This article discusses the discourses of disability through a parallel `disabling' of its own text. It draws on literary as well as sociological sources in order to interrogate the nature and relations of the `tragic', the `heroic' and the `comic'. The authors offer the conclusion that the comic is never quite absent from the discourse of tragedy (after Kundera), and turn that insight back on their own text, in an attempt to refuse the solemnities and closures of their own (...) narrative. (shrink)

Comics can be ordered in a range of ways, most overtly by issue number for works within a series, and by page number for pages within works. The internal elements of a comic can also be ordered by formal details found within pages. We identify four kinds of formal details specific to comics pages or two-page spreads: how their elements are arranged, how they are viewed, what events they represent, and when information about those events is presented.

Visual narratives like comics involve a range of complex cognitive operations in order to be understood. The Parallel Interfacing Narrative‐Semantics (PINS) Model integrates an emerging literature showing that comprehension of wordless image sequences balances two representational levels of semantic and narrative structure. The neurocognitive mechanisms that guide these processes are argued to overlap with other domains, such as language and music.

This essay draws on two emerging fields—the study of comics or graphic fiction, and disability studies—to demonstrate how graphic fictions articulate the embodied, ethical, and sociopolitical experiences of impairment and disability. Examining David B’s Epileptic and Paul Karasik and Judy Karasik’s The Ride Together, I argue that these graphic novels unsettle conventional notions of normalcy and disability. In so doing, they also challenge our assumed dimensions and possibilities of the comics genre and medium, demonstrating the great potential comics hold for (...) disability studies. (shrink)

The 9/11 attacks in the USA had profound political consequences at both domestic and international levels. Specific and controversial policy developments were pursued requiring substantial legitimation to find acceptance. A prime example was the USA PATRIOT Act, which was passed in the immediate aftermath of 9/11 and subsequently received considerable critique due to the sweeping nature of its redefinition of what was acceptable in the cause of ‘fighting terror’. The media, and their construal of events and policies, played a significant (...) role in the necessary process of legitimation. In this paper, we explore how one particular area of the media, the superhero comic book, was also active in this regard. By focusing specifically on the multimodal meaning construction within Marvel's Civil War comics series, we suggest how a close multimodal discourse analysis can shed further light on the mechanisms by which particular discourse contexts of public opinion are propagated. (shrink)

Cohn's (2013) theory of “Visual Narrative Grammar” argues that sequential images take on categorical roles in a narrative structure, which organizes them into hierarchic constituents analogous to the organization of syntactic categories in sentences. This theory proposes that narrative categories, like syntactic categories, can be identified through diagnostic tests that reveal tendencies for their distribution throughout a sequence. This paper describes four experiments testing these diagnostics to provide support for the validity of these narrative categories. In Experiment 1, participants reconstructed (...) unordered panels of a comic strip into an order that makes sense. Experiment 2 measured viewing times to panels in sequences where the order of panels was reversed. In Experiment 3, participants again reconstructed strips but also deleted a panel from the sequence. Finally, in Experiment 4 participants identified where a panel had been deleted from a comic strip and rated that strip's coherence. Overall, categories had consistent distributional tendencies within experiments and complementary tendencies across experiments. These results point toward an interaction between categorical roles and a global narrative structure. (shrink)

This study makes a case for the conversational phenomenon the authors have named the comical hypothetical. The CH becomes discursively co-created during ongoing conversation when one or more speakers depart from the normal turn-taking system and engage in the interactional creation of an imaginary world. Data stem from ethnographic observations as well as from spontaneous recordings of social situations in three different locations. Out of 20 hours of taped conversations, 10 recognizable CH segments were analyzed for the present study. (...) The authors present a macro-structure analysis of the comical hypothetical using Hymes's SPEAKING mnemonic, with an emphasis on the act sequence. A second-level micro-analysis uncovers the interactional properties of the CH using a conversation analytic approach. The examination reveals a distinct four-part act sequence of the CH made up of intricate and creative interactional turns. Lastly, the significance and functions of the CH are also discussed. (shrink)

From Wodehouse to the White House: A Corpus-Assisted Study of Play, Fantasy and Dramatic Incongruity in Comic Writing and Laughter-Talk In this paper I consider two discourse types, one written and literary, the other spoken and semi-conversational, in an attempt to discover if there are any similarities in the ways in which humour is generated in such apparently diverse forms of communication. The first part of the paper is concerned with the explicitly comic prose of P. G. Wodehouse, whilst (...) in the second part of the paper, we investigate the laughter-talk, defined as the talk preceding and provoking, intentionally or otherwise, an episode of laughter, occurring during press briefings held at the White House during the Clinton era and the subsequent Bush administration. Both studies, by employing corpus analysis techniques together with detailed discourse reading, integrate quantitative and qualitative approaches to the respective data sets. (shrink)

From US Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis’s 1933 judgement in Louis K Liggett Co v Lee to Matt Wuerker’s satirical cartoon “Corpenstein”, the use of Frankenstein’s monster as a metaphor for the modern corporation has been a common practice. This paper seeks to unpack and extend explicitly this metaphorical register via a recent filmic and graphic interpretation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein myth. Whilst Frankenstein has been read as an allegorical critique of rights—Victor Frankenstein’s creation of a monstrous body, reflecting the (...) figurative construction of a body by rights discourse—the metaphoric notion of reanimating a ‘soulless corpse’ resonates with Edward’s Thurlow’s description of the corporation as having ‘no soul to damn’. By exploring the figurative and optical representations of this process of reanimating the body in Scott Beattie’s film I, Frankenstein and Kevin Grevioux’s companion graphic novel I, Frankenstein: Genesis, I would like to extend this metaphoric register, by examining the theological origin and nature of the corporate form. This theology is explicitly referenced in the film and graphic novel via the battle between Gargoyles and Demons, which dominates the plot and backstory. The role of Frankenstein’s monster—now called Adam—however, is about enabling the reanimation of thousands of corpses without souls for possession by the demon hoard headed by Prince Naberius, who in his alternative persona Charles Wessex, controls the Wessex Institute and Wessex Industries. This ‘corporate baron’ himself has devoted his ‘life’ to enabling the rediscovery of Frankenstein’s ability to reanimate the dead for the purposes of gaining immortality. This mythic framing, however, renders explicitly visible the nature and purpose of the corporate form itself—of capturing and reanimating life in a form of immortality via the mechanisms of perpetual succession. This visual rendering, of a metaphoric framing goes to show the way in which the optical nature of the dominant forms of popular culture—film, television, comic books—provide a means for seeing law’s metaphorical images and for thus unpacking, interrogating and rendering them anew. It argues for a shift from the image of the corporation as a monstrous body to one which involves relations of reciprocity, gratuitousness and gift. (shrink)

