Einherjar86
Active Member
That is one of critical theory’s axioms. All theoretical frameworks have axioms on which their entire practice rests.
"Social considerations" sounds like a much broader category than politics, so I'm not sure my objections apply there, but they may still. I mean, a lot of art conveys deeply private or mystical experiences that simply cannot be put into words, even if its cultural impact can be put into words. How does critical theory address the limits of language itself, and hence the impossibility of grasping the aesthetic essence of many artworks through analysis?To be brief, I would say that aesthetic efforts absent any political or social considerations whatsoever don't qualify as art. Art connotes something more than mastery of craft/technique. Someone can paint an immaculate landscape piece that looks like a photograph, but that technical proficiency alone doesn't make it art.
That being said, I don't think there's any such thing as a piece of aesthetic craft that you can't historicize (i.e. read culturally/politically). That doesn't mean that artists are inhibited by culture or politics. In fact, I'd say that those works we look back on as foundational pieces of art usually push against and exceed what are often seen as the limits of their craft. There was a time when painting a near-photographic rendering of the landscape was really something special. Today, not so much. It might look pretty, but it's not doing anything interesting.
Sure, which is why diversity of critique is important. Critical theory in and of itself is not a problem, but the increasing popularity of its application is a concern to some degree going forward. A framework which reduces all questions to a small set of explanations with an infinite ability to co-opt anything and everything into its worldview for this purpose is eventually redundant. If God explains everything, God explains nothing.
"Social considerations" sounds like a much broader category than politics, so I'm not sure my objections apply there, but they may still. I mean, a lot of art conveys deeply private or mystical experiences that simply cannot be put into words, even if its cultural impact can be put into words. How does critical theory address the limits of language itself, and hence the impossibility of grasping the aesthetic essence of many artworks through analysis?
I appreciate your knowledge on this, and your ability to lay out the intersections where these questions come up in the various threads of philosophical discourse. I can imagine how long it might take to educate myself on these sources and develop the vocabulary needed to speak more coherently on the subject, but I'll take a stab in the meantime.I love these questions because they're calling to mind a lot of shit, haha.
First, I would point here to Wittgenstein's critique of the notion of private language--i.e. that it makes no sense to imagine a kind of "deeply private" experience that isn't translatable in some way to the social. Granted, all biological organisms have experience of some kind; but we're talking about people, and people's internal experiences are inseparable from their acquisition of social language. It's no coincidence that we begin forming coherent and lasting memories around the same time we begin acquiring language. Artists may have deeply personal/private experiences that they express in art; but those experiences are always already going to be tied to some kind of consciousness toward the social world. The very premise of expressibility implies communication. Aesthetics isn't the same as language, but we can understand and appreciate aesthetics by thinking about them linguistically. Barring the entry of the supernatural, even the most private experience is communicable in some fashion.
Now, complicating this a little--critical theory (and I'm using the term somewhat loosely) is very interested in the unspeakable. In psychoanalysis, it's the kernel of a dream, which no amount of analysis will ever fully unravel. In Foucauldian epistemes, it's what he calls the "unthought," or dark obverse of knowledge. In deconstruction, it's the guiding concept of différance, in which language always marks a departure from perfect meaning (i.e. a one-to-one correspondence between word and thing). It's debatable whether all these fall under the umbrella of "critical theory."
Critical theory isn't usually interested in the unspeakable as such, however, but in its relation to the speakable. In itself, the unspeakable has nothing to say (no pun intended); but it can tell us something about what we can say and think.
Finally, let's entertain the possibility that something truly unknowable is expressible. How would such a phenomenon be relevant to any kind of aesthetic study? In order to appreciate something aesthetically, we have to consider it in relation to other works; so already it's in conversation with tradition and practice. If it isn't, then appreciation becomes entirely subjective, which is emphatically not education. Anyone can find something pleasing, beautiful, impressive, etc.; but aesthetic appreciation only derives from situating art in a field of other works.
So in short, I don't really see how we can even approach a work of art aesthetically without also considering its communicative elements--or else all we're left with is "that's pretty." Great--but so what? For personal purposes, sure prettiness is fine. But it's not the point of aesthetic education.
There exists in every language a rough and ready vocabulary for the expression and communication of the individual's more private experiences. Anyone capable of speech can say, "I'm frightened," or "How pretty!" and those who hear the words will have a crude but, for most practical purposes, a sufficiently vivid idea of what is being talked about. ... In good literature--good, that is to say, on the private level--the blunt imprecisions of conventional language give place to subtler and more penetrating forms of expression. The ambition of the literary artist is to speak about the ineffable, to communicate in words what words were never intended to convey.
Regarding the idea that "it makes no sense to imagine a kind of deeply private experience that isn't translatable in some way to the social," that strikes me as a lazy assertion that avoids an honest admission of the utter weirdness of conscious experience, and if my half-assed knowledge of the history of philosophy serves me, I believe one of phenomenology's notable achievements was to show that there's more to conscious experience than the "dead end" view Wittgenstein proposed.
