However Adam was the author of that post, and he didn't seem to have a problem with my comments. I certainly stand by what I said there. In retrospect it may have been unfortunate that the tentative nature of the disagreement I was raising (or rather *seconding*) was so overshadowed by my snark, a bit of graffiti on the walls that seems now to have echoed louder and been used as something of a venting target in a later thread, albeit one that might be reasonably taken as a rather direct, if somewhat belated call for knives.

http://www.adamkotsko.com/weblog/deconstructo.jpg

?

David Foster Wallace is truly sometimes great, though _Oblivion_ was a bit of a disappointment. _A Supposedly Fun Thing_ and _Brief Interviews_ (and parts of _The Girl with Curious Hair_) are much, much better, in my most humble opinion (and I trust you'll forgive me if I don't lurk around here for days defending it).

Regards.

[Rich Puchalsky]

I remember the "cooking dinner" thread, I think. What stayed with me from that one was Matt's insistance that Adam should not quote Derrida, because doing so would cause people to reflexively scorn him. I attempted to test this by finding some random Derrida text, quoting it, and seeing whether a horde of jackals appeared, but, sadly, no.

Matt, the problem is not one lame remark, or that you didn't answer fast enough. The problem occurs when you write such odd apparent psychological models of others that the only appropriate response is a kind of performative gesture. Yes, in addition to the uncontrollable reaction to Derrida quotes, I'm also talking about the jealous fury at The Norton Anthology of Literature and Criticism.

Sorry to plod over the same ground that my doggerel covered more amusingly. But some people (not necessarily you, Matt) apparently understood a lot less than I would have expected. I'm glad that you thought the last response was sheer brilliance, Scott, but really, certain satires become all too easy to write.

[Matt]

[whoops]...if I don't lurk around for days to defend it.)

Regards.

[Matt]

ok, but the jealous fury comment was a bit tongue-in-cheek now, surely.

[Rich Puchalsky]

The jealous fury bit was tongue-in-cheek, but it was also the core of your argument -- that people were motivated by some strange, unthinking reactivity to a symbol, and weren't engaged with the actuality. "We don't have to get up in arms to defend The Norton" sounds a lot better than "We don't have to defend our scholarly practices" because it trivializes everything and appears to be less hegemonic. Michael Berube made a stripped-down version of the same argument, but he didn't toss in the rhetorical kitchen sink that made it so unarguable.

In general, the "I was only kidding" bit is overused as a get out of jail free card. There is almost always a serious assertion beneath. For instance, my satire of CR as Horowitz agent is supposed to be funny, and as Scott says to be a larger comment on what happens when people don't give each other the benefit of the doubt, but I also do think that CR really almost might as well be a Horowitz agent, if you look at the effects of what he does instead of his intentions. (Of course, I don't mean this to describe CR the person, if there is one, only CR the pseudonymous writer of blog texts.)

[Matt]

I beg your pardon, but *my* "scholarly practices"? Have you read any of those comments at all? Nobody wishes to defend bad theory, but that's the lump we're in if we rise to the bait of this book, it seems to me. Simple enough, really.

Which is not, as I remember Michael was quite careful to point out, to condemn tout court *all* of the more or less specific arguments, the more or less hospitable engagements with texts and thinkers therein. In fact "we" addressed several of these directly, on their own terms. But we all agreed it was a mixed bag.

The presentation aspect, however, the larger concept and premise, the introduction, and the sweeping dismissals, particularly when one is using the book as a springboard into a zero-tolerance policy on "squatters"(!) and in the face of a cultural reality and climate of already prevalent anti-theory sentiment (one where most departments in fact may have a token "theory" person or two but generally no more, if even that!)...is quite another thing, and in my view irresponsible.

Does that make any sense to you? We disagree about the diagnosis, and about the places to go with it especially. I hope that is clear.

[Matt]

"We don't have to get up in arms to defend The Norton" sounds a lot better than "We don't have to defend our scholarly practices" because it trivializes everything and appears to be less hegemonic."

Do you see the false step you're taking here?

In the words of a wise man who once said, "This, this right here..."

Have you guys all bought the Theory's Empire line and talking points so completely and so stubbornly? I'm saying I'm not convinced.

Do you deny that Theory's Empire is responding first and foremost to The Norton? Whether or not it goes beyond this is of course still open for debate. But the premise is important. "We" are not on trial here; The Norton, and a certain academic culture (or rather the very, very worst excesses of a certain academic culture, a culture already I think some would argue fairly marginalized) is on trial.

To which some people respond: "Forgive us if we have better things to do."

To which you respond: "That's not an argument!" "Here's a poem making fun of you, to show I am in good faith."

Just pointing it out.

[Matt]

(sorry, truncated. I didn't mean to be so glib. This may strike you as glib nonetheless, but I'll try to remember what I said.)

In short, do you deny that the Theory's Empire book is responding first and foremost to The Norton? Whether it goes beyond this or not is still up for debate, I supppose. But the premise is important. "We" are not on trial here. A certain academic "taste" culture (or rather the very, very worst excesses of a certain academic culture, one that is by most standards of measure already quite marginal at best) is on trial.