Graphic justice and the law of aesthetics have in very recent years successfully brought law, aesthetics and comics scholarship into the same space. The culture of copyright infringement within comics (including in the Marvel, DC, and Disney universes) has been extensively in the literature by scholars including Saval. How copyright law is portrayed within the graphic novels and comics themselves is the focus (and contribution of) this article. This article will explore several comics and graphic novels, as well as included (...) this author’s reflections of portraying copyright visually within zines for public dissemination. Throughout this article, the discourses of ghosts and spectres that are interwoven with copyright law and haunt the texts will be seen, as will the discourses of oppression and warfare that are involved for anyone seeking to make use of copyright works. As Gómez Romero and Dahlman note, comics offer “an alternative legal discourse” and we can see these alternative legal discourses through their aesthetic graphic form. This article will consider: the aesthetic portrayal of copyright law in A Gift for a Ghost and Josie and the Pussycats No. 6; as well as Bound by Law, Theft! A History of Music, and Pictures within Pictures. These comics and graphic novels have been chosen as they aesthetically portray copyright law and copyright infringement (referred to in some of the comics as “plagiarism”), and others aesthetically portray the public domain and fair use. In viewing these aesthetic manifestation of copyright law, the reader understands the limiting nature of copyright on creative freedoms, and that copyright law’s power is absolute. This article will explore the following: (i) copyright’s aesthetic portrayals and the impact of this; (ii) comics haunted by copyright law, considering A Gift for A Ghost and Josie and the Pussycats; (iii) comics about the necessity of the public domain and fair use, considering Bound by Law, Theft! A History of Music, and Pictures within Pictures; and (iv) self-reflections on portraying copyright aesthetically in publicly disseminated research zines. This article has not set out to determine that certain visual aesthetic portrayals are “correct” or “better”, but rather to explore how legal discourses and narratives about copyright law are circulated through the comics medium. These visual depictions hold considerable weight, and it is striking to see similar narratives used across a range of comics works, with different intended audiences. What is clear is that the visual depiction of copyright law enables a greater ability to convey the multiple copyright law discourses that can be felt at once, and also to highlight that some of these discourses are contradictory to one another. (shrink)

When the world as we know it crumbles to pieces, who does the future belong to? For the survivalist subculture, the answer is typically quite clear—the future belongs to the properly prepared, self-sufficient and autonomous men, who will outlive the majority of humankind in the upcoming global pandemonium. Once considered a fringe movement, survivalist ideas, imagery, and discourse now permeate Anglo-American popular culture and have increasingly made their way into other cultural regions as well. In recent years, there have (...) been numerous doomsday reality programs and shows about extreme survival trials on television. In their unique ways, programs such as Doomsday Preppers, Man vs. Wild, and Survivor have all... (shrink)

Like lynching and other mass hysterias, xenophobia exemplifies a contagious, collective wave of energy and hedonic quality that can point toward a troubling unpredictability at the core of political and social systems. While earlier studies of mass hysteria and popular discourse assume that cooler heads (aka rational individuals with their logic) could and should regain control over those emotions that are deemed irrational, and that boundaries are assumed healthy only when intact, affect studies pose individuals as nodes of biosocial (...) networks larger than themselves. Thus rather than suggesting that the individual can only prevent societal harm by gaining command and patrolling the borders of an autonomous self, we embrace the notion that affects can exert a positive and transformative force on a social reality that is resistant to top-down policy intervention and any straightforward moral or logical plea. (shrink)

Rewiev of Amir, L. (2014). Humor and the Good Life in Modern Philosophy: Shaftesbury, Hamann, Kierkegaard. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Narratives are an integral part of human expression. In the graphic form, they range from cave paintings to Egyptian hieroglyphics, from the Bayeux Tapestry to modern day comic books (Kunzle, 1973; McCloud, 1993). Yet not much research has addressed the structure and comprehension of narrative images, for example, how do people create meaning out of sequential images? This piece helps fill the gap by presenting a theory of Narrative Grammar. We describe the basic narrative categories and their relationship to a (...) canonical narrative arc, followed by a discussion of complex structures that extend beyond the canonical schema. This demands that the canonical arc be reconsidered as a generative schema whereby any narrative category can be expanded into a node in a tree structure. Narrative “pacing” is interpreted as a reflection of various patterns of this embedding: conjunction, left-branching trees, center-embedded constituencies, and others. Following this, diagnostic methods are proposed for testing narrative categories and constituency. Finally, we outline the applicability of this theory beyond sequential images, such as to film and verbal discourse, and compare this theory with previous approaches to narrative and discourse. (shrink)

Review of Moland, L. (Ed.). (2018). All Too Human. Laughter, Humor, and Comedy in Nineteenth-Century Philosophy. Boston: Springer.

A language is a system of signs used for communication, and linguists are tasked with, among other things, uncovering the syntax and semantics of such systems. In this paper I explore to what extent pictures fit this characterization of a language and hence would fall within the domain of linguistics. I conclude that at the very least there are well-defined systems of depiction for which we can give a precise semantics, in a familiar possible worlds framework, although pictorial propositions are (...) not derived via the linguistically familiar lexicon and recursive composition rules, but via geometric projection. I then show how sequences of pictures, like sequences of utterances, can be used to form coherent discourses. I explore in some detail extensions of the formal discourse semantics of Segmented Discourse Representation Theory to deal with comics, i.e. storytelling through picture sequences. I focus specifically on the representation of events in comics, and the integration of both symbolic and iconic elements. (shrink)

Dreams are not real, so when we recount them we prefix an intensional operator like “I dreamed that…”. Linguists will analyze this construction in terms of clausal complementation syntax and possible worlds semantics. But talking about a dream is often more like telling a story, with a potentially complex discourse structure (involving propositional discourse units connected by coherence relations like NARRATION, BACKGROUND, and EXPLANATION) that is hard to fit inside a single syntactically embedded that-clause (or a sequence of (...) independently embedded clauses). I show how we can analyze actual, complex dream report stories using a formal discourse semantics framework. I then explore how to extend this discourse framework to visual dream reporting, like in movies and comics, where it’s not immediately clear that we even have any intensional operators or embeddings to begin with. (shrink)

Rhetoric is the power of persuasion, or influence, through words. And in many ways, comics exemplify, through their heroes and heroines, the power of rhetoric, of the written and spoken word to convince, persuade, and ultimately move people. Wonder Woman exemplifies wisdom, or sophia, and as an ambassador and an emissary her character not only demonstrates the value of wisdom, but actively disarms threats, promoting peace through discourse. Wonder Woman remains relevant in the twenty‐first century, holding her own against (...) her male counterparts, and arguably embodying a passionate plea of persuasion. More than any other character, beyond brute force, beyond the use of technology and battle tactics where might makes right, even if right is just, Wonder Woman often mobilizes argumentation as her greatest weapon. She is sent to Man's World as an emissary for Amazonian values, for justice and equality, not simply to physically fight. (shrink)

We propose an extension of Discourse Respresentation Theory (DRT) for analyzing pictorial narratives. We test drive our PicDRT framework by analyzing the way authors represent characters’ mental states and perception in comics. Our investigation goes beyond Abusch and Rooth (2017) in handling not just free perception sequences, but also a form of apparent perspective blending somewhat reminiscent of free indirect discourse.

Metaphor pervades discourse and may govern how we think and act. But most studies only discuss its verbal varieties. This book examines metaphors drawing on combinations of visuals, language, gestures, sound, and music. Investigated texts include advertising, political cartoons, comics, film, songs, and oral communication. Where appropriate, the influence of genre and cultural factors is thematized.