There's a kind of argument from ignorance in the claim that "there's nothing to say" about deeply private experience, as if our primitive monkey brains are somehow perfectly equipped to describe reality as we perceive it. I mean, have you ever seen a review of progressive / avant-garde music that did anything but utterly fail to capture the essence of the listening experience, or a trip report that served as an adequate substitute for being on a psychedelic drug? What about the evidence of the limits of the mind Peter Watts lays out in that lecture "Reality: The Ultimate Mythology"?
It seems quite obvious to me not only that the breadth of conscious experience far exceeds the capacity of language, but that the inexpressible part of conscious experience has a profound impact on our lives. That's pretty damn relevant to me, and reason enough for a broader definition of relevance than "that which meets the criteria for academic study."
There's a passage from Aldous Huxley's "Literature and Science" that characterizes the relationship between language and private experience in a way I think does the latter justice:
Getting back to the conflict I alleged earlier between critical theory and creativity, I want to mention that although a level of (amateur) academic study has always been an important part of my creative life, I've grown to recognize that academic study isn't just a process of knowledge acquisition: it's also a process of perspective-shaping. There are times in my life that call for a degree of naive commitment to a certain perspective (i.e. that aesthetics and politics are separable), regardless of how sound the objections are, as long as I do it in a self-aware and undogmatic way. By committing to a perspective, I program my mind into a particular process or "track" that allows a kind of idea-generation unique to that perspective. Given my experience with that, I wonder how much awareness there is within academia of the possibility of losing the ability to see from a perspective after dissecting it under the critical lens.
1. if there is something to say about a deeply personal experience, then it doesn't exceed language. Maybe you can talk around the experience, but this raises the question of where exactly the boundary between language and experience lies. This is a debate that still goes on in neuroscientific and cognitive philosophy circles, and I don't think anyone has provided a suitable answer. I tend to fall toward the end of the spectrum that thinks all experience is, although maybe extra-linguistic on some deep level, almost immediately absorbed into what Jacques Lacan called the "symbolic" as soon as we have the experience. In other words, we're so fundamentally conditioned into language as soon as we're born that, by the time we can form memories and reflect on our experiences, the line between them and language is so fine as to be virtually nonexistent.
Language absolutely mediates the experience, or therapy wouldn't be a thing. However, it's a fundamental error to assume any map ever fully represents the territory in accurate fashion, and this error is widespread in and out of academia. Deep learning is continuously acquiring and mutilating maps as they fail to accurately represent the territory. Most people just go through life with only a couple of maps which they generate functional epicycles for to explain deficiencies.
I agree 100% that map =/= territory. But this incongruence also invites the counterintuitive realization that the map precedes the territory. There's a feedback loop between map and territory such that as soon as we start mapping, we change the territory.
An explicit example of this would be European exploration of the Americas. During this process of mapping and knowledge acquisition, Europeans didn't passively observe and chart the land. They also actively altered it, so that the maps they drew were of a territory that didn't preexist their arrival. It was a map of their arrival. The mapping manufactured the territory, basically.
I think we have to admit that something similar occurs between language and cognition, too. We may have some kind of obscure, pre-linguistic mental experiences; but the influence of linguistic cognition ineluctably changes those experiences. As soon as we enter into language, we're no longer describing or expressing pre- or extra-linguistic experiences. Our linguistic mediation is part of the experience (or if it isn't, the distinction between the two is so fine and granular as to be virtually inconsequential).
You may be right about phenomenology, it's not a methodology I'm well-versed in. Here I'm also betraying some of my analytical preferences, as I generally subscribe to anti-phenomenological views, like those of Jacques Derrida. I wouldn't call Wittgenstein an anti-phenomenologist per se, but I do think his emphasis on language signals a turning away from phenomenological interests. But his later writings were very interested in psychology and philosophy of mind, so there's probably some overlap.
I also may have done a poor job of conveying Wittgenstein's ideas. His isn't a dead-end view, as he doesn't think that language ever really fails. In fact, his interest in language is that it continues to work despite being imperfect. His Philosophical Investigations are really quite something to read, unlike any other philosophical text I've ever read. He argument is also specifically that of private language--not experience as a whole. I may have conflated the two. But what he would say, I think, is that if individual people do have deeply intimate personal experiences that exceed the possibilities of language, then these experiences can't really matter for anyone except the person who has them. If our institutions of social meaning can't get a handle on these intimate, "mystical" experiences, then there's no way to convey them. A piece of art (which Wittgenstein doesn't really write about) might be inspired by an artist's deeply personal experience, but that experience won't be a part of the work's social meaning.
