Musil was not at the panel on Narrative in/and Wittgenstein. If he
had been he probably would have been annoyed at a paper about whether
narrative was a something or a nothing, which basically just went over
the rather simplistic definitions of narrative in order to demonstrate
that there really is no science of narratology, or, maybe, that
definitions of narrative are hopelessly limited. But he might have been
interested in Wittgenstein's idea that no word or sentence can be
understood apart from its temporal or contextual association or "stage
setting"; in other words, everything is narrative to some extent, and
this narrative is constantly shifting depending upon relations,
contexts, associations. It was difficult to sit through the descriptions
of what a narrative is or is not thought to be, especially if one has
Musil's novel in mind, a novel that includes a chapter wherein we watch a
man thinking, or chapters of essayistic exploration wherein nothing
happens. But perhaps it is revealing to look at the common definitions
of narrative in order to see just how radical Musil's novelistic
experiment is. Some theorists, apparently, claim that a narrative, to be
a narrative, must have an event; for others, an event is not enough,
for them, there needs to be a conflict or complication to make a
narrative. I think here of the semi-ironic motto that recurs in the Man without Qualities:
Es muss etwas geschehen (something must happen) and of Musil's
confession of the difficulty he faced bringing his character to action
and the way in which this difficulty was the same as his difficulty with
narrating. This difficulty is, of course, as much philosophical and
ethical as it is aesthetic. But more to that some other time. A
narrative, according to many narratologists (this word reminds me of a
person one goes to see to have tonsils out), may be constituted by an
event caused by an agent, something responded to by a feeling or
reaction from a person (thus if a tree falls for no reason in the woods
and no one hears it, it is not a narrative), or by the creation of an
"emotional cadence," an "arousal and resolution of affect," and a
movement toward catharsis which is a sort of completing emotional
cadence. The question was raised by an audience member who excused
himself by saying he was on Eastern time as to whether or not we might
ask not: is x a narrative or not, but rather is x a good/bad narrative.
He wanted to argue that the example given by the speaker of a person
ironing for 500 pages would be an example of a bad narrative, but the
speaker insisted that such a narrative could, in fact, be a good
narrative, despite the lack of conflict, resolution, emotional cadence,
et cetera. Which left us with precisely...nothing.
One talk on
the panel, on Wittgenstein, Kafka, and Ethics, by Yi-Ping Ong, delivered
with humor, charm, and clarity, was very interesting to me, especially
in terms of what it suggested about the relationship between language,
aesthetics and ethics. The speaker compared Wittgenstein's "Lecture on
Ethics" with Kafka's short story, "Report to an Academy" (where an Ape
who has learned to speak addresses a crowd of curious humans on his
evolution to "civilization")/ Ong stressed Wittgenstein's resistance to
speak about the nature of ethics as a science, and suggested that
poetic language, in its ambiguities and narrative elusiveness is more
fitting to approach an understanding of what it means to be (become)
human. Ethics, which Wittgenstein asserted could be no science, was
chosen as the topic of his one hour lecture in lieu of a lecture on
logic, which, he told his listeners, could not be explained to
them in such a short time. The idea that ethics could, in contrast, be
dealt with in the space of an hour, is thought to be meant ironically by
Wittgenstein, if not as a hostile joke directed at his audience (whom,
he assumes, would prefer to hear a popular synopsis of a complex
scientific concept which would, he insultingly tells them, allow them to
think they understand something which a one-hour synopsis could in no
way impart). And this misconception of the audience is an ethical
problem, in fact, one which the very form and chosen subject of the talk
addresses. Thinking one understands something with ease, without time,
rumination, complexity is, we will remember, one of Musil's prime
definitions of true stupidity. The awareness of the difficulty of
trying to speak about something like ethics amounts to, according to
Wittgenstein, a "running against the bars of our own cages" (the cages
of our dependence on language, I suppose), but to try to do so is "a
document of a tendency of the human mind". Ong connected Wittgenstein's
comment with Primo Levi's comment on his book on Auschwitz, which Levi
called a "documentation for a quiet study of certain aspects of the
human mind," arguing that a document, in both these senses was a way to
induce ethical participation rather than to make evident or provide
fact. A document as lesson, instruction, in the form of a story or
narrative. In a letter to a friend following his "Lecture on Ethics,"
Wittgenstein wrote about why he spoke in the first person at its end,
saying that "here nothing can be established. I can only appear here as a
single person".