The comic dramatists of the fifth centuryb.c.were notable for their preoccupation with poetics – that is, their frequent references to their own poetry and that of others, their overt interest in the Athenian dramatic festivals and their adjudication, their penchant for parody and pastiche, and their habit of self-conscious reflection on the nature of good and bad poetry. I have already explored these matters at some length, in my study of the relationship between comedy and literary criticism in the period (...) before Plato and Aristotle. This article continues the story into the fourth century and beyond, examining the presence and function of poetical and literary-critical discourse in what is normally called ‘middle’ and ‘new’ comedy. (shrink)

Henryk Chmielewski is the author of a historical comic book devoted to the 100th anniversary of Poland regaining its independence. The comic book of Chmielewski is a subjective vision of Polish history, because every act of creation is first of all an act of destruction. Artist says about very difficoult moment of Polish history (the 19th century, the early 20th century). He creates original story, argues, that the idea of Poland as an independent state was never not lost. Polish people (...) were formed armyduring the Napoleonic Wars, and Polish organisations started major uprisings (the Polish–Russian War of 1830–1831 and the January Uprising of 1863-64). Chmielewski creates an interesting picture of the world with the use of many varying forms, different codes (e.g. picture, word, photography). He use various means of expression: semantic, linguistic, compositional (see values, compotents: metannaration, digression, opposition "we" - "they", stereotype, appropriate words - freedom, Poland, Poles, relationship: fiction - real world, illusion, colloquial language). (shrink)

Analyzing two harm reduction comics campaigns—one early in the AIDS crisis and one more recent, I explore tensions between queer safer sexual erotics and national discourses of sexual norms/deviation raised by Cindy Patton and William Haver at the height of AIDS discourse theory in 1996, approximately halfway between the comics. Using these theorists’ reflections on the history of AIDS activism/representation as a hinge, I explore the manifestation/transformation a decade later of the ethical, educational, and erotic issues they raise. Both (...) foreground the ways that HIV, safer sex, and/or eroticism pose difficulties for systems of linguistic and visual representation. Combining text and image, comics—a common harm reduction medium—epitomize this representational issue. While the GMHC addresses an immediate need for information about safer sex, Alex attempts to tackle the unrepresentability/unthinkability of safer and/or seropositive sex. Safer Sex Comix, while largely prioritizing directness above formal experimentation, employ strategies of transgressing the borders of the comics panel to emphasize a plethora of lower-risk sexual acts. The most visually inventive moments in Alex represent Alex’s feelings of unintelligbility post-diagnosis, but the comic restricts its representation of sex only to anal intercourse, and it proves unable to visualize alternative formulations of the erotic, turning to more normative narratives and images as earlier, visually explicit unsafe sexual encounters are replaced with more a/illusive representations post-conversion, literalizing the unrepresentability of seropositive erotic life. (shrink)

Ernst Lubitsch, the great author of Hollywood comedy and pioneer of such genres as the sophisticated romantic comedy, the musical, and the screwball comedy, is a relatively overlooked figure in mainstream film theory. In this collection, renowned world thinkers and philosophers position Lubitsch as the premium director of subversive cinema, reflecting on his attitude toward love and politics which correspond to contemporary issues.Followers of the Hegelian, Marxist, Freudian, Lacanian, and Deleuzian traditions discuss thephilosophical, political, and ethical dimensions of Lubitsch's late (...) Hollywood work. They focus on love as stealing, the ethics of style, and comedy in times of austerity in the director's masterpiece, _Trouble in Paradise_ (1932); answer the question of why comedy is always polygamous; discuss links between masochism, melancholia, and ideology in _Ninotchka_(1939); celebrate the ethical gesture of comedy in _To Be or Not to Be_ (1942); and promote the revolutionary comic spirit of Lubitsch's last directorial effort, _Cluny Brown_ (1946). These essays' witty, subversive, and provocative approaches highlight Lubitsch's unique understanding of love, sex, comedy, and politics and idiosyncratic conception of totalitarian"nightmares" and capitalistic "paradise," countering the non-dialectic and politically correct discourse of mainstream and independent cinema today. (shrink)