1. if there is something to say about a deeply personal experience, then it doesn't exceed language. Maybe you can talk around the experience, but this raises the question of where exactly the boundary between language and experience lies. This is a debate that still goes on in neuroscientific and cognitive philosophy circles, and I don't think anyone has provided a suitable answer. I tend to fall toward the end of the spectrum that thinks all experience is, although maybe extra-linguistic on some deep level, almost immediately absorbed into what Jacques Lacan called the "symbolic" as soon as we have the experience. In other words, we're so fundamentally conditioned into language as soon as we're born that, by the time we can form memories and reflect on our experiences, the line between them and language is so fine as to be virtually nonexistent.
2. I have seen reviews that fail to capture the music, but then I also usually think that I have the language to more accurately describe them. I'm also probably over-confident in my writing abilities.
Yep, language has a weirdness all its own. I recently heard a point similar to yours in an episode of the Weird Studies podcast discussing whether performed music ever really conveys the original idea in the songwriter's head, since the idea must pass through the medium of instruments. Like an instrument, language has its own "voice" which sometimes generates original content that was neither intended nor even conceived of by the speaker.I agree completely that the inexpressible has an impact on our lives; I guess I'm just skeptical of how separate these things are (I say more about this in my reply to Dak below)
I'm fully on board with Huxley's notion of literature as a way to work through non-linguistic experience. But this also introduces the weirdness of language itself. It might be true that conscious experience is weird, but language is also weird! And experiments in language can be great for working through private experience; but then, isn't language expressing something about that experience? When I read James Joyce or William Faulkner, I certainly don't think to myself "this is how people talk." But there's still a linguistic/textual element to the expressionistic impulse. There's something experimental and strange going on with language in these kinds of writings, and they're framing private experience in a particular way. I'm not sure how to draw the line between extra-linguistic experience and the linguistic framing of experience. I'd venture that artistic expression is as much a construction of experience as it is a re-presentation of it.
Cool, I'll have to check out Philosophical Investigations - I'm way ignorant about Wittgenstein. On the subject of Derrida, I made a half-assed effort at reading Speech and Phenomena a year ago (with an accompanying explanatory book in plain English), something I need to get back to.
I can also imagine a possible future where language goes much further in "catching up" with private experience, and honestly I hope that doesn't happen, for the same reason you mention about the act of mapping "rewriting" the landscape. I worry about what we might lose (or have already lost) in the ongoing territorialization of experience by language. Even if there are always linguistic "hooks" in our experiences the moment we have them, they're not always well-refined ones. Sometimes it takes a great philosopher to refine language enough to move it deeper into the uncharted territory. It might be nice to just persist in a state of confused inability to coherently describe our experiences, rather than actively using our intellectual firepower to dispel the magic of the un(der)known. Lovecraft feared that insanity would result from the mind "correlating all its contents" - I fear that we'll become too sane!
Yep, language has a weirdness all its own. I recently heard a point similar to yours in an episode of the Weird Studies podcast discussing whether performed music ever really conveys the original idea in the songwriter's head, since the idea must pass through the medium of instruments. Like an instrument, language has its own "voice" which sometimes generates original content that was neither intended nor even conceived of by the speaker.
Well there are different maps (to press the metaphor), and they change variably. Maps that precede the territory are plans for action. Their accuracy depends on earlier map accuracy and ability to implement the plan as planned (all rare). The map manufactures nothing though. It's a blueprint.
Well there are things that we experience which "can't be put into words". Words are an attempt to share experience by some approximation and do mediate the experience through shared linguistic mechanisms (hence no private language). But when we think about "intersectionality" of linguistic mechanisms at the individual level and the degree to which they mediate each experience, also perceptually altered by any other number of biological/developmental/relational/etc factors, each experience is intensely private.
Edit: To be clear, I reject the rejection of distinction based on the ever present vague or continuous spectrum gradient of states of phenomenology.
Ah, the good old days.
I'm using manufacture in a slightly metaphorical sense, but I don't agree with you that blueprints/maps have no productive capacity. They shape thought and perception, and condition the way people internalize a territory. In that sense, they participate in the actual physical alteration of a world.
In a strictly bio-physiological sense, all unspoken experiences are private, since we can't read each other's minds. But the point of something like Wittgenstein's private language argument is that we still conceive of our internal experiences as sharable/translatable. It makes to sense to think of them as happening in a language that's all our own.
Sorry, I don't follow your final sentence.
As far as my last sentence, I'm referring to the tendency of yourself or others to claim the lack of a clear point of demarcation means there's no differences whatsoever, or at least no important distinctions to be made or capable of being made.
EG: No clear point of demarcation therefore this picture is one solid color.
I would say, there is no interior experience so immediate and fundamental as to escape being altered by language ("Am I sick?" "Am I said?" "Do I have an ulcer?" "I love you so much it hurts." "I'm confused." "This is weird.").
Dr Seuss was a fellow traveler of FDR's American-Bolshevik retinue who played a role in the Brown Scare as warmonger propagandist, and I fully welcome his cancellation. That boomer Republicans defend his filth while oblivious to much more significant goings-on is all the more evidence that the so-called American Right needs to be censored and persecuted themselves to understand what the future holds.