And some people respond to this enormous, elaborate trial by saying, if anything: "Forgive me if I have better things to do."

To which you respond: "That's not an argument! In fact it proves our point. But first here's a poem making fun of you to show I'm in good faith."

I mean, I laughed at the poem, yes, but not for all that long, really.

[Matt]

Not my day for technology, obviously. I hope the above is relatively clear, and most of all I'd love to hear some kind of introspection from anyone within the analytic or anti-Theory camp about the reality and consequences of who dominates the university scene, etc.

[Matt]

"In general, the "I was only kidding" bit is overused as a get out of jail free card. There is almost always a serious assertion beneath."

Point well-taken, though the measure of one's response is something to be considered in relation to its object as well in certain situations, no? If you're curious, I actually don't think the chesnut of irony is so easily cracked, but anyway Scott however do you get these comments to truncate themselves and then reappear? 'tis a wonderful bit of magic, that.

[Rich Puchalsky]

Matt, I'm having real difficulty integrating five overlapping responses. I'll give it my best shot.

"In short, do you deny that the Theory's Empire book is responding first and foremost to The Norton?" Yes, I do, and in addition I think that the question is unimportant. The Theory's Empire book is an anthology of essays, most written previously, about a range of subjects. Those essays are about their individual subjects. You can create an interpretation in which the editors of Theory's Empire were fascinated by The Norton in some way (rather than, as I suggested, using this other anthology as a convenient organizing device) but that doesn't say anything about the actual content of Theory's Empire, any more than an essay by Derrida is affected by being anthologized in The Norton.

If you really must consider the Theory's Empire book as an overall entity, then it is clearly responding to the constellation of ideas and methods that some call [Tt]heory. (You yourself seem to admit of the existence of this grouping when you refer to prevailing anti-theory sentiment.) However, The Norton does not define [Tt]heory except as a matter of convenience. You are taking an anthology, insisting that it is an important symbol, and then insisting that the symbol can stand for the reality. Even if one of the editors of Theory's Empire wrote something that seems to agree with you on this point, that does not make it so.

Lastly, about the dismissive "a certain academic taste culture". I don't think that you're being very respectful of the work of literary studies, to dismiss theory in these terms. Like it or not, this constellation of ideas and methods is the foremost means of understanding and analyzing literary texts at this time. As such, of course people are going to attack it. In physics, people attack string theory, even if there are relatively few physicists who specialize in it, because of its position in the field as a whole athwart a promising avenue of advance. That's what people in academia do to prominent theories: they attack them.

Lastly, you're still psychologizing wildly. An enormous, elaborate trial? Is that supposed to be the blog event, or the anthology?

[Matt]

Thank you Rich. You know the more I think about it the more I suspect that this whole Theory/theory distinction needs either drastic revision or to be abandoned altogether. I may try to say more about that at some point, in addition to what's already been said. But for now I would just put out there a simple thought experiment.

Imagine if the entity [T]heory (as an allegedly increasingly calcified, dogmatic, jargon-laden, insular, gate-keeping "taste culture" within academia, immune to logical argument and insensitive to or incapable of genuine self-criticism)....if such an entity would change at all if it was referred to instead as "postmodern theory."

I suspect it would complicate things, because then the anti-Theory position (granted, as far as I even understand it) would be deprived of much of its seductive and popular appeal, if only because "postmodernism" is itself the favorite target of such academic celebrity "theorists" as Terry Eagleton and Slavoj Zizek (albeit with varrying degrees of subtlety). Do you see my point? Isn't "postmodernism" just as good a label for the target of this "anthology of dissent"?

Just a thought.

"Lastly, about the dismissive "a certain academic taste culture". I don't think that you're being very respectful of the work of literary studies, to dismiss theory in these terms."

I think you've misunderstood the way I was using this phrase. My inference was that the Theory's Empire book was treating its chosen target ("[T]heory") as something like (and little more than) "an academic taste culture.

"That's what people in academia do to prominent theories: they attack them."

I find this comment interesting, for different reasons. It strikes me as going to the heart of the analytic beef with certain philosophers (not with Theory--but you see how easily the lines get blurred), namely Heidegger and Derrida, in that they refuse to play the game by the same rules as analytics do. Almost that they're playing tennis on the chessboard. This I think may well be infuriating (the tennis analogy is really not quite good enough, David Foster Wallace notwithstanding--can anyone think of a better one?)

But this isn't even an attack on *a* prominent theory here; this is an attack on *all* of Theory (again, as opposed to some non-Theory entity yet to be articulated very well, one can only assume)--something that would seem a little different.

[Matt]

I posted this comment twice and it still gets cut off half-way through. Ah well.

[Adam Kotsko]

I'm sorry to say that I didn't read this post because I was going through a phase where I was trying to stay out of the Theory Debate of the Century -- but thank you very much for your kind remarks on the quality of conversation at The Weblog.