The Materialist who interests me is the one who identifies such things as thoughts with what he speaks of with a degree of grand unspecificity [[sic]] infuriating to the physiologist as "brain processes" or "brain-states." The casual vagueness with which he invokes the brain happens not to affect the logic of his position, and it will prove more useful than to confront him with a physiologist demanding details to face him instead with a philosophical opponent, even if we must resurrect (...) one for the purpose. Let us, then, summon an Idealist from the shadows. His view, expressed equally grosso modo, is that all brain-states are thoughts. As the "is" of either position is the one of identity, the positions sound at this stage dangerously like mere commutations of one another, so in order to forestall the ignominy of saying the same thing while meaning to sound different, the opponents make sly countermoves. The Materialist says that there are brain-states—or even more unspecifically, that there are "material objects"—which are not thoughts ; and the Idealist, that there are thoughts which are not brain-states. These detrivialize [[sic]] the contest, but they equally disguise the contest’s comical ambiguities. It will appear upon analysis of the main strategies of logical offense that these traditional antagonists have been addressing themselves to different matters all along, and are saying different but quite compatible things. My chief reason for exhuming the contest is to illuminate features of Materialism which hardly can be discerned in the context of current preoccupation with predicates and language-games. Allowing myself the privileges of gross discourse which I have accorded my contestants, I shall say: the Idealist has been speaking of the content of thought, the Materialist about thoughts themselves. Let us now aim for a fraction of precision. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Alcibiades and Athens: A Study in Literary PresentationW. J. MccoyDavid Gribble. Alcibiades and Athens: A Study in Literary Presentation. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999. xii + 304 pp. Cloth, $75.In the wake of Hatzfeld's seminal study (1940), the life of Alcibiades has been examined and reexamined with a historical fine-tooth comb. Here Gribble offers, in a revised version of his Oxford D.Phil. thesis, a palette of Athenian literary portraits (...) (he opts not to deal with the later, non-Athenian tradition, 26) in an effort "to trace the extraordinary reaction excited by Alcibiades in contemporaries and in contemporary texts" (viii), with particular emphasis on the year 416-15, "when Alcibiades is at his most loved but also his most feared"--the moment "that is the focus of the most important ancient depictions" (vii), namely Thucydides 6.15, [Andocides] 4, and Plato's Symposium.In his introduction (1-28), Gribble explores the relationship between the "great" or "superlative" individual and his city and the inevitable clash of wills which typically ensued. Heroes and victors of whatever sort, however admired and honored by fellow citizens, usually posed a problem of accommodation within the Greek community. Some, such as Alcibiades, even became "city-threatening," thereby setting the stage for a love-hate scenario which played itself out not only in the day-to-day realities of late-fifth-century public life and policy but in the accompanying literary record. As defined by Gribble, the "great individual" possessed superlative natural gifts (13), "a massive sense of personal worth" (14), insatiable ambition (16-17), and "superlative status"--a combination of attributes which, if pursued aggressively, could pose "a threat to the concept of political equality which is the very basis of polis life" (18), especially when the polis in question was a democracy like Athens. And so it was with Alcibiades. [End Page 278]In chapter 1 (29-89), Gribble examines not "the story of Alcibiades' life,... but the way he lived his life (i.e., his bios)--or at least the way this lifestyle is presented in the surviving texts" (29). Such works stand apart from "ancient political-military historiography" and belong instead "to a tradition which, for the most part, is later in origin and far less reliable," one that "does not provide us with a single version of Alcibiades, but with layers of developing images, building on and transforming the picture transmitted from the late fifth and early fourth centuries" (29). Whereas distortion took root almost immediately at the hands of comic poets, orators, and Socratics, the Hellenistic writers (especially their penchant for "inventing" anecdotal detail pertaining to his private life) contaminated the story of the historical Alcibiades beyond repair. This mix of history and anecdote is preserved in Plutarch's Vita, which, according to Gribble, holds a key to understanding "the tradition of Alcibiades stories" (31, and conclusion, 263-82).Still Gribble does not harbor the illusion that he can ever find the real Alcibiades (in terms of his "actual behaviour"), for even amid the pages of contemporary authors this son of Cleinias had become a manipulable object of discourse as well as an appropriate pawn for arguments, both pro and con, which scrutinized the "relationship between the elite individual and the city" (43). It was a rare feat for any leader to keep such a relationship (marked both by distance from and solidarity with the demos) in balance; in the case of Alcibiades, there was teetering and tension from the beginning. His vainglorious and luxurious licenses doubtless aroused resentment in many circles, but more controversial was his "excessive and dangerous ambition" (59), coupled with a "contempt for normal convention displayed in (his) personal life" (70), that seemed to threaten the very stability of the state.Gribble begins his probe of contemporary texts in chapter 2 (90-158, including two appendices) with the four surviving rhetorical works (Isocrates 16, Lysias 14 and 15, and [Andocides] 4), which provide evidence of serious and ongoing debate about Alcibiades in the years following his death in 404-403. He begins part A ("Background") by discussing the "reality" of the first three speeches (all of which technically deal with the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Fellini's Crowds and the Remains of ReligionAndrew Mckenna (bio)The fascist parade in Federico Fellini's Amarcord enables us to take the measure of the director's analytic and inteve genius. It begins amid swirls of dust and smoke emanating from the town train station, as if attributing the successful spread of Italian fascism to a failure of perception. The party is, as the saying goes, blowing smoke in our face, producing (...) a cultural climate favorable to murky thinking. The haze connotes the inability to properly envision phenomena with any mental or moral clarity, to distinguish matters clearly, such as the difference that the film suggests in a later scene, with comic irony, between a real military victory and shooting a gramophone out of a bell tower because it is playing the communist Internationale.But we cannot get away with anything like blaming fascism only on the weather, moral or physical. Far more revealing is the next sequence of shots, in which local party officials and members, all in uniform, are shown running a little breathlessly in loose formation, while exchanging remarks that express gleeful admiration of their leader and his party. They hustle up some stairs in the same loose formation and stand facing the camera, medium close-up, in order to acclaim the party slogans booming from loudspeakers. They shout in unison before, we note, the slogans are fully pronounced, so that we are made aware that they are not really listening to what is being said, but only acting in concert. Their acclamation is comically out of sync—with reality, perceptual and, by implication, social. This image of the bersaglieri running in unison is familiar to spectators at political rallies and from newsreels at the time, and to historians since then. But Fellini has moved the camera in closer than it has ever been before, combining two or three characters in a head-shot as they trot up the street. It is a classic gesture of defamiliarization, as the Russian formalists called it when identifying art-work, that makes this phenomenon available to deeper understanding. [End Page 159]We have just viewed a penetrating analysis of group action, a symbolic discourse on crowd behavior as it concerns organized political activity. The running here is not natural to such a group; it must mean something. It isn't dictated to them as orders; it must obey the dictates of the phenomenon that Fellini is revealing to us. This brilliantly orchestrated scene prompts the question: why, when, for what reason does a crowd run? The answers, typically, are two: in fear, in panic, as from fire or flood; or in rage, in fury, as against an abhorred enemy culprit—to the Bastille, or the gallows, or the nearest tree or lamppost that can serve as such. Though it is closer to the second case, Fellini's gang of fascists fits neither of these models precisely, and we have to step back a bit and reflect upon what he is representing to us about crowd behavior and organized political activity of a certain kind, of the kind that can only succeed, perhaps, amid a hazy climate of moral perception. We need to probe further the logic of this phenomenon, to explore the meaning of what appears before our eyes, as the philosophers do when they say they are doing phenomenology. We can do this by further considering alternative models of behavior.In a military parade, we have an organized crowd of a certain specific type, in which a group is massed in rigid formation and everyone moves in lock-step order to the regular beat of the drum or to a repeated count of numbers. Fellini gives us an example of this in the fascist youth athletic exercises performed by uniformed groups of boys and girls who move their rifles and hoops to a steady eight-count beat. So we know the director of Amarcord is thinking about mass movements of all sorts. Moreover, his film also provides us with a crowd phenomenon at the opposite end of the social spectrum. At the beginning of the film, we witness the nightly passagiata, the evening town stroll still very... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 123.1 (2002) 119-122 [Access article in PDF] Mary Depew and Dirk Obbink, eds. Matrices of Genre: Authors, Canons, and Society. Center for Hellenic Studies Colloquia 4. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2000. vi + 346 pp. Cloth, $50. The present collection of essays, which originated as a colloquium at the Center for Hellenic Studies, starts, in the words of editor and organizer Dirk Obbink, from (...) the premise that "genre is a conceptual orienting device that suggests to the hearer the sort of receptorial conditions in which a fictive discourse might have been delivered." Obbink goes on to note that, as the discussion at the colloquium developed, "a more text-based conception of authorial performance" began to emerge (6). This evolution in turn parallels the movement in the volume from an initial discussion of archaic and classical Greek genres to those of Hellenistic poetry and its Roman imitators. One can only applaud this attempt to provide a more sophisticated framework for the reading and reception of ancient literature. As befits the stature of the sponsoring institution and of the many distinguished participants, all the contributions are of an unquestionable competence. In the end, however, it is unclear that we have achieved a more complex, refined, or problematized concept of genre than that with which we began. Indeed, with a few exceptions, most of the modern debates about the concept of genre are either ignored or cited in passing rather than directly engaged. Nonetheless, there are a number of interesting and important individual papers in this volume and only a few that disappoint.Among the most praiseworthy is Eric Csapo's "From Aristophanes to Menander? Genre Transformation in Greek Comedy." Csapo takes dead aim at the traditional narrative of the evolution from a politically engaged Old Comedy of ribald invective to an apolitical plot-centered New Comedy typified by Menander and his Roman epigones. Csapo's argument is that this narrative was manufactured, not through the accidents of preservation, but through a deliberate selection and canonization of texts by early Peripatetic critics and scholars. When we characterize Old Comedy as being typified by Aristophanes' carnivalesque assaults on the Athenian political establishment and then point to his plays as proof, we are not only engaging in circular reasoning, we are also treading a path that has been deliberately and tendentiously drawn for us. Thus, while the traditional narrative depicts a linear evolution from iambic to Old Comedy to New Comedy, which is portrayed as a movement from the personal and the topical to the universal and the apolitical, Aristotle himself, as Csapo notes (117), admits that Crates, Aristophanes' predecessor, abandoned the iambic and began to compose generalizing plots (Po. 1449b7-8). In short, plots of the kind deemed [End Page 119] typical of New Comedy are to be found at the very beginning of the comic form. By the same token, we have evidence of political comedy surviving well past Aristophanes' supposed invention of the Middle Comic style in the Plutus. Indeed, the last example of an Athenian comedy of political invective is Demetrius' Areopagite, dating from circa 294 B.C.E.Csapo's argument, of course, is not a simpleminded refusal to acknowledge change but rather an attempt to rethink the historical evolution of the comic genre outside the bounds of a narrow, teleological narrative. Genres are always complex negotiations between competing conceptions of the same form by different producers and consumers. At various times, for various intrinsic and extrinsic reasons, different versions of the same form will be ascendant or fading into eclipse. But it is never a question of an essence that either unfolds its fullness over time or declines from a single ideal instantiation.Less revolutionary but equally persuasive is Joseph W. Day's "Epigram and Reader: Generic Force as (Re-)Activation of Ritual." Day examines the relation between dedicatory epigrams on cult statues and their ritual contexts by arguing that the dedicatory genre is essentially performative rather than constative. These epigrams do their social work by activating a performative context in the mind of the reader... (shrink)