Ong then moved to Kafka's story where
we see an Ape addressing his public in a similar tone to Wittgenstein,
telling them that what they want to hear he cannot deliver to them (that
which must be spoken is unspeakable); warning them that their
expectations will probably be disappointed by his speech. The audience
expects to be entertained by a freak show, but instead, the Ape deftly
reverses the game by indirectly describing the violence, imprisonment
and despair that are necessary stages of becoming a human being. He
describes their (our) own lives and the beastliness inherent therein.
His ability to speak, he tells them, only began when in captivity;
consciousness, in other words, begins only in the cage. Language is a
form of running up against the bars of our cages. Our cages, not the cages or their cages, but our cages,
which suggests a basic complicity in cagedness, the complicity of the
cage of language. Since there is no audience present in the story, since
whatever audience there is, is, in effect, off-stage, the reader is
asked to reflect, respond, to see himself in the mirror of the caged
ape. This is an aesthetic experience which, ideally, induces ethical
participation.
It is clear that this sort of recognition could not have
occurred as powerfully if it had not been created through a form of
narrative or some other non-scientific, non-logical discourse. One of
the questioners stressed that Wittgenstein had repeatedly maintained that
ethics in particular could not be spoken of, and she asked Ong what it
was that the Ape in Kafka's story was not able to say. Ong
answered that the Ape can/cannot speak in the first person, and that,
indeed, ethics can only be in so far as it is avowed or acknowledged,
hence a nod to the participation inherent in the idea of documentation
discussed above. Does this mean that the audience has a responsibility
to somehow participate in the reading experience? I would add to this
that the pathic relation of reader and text is central to Modernist
poetics. The reader is meant to read deeply and to be changed, pained,
destroyed, burned by the words, written in blood. The book, as Kafka
noted, is to be an ice-pick to the frozen soul (or something like that).
A poetic text can do this in a way that a merely didactive or logical
text cannot. Another questioner noted that Wittgenstein did, in fact,
speak about ethics, in his Philosophical Investigations, which is, she said, a sort of narrative counterpart to the more philosophical Tractatus.
This makes me think of Kierkegaard and his multi-voiced, multi-genred
attempts to communicate ethical ideas. Ethics can be spoken of, this
suggests, but only through stories, through relationships, through
poetry. Or, perhaps, through the pairing of logic and poetry. For, as
someone else mentioned, Wittgenstein himself asked whether what he was
doing might not better be considered poetry than philosophy. I need not
say how all of this bears on Musil, who wanted, above all, to be a Dichter (creative writer).
Burton Pike teased me in a recent email, asking if Musil was really
"hiding under every rock". And, I admit, I have a problem. But this
perspectival problem makes sense, especially in a Musilian context,
since he stressed over and over that we mainly see what we already have a
conception of in our minds. How can I begin to see something else when
these ruts have been driven so deeply into my brain? "There is
hope,"Kafka wrote, "but not for us". This is probably why I took the
whole day off yesterday from the conference, ended up going dancing to
Balkan music and missed the 8:30 am panel on Kafka and the Holocaust.
"If that's all there is," as Peggy Lee sang, "then let's keep dancing.
Let's break out the booze, and have a ball. It that's all....there
is...". Another form of ethics...and aesthetics.
But there SHOULD be comments!
ReplyDeleteWhat a pleasure to find this !
Ah! And what a pleasure to be found! We send these little transmissions out into the world, and hope for a response, an echo, in attempts to find other human beings! Miraculously, as your blog is steeped in Thoreau, you found one of my few posts that doesn't mention Henry! I loved your post about Wittgenstein, metaphor, and Thoreau's dawns! I will add your blog to my blog list now. So long, other human being in the mists.
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