Graphic medicine, an interdisciplinary field situated at the crossroads of comics and healthcare, operates as a medium through which the intricate nature of experiences with illness can be articulated, challenging orthodox medical dogmatism in an engaging and accessible way. Combining the affordances of comics and the narrative power of storytelling, graphic medicine elucidates the socio-cultural stigmatization of dementia influenced by a multitude of discourses. Diverging from existing discourses that depict individuals with Alzheimer’s disease (AD) as zombies, brain-dead, or empty shells, (...) graphic memoirs reconstruct these reductive notions and represent them as imaginative, productive, and perceptive. Taking these cues, the present paper close reads some sections of Dana Walrath’s (2016) Aliceheimer’s: Alzheimer’s Through the Looking Glass in order to demonstrate how graphic medicine reconceptualizes the preeminent hallucinatory experiences of her AD-afflicted mother, Alice, as visions. Walrath deploys collage art to epitomize Alice’s ordeal with AD. In particular, Walrath deploys thought-provoking fragments from Lewis Caroll’s Alice in Wonderland, strategically to proximate Alice’s experiences with AD and tackle the problem of dementia and sociality. Additionally, the paper explores how the text fosters interdependence, respect, and trust to recognize and restore Alice’s personhood. The paper concludes by discussing how Aliceheimer’s operates as an alternative paradigm beyond the confines of biomedical and cultural models of dementia through the use of lexical puissance. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 34.2 (2001) 179-181 [Access article in PDF] Book Review Rethinking the Rhetorical Tradition: From Plato to Postmodernism Rethinking the Rhetorical Tradition: From Plato to Postmodernism. James L. Kastely. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997. Pp. viii + 293. $30.00. In Rethinking the Rhetorical Tradition, James Kastely presents an alternative to the "standard" rhetorical tradition; he calls this alternative skeptical rhetoric, describes its characteristic activity as (...) refutation, and claims for it special relevance in negotiating postmodern challenges to rhetoric, specifically, that it can serve as a "refutation of postmodernism" (23). This alternative tradition inheres in a canon of works somewhat different from the standard canon, and an examination of key works organizes most of the chapters in this book. To establish and articulate this tradition in the classical era, Kastely examines Plato's Gorgias and Meno, Sophocles' Philoctetes, and Euripides' Hecuba; he then moves to the modern era, and to two works that address themes central to ancient rhetorical skepticism: Jane Austen's Persuasion (1818) and Jean-Paul Sartre's What Is Literature? (1949). Finally, Kastely turns to the two prongs of the postmodern reappropriation of traditional rhetoric, the tropological formalism of Paul de Man and the ideological approaches of Marxist critics such as Terry Eagleton, challenging both of them with the comic skepticism of Kenneth Burke.The skeptical tradition begins with Socrates, of course. It takes as its central problem, not the impossibility or contingency of knowledge, but the existence of injustice. In a political community, the unavoidability of doing inadvertent injury both requires rhetoric and at the same time makes it party to continued injustice: "[D]oing injury is an inescapable aspect of a being who is born into a world that is shaped by a language and by conventional practices that embody a particular set of values" (42). It is these prior commitments and conventional practices that, Kastely argues, lead us to cause injury. Thus, the positive task of rhetoric is not to persuade others away from injustice or to promote remedies; it is to keep us constantly open to refutation, to the possibility of seeing an alternative to the inadvertent wrong we commit. The inherency of injustice is what makes rhetoric a philosophical problem, but refutation is what rhetoric can offer to philosophy (a claim that might surprise philosophers). And in his reading of the Meno, Kastely argues explicitly for a rhetorical, rather than philosophical or logical, understanding of refutation.Overall, Kastely offers us a Plato who is not the enemy of rhetoric, but rather "the most sophisticated and profound rhetorical theorist" (30), who dramatizes in dialogue the philosophical dilemma of rhetoric. In [End Page 179] Sophocles and Euripides, he finds dramatists who illustrate practical forms the dilemma can take, specifically the problem of the unavailable audience. In the Philoctetes, the problem is how to regain the trust and confidence of the marginalized and disenfranchised, how to restore the status of rhetorical audience to one who no longer believes that justice is possible. In the Hecuba, the problem is how a disempowered rhetor can speak to the powerful. In both plays, but especially in Hecuba, the proximity of rhetoric to violence is a practical consequence of the unsolved philosophical problem.Kastely admits that the skeptical legacy from classical rhetoric has had little effect since antiquity. His argument that this alternate tradition deserves recognition is made primarily by his chapters on Austen and Sartre. He sees the works he examines here as raising a question central to rhetorical skepticism: "Can there be a way of speaking and writing that can effectively challenge the marginalization and dehumanization of people in a world in which traditional structures of authority that made discourse coherent have vanished or, at least, are seriously and irretrievably eroded?" (139-40). Both question Enlightenment assumptions about universality and at the same time confront the vacuum left by the erosion of local communal and authority structures. Austen's "active exploration" of a "crisis in discursive practice" (141) and Sartre's concern with the "social responsibility of the writer" and the loss of a public... (shrink)

Philosopher Daniel C. Fouke sheds the light of rhetorical analysis on a subversive thinker whose challenges to institutional authority have awakened recent scholarly interest. John Toland was a controversial Irish-born British freethinker, satirist, and critic of traditional Christianity. His work Christianity Not Mysterious, now considered a classic exposition of deism, provoked outrage in its time, but eventually led to a healthy skepticism regarding the historical reliability of the biblical canon. Though little known today, Toland was an acquaintance of Gottfried Wilhelm (...) Leibniz, John Locke, and Anthony Ashley Cooper, Third Earl of Shaftesbury, among others. Fouke argues that Toland's use of language in theology and philosophy represents a neglected current of early modern thought, in significant contrast to Locke, to whom Toland is often compared. Toland's practice of philosophy recognizes a social dimension to knowledge, which cannot be found in many of his contemporaries. Fouke analyzes Toland's "exoteric strategy" of speaking as others speak, but with a different meaning. He argues that Toland's philosophy and theology had little to do with positive expression of beliefs, and that his philosophical aim was not to develop an epistemology, a true metaphysical system, an ideal form of governance, or the basis of ethical obligation, but to find ways to participate in the discourses of others while undermining those discourses from within. Fouke traces Toland's practices to Shaftesbury's conception of a comic or "derisory" mode of philosophizing aimed at exposing pedantry, imposture, dogmatism, and folly. This important study adds new depth to our understanding of a neglected though influential British writer. (shrink)

While committed to the argumentative and reasoned discourse recognizable in the work of contemporary professional philosophers, the actual practice that both Socrates and Diogenes routinely engaged in was in many ways more similar to stand-up and other forms of contemporary performative comedy. This paper analyzes the commonalities between Socrates’s and Diogenes's public philosophizing in Ancient Greece and performative comedy in the contemporary world, and emphasizes the subversive rhetorical efficiency and skeptical significance of public irony for their audiences. The paper (...) begins by exploring the ways in which ancient philosophers relied on irony and humor to promote skepticism and critical thinking, analyzes contemporary comic performances that seem similar, and concludes with reflections on the varieties of philosophical activity and experience. (shrink)

Based on two years of ethnographic fieldwork in an urban elementary school, this volume is an examination of how school division politics, regional economic policies, parental concerns, urban development efforts, popular cultures, gender ideologies, racial politics, and university and corporate agendas come together to produce educational effects. Unlike conventional school ethnographies, the focus of this work is less on classrooms than on the webs of social relations that embed schools in neighborhoods, cities, states, and regions. Utilizing a variety of narratives (...) and analytical styles, this volume: * explores how curriculum innovations are simultaneously made possible by and undermined by school district politics, neighborhood histories, and the spatial and temporal organizations of teachers' and parents' lives; * situates the educational discourse of administrators and teachers in the changing economic and political climates of the city; * analyzes the motivations behind an effort by school and business proponents to refashion classrooms within the school into business enterprises, and of children's efforts to make sense of the scheme; * examines the role of the school as a neighborhood institution, situating it at the intersections of city planners' efforts to regulate city space and children's efforts to carve out live spaces through out-of-school routines; * contemplates the meaning of school as a site for bodily experience, and looks at how patterns of space and control in the school shaped children's bodies, and at how they continued to use body-based languages to construct maturity, gender, and race; and * investigates the school as a space for the deployment of symbolic resources where children learned and constructed identities through their engagements with television, comic books, movies, and sports. _Tangled Up In School_ raises questions about how we draw the boundaries of the school, about how schools fit into the lives of children and cities, and about what we mean when we talk about "school.". (shrink)

While The Daily Show with Jon Stewart is certainly entertaining, it can also deliver a deeper analysis of our contemporary media environment. Stewart's analysis echoes that of the celebrated New York University media theorist Neil Postman, whose discerning insights seem to ground some of The Daily Show's sharpest comic bits. Much of The Daily Show's sharpest comedy requires its audience to grasp a Postman‐like criticism of television news. In addition, Stewart himself seems to offer a more general critique of today's (...) televised public discourse that is reminiscent of Postman's in several significant ways. This isn't to say, however, that Postman and Stewart are in perfect agreement. For one thing, Postman argues that the transformation of serious discussion into entertainment is all but inevitable when this discussion takes place on television. Stewart, on the other hand, seems to believe that television can do better. (shrink)

Prefaces was the last of four books by Søren Kierkegaard to appear within two weeks in June 1844. Three Upbuilding Discourses and Philosophical Fragments were published first, followed by The Concept of Anxiety and its companion--published on the same day--the comically ironic Prefaces. Presented as a set of prefaces without a book to follow, this work is a satire on literary life in nineteenth-century Copenhagen, a lampoon of Danish Hegelianism, and a prefiguring of Kierkegaard's final collision with Danish Christendom. Shortly (...) after publishing Prefaces, Kierkegaard began to prepare Writing Sampler as a sequel. Writing Sampler considers the same themes taken up in Prefaces but in yet a more ironical and satirical vein. Although Writing Sampler remained unpublished during his lifetime, it is presented here as Kierkegaard originally envisioned it, in the company of Prefaces. (shrink)

This introduction provides an overview to a special issue on Critical Healing, which draws on queer theory, disability studies, postcolonial theory, and literary studies to theorize productive engagements between the clinical and cultural aspects of biomedical knowledge and practice. The essays in this issue historicize and theorize diagnosis, particularly diagnosis that impacts trans health and sexuality, homosexuality, and HIV/AIDS transmission. The essays also address racialization, disability, and colonialism through discussions of fiction, film, theoretical memoir, and comics, as well as biomedical (...) discourse and knowledge. (shrink)

Why is it Andromeda that inspires Dionysus’ pothos for Euripides in Frogs? This article argues for an intratextual allusion to Aristophanes’ own use of this tragedy in Thesmophoriazusae, where Mnesilochus impersonates Andromeda and expects Euripides to become Perseus and rescue him. It is through Mnesilochus’ longing for his rescuer Euripides that Dionysus’ heart is struck with longing for Euripides as the savior of both tragedy and Athens. By assimilating Dionysus to Andromeda via Mnesilochus, this reading of the allusion to Andromeda (...) reverses the accepted tragic prototypes and symbolic gender of the comic characters in Frogs ; it also offers a new angle for viewing the thematic coherence of Frogs and clarifies the nature of Aristophanes’ reliance on tragic discourse by ultimately highlighting the autonomy of the comic genre. (shrink)

Pictorial free perception reports are sequences in comics or film of one unit that depicts an agent who is looking, and a following unit that depicts what they see. This paper proposes an analysis in possible worlds semantics and event semantics of such sequences. Free perception sequences are implicitly anaphoric, since the interpretation of the second unit refers to the agent depicted in the first. They are argued to be possibly non-extensional, because they can depict hallucination or mis-perception. The semantics (...) proposed here employs an account of anaphora using discourse referents, a formalized possible worlds semantics for pictorial narratives, and, to model the epistemic consequences of perceptual events, the event alternative construction from dynamic epistemic logic. In intensional examples, the second unit depicting what is seen is analyzed as embedded. It is argued that a semantics for embedding where the attitudinal state of the depicted agent is required to entail the semantic content of the picture attributes too much information to the agent. This is addressed with a model of normal looking, and a semantics for the embedding construction that uses existential quantification over alternatives, rather than universal quantification. (shrink)

Drawn sequences of images, like those in comics and picture stories, are a pervasive and fundamental way that humans have communicated for millennia. Yet, the study of visual narratives has only recently gained traction in Cognitive Science. Here we explore what has held back the study of the cognition of visual narratives, and why researchers should join in scholarship of this ubiquitous aspect of expression.

The concept utopian in Spain is often used in popular discourse as something that is impossible to attain, a dream fantasy, a desire, but with little or no hope of being materialized. In the Spanish media, it has been used in this sense especially in political comic strips, sometimes as a means of protest, often as a means of hopelessness. The same meaning used to be applied in the political scene and in the media until the term gradually came (...) to represent the citizen movements of the Indignados and the Occupy demonstrations. The Occupy movement took to the city of Madrid and spread to other cities and town squares all over Spain on May 15, 2011. Participants used digital culture to promote their politics... (shrink)

continent. 2.1 (2012): 40–43. Lance Olsen is a professor of Writing and Literature at the University of Utah, Chair of the FC2 Board of directors, and, most importantly, author or editor of over twenty books of and about innovative literature. He is one of the true champions of prose as a viable contemporary art form. He has just published Architectures of Possibility (written with Trevor Dodge), a book that—as Olsen's works often do—exceeds the usual boundaries of its genre as it (...) explores his interests in narrative theory and pedagogy. The book is a kind of “anti-textbook;” a performative polemic against the stale, conservative and monolithic conception of the literary that so often dominates institutional discourse around creative writing. The following interview takes the occasion of AoP's publication as a chance to speak with Olsen about the book itself as well as to engage with larger, unanswerable, questions about the futures and intersections of literature and education. —Ben Segal INTERVIEW: 1) First, I want to start before the beginning, with the title. I’m really fascinated by the concept it conjures. Can you say something about innovative/experimental/(choose your adjective) literature in relation to both ideas around architecture and possibility? Innovative or experimental are tremendously fraught adjectives, needless to say. But for the purposes of my book, they modify a fiction concerned with the questions: What is fiction? What can it do, and how, and why? Now, of course, what looks “innovative” or “experimental” to one at 17 may not be what looks “innovative” or “experimental” to one at 27 or 57, and what looks “innovative” or “experimental” in 1812 may not be what looks “innovative” or “experimental” in 2012. A certain existential and historical perspectivism is always at work. But I think it’s fair to say that innovative and experimental usually refer to a narrativity that includes a self-reflective awareness of and engagement with theoretical inquiry, concerns, and obsessions, as well as a sense of being in conversation with fiction across space and time. One can't create challenging writing in a vacuum; it has to challenge in relation to something. So contemporary writers interested in the subject are not only in pursuit of the innovative, but are also always-already writing subsequent to it—writing, that is, in its long wake. Architectures of Possibility conceives of creativity as a possibility space, a locale just outside our comfort zones where we can and should take multiple chances in order to imagine in new ways, explore fresh strategies for finding and cultivating ideas, re-view what it is we’re doing and why, better understand what Samuel Beckett meant when he wrote: “Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” It reminds us that there are other ways of narrating our worlds and ourselves than those we have inherited from the entertainment industry, the government, academia, previous writing, and so on. 2) AoP seems to be directed at several audiences (and purposes) simultaneously. What I mean is that it seems at times a polemic in favor of innovative literature, at other times a creative writing textbook, and still other times a guide to the network of publishers, journals, and programs that make up the current world of non-mainstream literary art in the U.S. In my mind, Architectures is a theorized anti-textbook about writing. Most textbooks on the subject (think of Janet Burroway’s Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft , taught in most creative-writing classroom across the country) orchestrate how to construct conventional stories. They instruct from a place of power how to generate familiar stories that are repeated so often that many of us begin to take them as the primary model for narrativity, if not unconsciously as a kind of truth. The result, as Brian Kiteley points out in 3 A.M. Epiphany (one of the only other alternative textbooks about innovative writing around, by the way, and a tremendous repository of exercises), is merely competent texts. Architectures problematizes that gesture by outlining what conventional narrativity looks like, urging writers to think about its ideology of form as well as content, and invites them to imagine writing, not as a set of relatively stable conventions, but, rather, as a possibility space where everything can and should be thought, tried, challenged. It thereby rhymes with Roland Barthes’s definition of literature: the question minus the answer—which is to say Architectures poses complications to the act of writing rather than solutions. 3) One of the most notable things about the book is the use of interviews. This is also one of the reasons that I think the book works so well for a variety of audiences—that anyone with even a passing interest in the state and future of literature will have an interest in your conversation with people like Ben Marcus, Samuel Delany, and Lydia Davis. I was hoping you could just talk a little about how you chose these subjects to interview, how you edited the interview material, and which answers you received struck you the most. Experimentalism , like realism , wants to appear in the plural. The idea of gathering more than forty interviews (with the help of my awesome collaborator, Trevor Dodge, himself a fine innovative author) represents an attempt to suggest that: the wide, rich, exciting opportunities inherent in the term. There are interviews with younger writers, elder statesmen in the field, publishers, editors, hypermedia artists, comic book makers, and so on: Joe Wenderoth, Carole Maso, Scott McCloud, Nick Montfort, Kathy Acker, et al. Trevor and I decided to do flash interviews: short, concentrated Q&As, each focusing on a particular troubling of writing. We only lightly edited the results to match the manuscript’s overall style, and every interview arrived as a surprise housing several unexpected insights. Three brief examples: Michael Mejia, when asked about what he dreads when setting about writing: “Dread is an interesting word here. I associate it less with loathing or aversion, I suppose, than with a kind of productive fear. Do I dread a project’s failure? Sure, who doesn’t? Who wants to waste time on something that comes to nothing, or is unreadable? But then, what do these terms mean, and who or what defines a work as a ‘failure,’ as ‘waste,’ as ‘unreadable’? Should a work actually try to interrogate and exceed these conceptual limitations? My tendency is to write into dread in order to reveal to myself, as much as to any reader that may come after, the varied complacencies that make other, mostly more conventional writings, readable. It’s at the frontier between readability (security) and unreadability (terror) that I want to live creatively.” Carole Maso, when asked what she’d like a sentence to accomplish: “I think a sentence can if allowed carry emotional and intellectual states as they flee, as they come and go, an escaping essence difficult to hold in other ways. In this way I think the sentence can work as a phrase of music does, sounding something large and elusive in us. Alternatively it can provide sometimes a stability, an essence, a moment of being. Unlike music the sentence also of course carries language with all its potential for meaning making and memory traces and association with it as well. I probably love the accretion of sentences most—those patterns, that shimmer, that resonance.” Shelley Jackson, when asked what is innovative about the innovative: “The purpose of the innovative is, I think, to wake us up. We are not quite alive, most of the time; we occupy a sort of cartoon version of our lives, its lines made smooth by repetition. Writing can open the seams in that world, reintroduce us to the real lives that we have forgotten. Maybe all good writing is innovative in some sense, in that it shows or tells or makes you feel something you never felt before—something for which you have no cartoon ready.” 4) You talk a little about N. Katherine Hayles’s concept of Media Specific Analysis and propose the supplemental notion of Medium Specific Generation—basically taking Hayles and applying her thought from the perspective of the writer. I’ve been trying to develop somewhat related theoretical frameworks, so I was really excited to come upon this section of the book. I’m wondering if you can talk a little more about this idea and, in general, about the potentials that you see as being opened up by writers engaging with and exploiting different media as literary platforms? “Lulled into somnolence by five hundred years of print,” Hayles urges in her (at least for me) transformative 2004 essay, “Print is Flat, Code is Deep,” “literary analysis should awaken to the importance of media-specific analysis, a mode of critical attention which recognizes that all texts are instantiated and that the nature of the medium in which they are instantiated matters.” She goes on to argue critics should learn to become more attuned to the materiality of the medium under investigation—which is to say a story isn’t a story isn’t a story. Rather, the “same” story remediated through film is intrinsically different from that story remediated through conventionally printed books is intrinsically different from that story remediated through hypermedia. “Materiality,” Hayles goes on, “is reconceptualized as the interplay between a text’s physical characteristics and its signifying strategies, a move that entwines instantiation and signification at the outset.” My point in Architectures is simply to emphasize Media Specific Generation: the idea that when writing you should be cognizant, not only of the thematics of the text you are working on, and, as it were, the internal components of its narrativity (character, language, plot, etc.), but also of the material embodiment those components take, and, perhaps more important, the material embodiment those components can take. The idea that the way texts matter matters isn’t something usually addressed in any significant way in creative-writing classrooms and textbooks. It may almost go without saying such experimentation with typography, layout, and white space has a long tradition—certainly one that tracks back at least as far as Guillaume Apollinaire’s early twentieth-century Calligrammes , Laurence Sterne’s textually ribald eighteenth-century Tristram Shandy , although one could arguably plot a hypothetical trajectory that reaches to ancient Greek romances like Achilles Tatius’ second-century Leucippe and Clitophon . Experiments into atomic materiality and digital immateriality bracket the definition of “book” at the same time they highlight Michael Martone’s prediction of its present future as increasingly viral, collaborative, and ephemeral. Or, as Matthew Battles points out: the future of the “book” has already arrived, and it is “ethereal and networked” rather than “an immutable brick.”While conventional writing and reading practices are conceptualized as private, individual, relatively fixed experiences, many of the new forms indicate that writing and reading—from production through dissemination—are rapidly becoming public, collective, incrementally unfixed experiences. That strikes me as an astonishing set of opportunities for a writer to investigate. 5) Another concept you elaborate in AoP is that of limit texts, basically texts that, once you read them, change what you imagine as the shape/horizon/potential of literature. You provide a fantastic reading list of limit texts at the end of AoP. I was hoping you could talk about a few of them in terms of how they specifically operate as limit texts for you—how they expand your understanding of what literature could be or do. Karl Jaspers coined the word Grenzsituationen (border/limit situations) to describe existential moments accompanied by anxiety in which the human mind is forced to confront the restrictions of its existing forms—moments that make us abandon, fleetingly, the securities of our limitedness and enter new realms of self-consciousness. Death, for example. Limit texts are a variety of disturbance that carries various elements of narrativity to their brink so the reader can never quite imagine them in the same terms again. Once you’ve taken one down from the shelf, you’ll never be able to put it back up again. They won’t leave you alone. They will continue to work on your imagination long after you’ve read them. Simply by being in the world, they ask us to embrace difficulty, freedom, radical skepticism. One of the most important for me is Samuel Beckett’s The Unnamable . Instead of establishing conventional setting and building traditional character, from its first words it unsettles both: “Where now? Who now? When now?” That first trio of question marks broadcasts the thematics of the writing (“novel” may be too strong a word) that will follow: it is all about a voice (or, perhaps, voices, about the grammatical mistake of the first-person pronoun), a consciousness (maybe, again, too strong a word), often genderless, removed from place and chronology and socioeconomic reality, hovering in a state of perpetual aporia. All it knows is what it doesn’t know, and its not-knowing is blackly, sardonically comic. The Unnamable is the embodiment of an unreliable narrator—a subject position that can’t trust itself, let alone be trusted by a reader. It contradicts, takes back, digresses, undoes what it just did, forgets, lies, hallucinates gloriously. The language is abstract, disembodied, devoid of sensory data, grayish rather than painterly in texture. Without knowing this passage is from a novel, a reader might well conclude s/he were reading a patch of (anti-)Cartesian philosophy. It might be helpful to conceive of what Beckett is doing as post-genre writing, then, or perhaps what Raymond Federman referred to as critifiction—a mode that blurs conventional distinctions between theory and narrative. In completely different register, and much more recently, Anne Carson’s Nox blew me away. It takes the form of an elegy for her older brother, whom she didn’t know well and who died unexpectedly while on the run from the law in Europe. The thing itself arrives in a box that simulates a thick book, as well as the brother’s textual coffin. Open it, and inside you discover, not a codex, but an accordioned series of “pages” that folds out into an arrangement that suggests an ancient scroll (Carson is, perhaps illuminatingly, a professor of classics) made up of shards of her brother’s letters, old photographs, tickets, Carson’s observations, Catullus’ poem 101 (the one addressed to the Roman poet’s dead brother, a doubling of Carson’s situation), and extensive dictionary entries on all the words that compose that poem. The aggregate produces a collage about the impossibilities of aggregates, the impossibilities of understanding fully, of capturing absences in language. At times Nox feels less an example of what most readers consider a book than something closer to a three-dimensional work of assemblage art. It’s a beautiful mechanism for contemplating Media Specific Analysis, for urging us all to be more extreme. 6) Finally, I want to talk a little about pedagogy and institutions. I’m less interested in questions like “Are MFA programs good for writers?” than in questions about how your role as teacher informs your understanding of literature and your writing practice. I’m also very curious about your take on how commercially marginal literary art is largely patronized by large state institutions and at the same time often imagines itself as a critical and even possibly revolutionary practice. How have your own positions within universities and university-affiliated organizations shaped your thinking about them and about innovative literature? I can imagine in many ways it might make you even more critical. And (I know, another ‘and’...) how does AoP (especially given its relation to Rebel Yell , your previous text on creative writing) reflect your personal history and experience as a teacher and member of communities that are largely defined by institutions? In the classroom, I try to generate the pedagogical field I would have liked to have inhabited as a student, but didn’t. Roland Barthes has a lovely line about this: “We need to substitute for the magisterial [classroom] space of the past (the word delivered by the master from the pulpit above with the audience below, the flock, the sheep, the herd)—a less upright, less Euclidean space where no one, neither teacher nor students, would ever be in his final place.” Easier said than done, of course, but an important life project for all who think of themselves as educators. My own classroom, my own writing, and Architectures of Possibility itself attempt to create the sort of possibility space where, as I mentioned at the outset of our interview, everything should be thought, tried, challenged; where everything rhymes with Roland Barthes’s definition of literature: the question minus the answer. I’m not sure I could write what I’m writing now without the conversations I have almost daily with my students, the conversations they have with each other, the conversations we all have with the texts we study. Especially in light of the paradigm shift over the last, say, quarter century from academia as intellectual exploration to academia as McDonaldized trade school, the irony isn’t lost on me concerning the discrepancy between the safe harbor innovative authors find there and the cultural critiques those authors launch through their writing and pedagogical work. In 2001, I quit my full professorship at one institution precisely because of my disappointment over what had happened to the learning environment there. I had no intentions of reentering the field. In 2007, however, the University of Utah approached me, and I found myself in an environment much more hospitable to the sort of work I want to do—teaching experimental narrative theory and practice. It isn’t by any means a simple irony. One could easily argue innovative writing and pedagogy represents the trace of the paradigm Barthes suggests, and that trace is tremendously productive in all kinds of ways. Innovative writing has never and will never change the world in any large, macrocosmic way. But we’ve all had our lives changed, one by one, by an encounter with a difficult, rich, resonant piece of prose, poetry, music, art, you name it. We’ve all had our lives changed at the ahistorical, microcosmic moment by a class we’ve taken, a teacher we’ve studied with, to such an extent that we became, quite literally, different people. I just came across a stunning set of sentences from Derrida on the topic: “What is education? The death of the parents.” That’s what we’re all up to in the innovative, be it in written texts or the texts we call our classrooms or the texts we call our politics: trying to disrupt what both can and can’t be disrupted, trying to undo what both can and can’t be undone, continuously. (shrink)

The conspicuous absence of personal articulations of miscarriage in mainstream discourses attests to the stigmatised nature of the experience. Notably, there exists a growing body of infertility comics which foreground the authors’ lived realities of miscarriage. In a close reading of select graphic memoirs such as Jenell Johnson’s Present/perfect, Paula Knight’s The Facts of Life, Phoebe Potts’ Good Eggs, and Diane Noomin’s Baby Talk, this article examines how the authors use comics to foreground their predicament. In so doing, the essay (...) argues that these narratives attempt to accord a cultural legitimacy to the hitherto silenced experiential realities of miscarriage. (shrink)

The grammatical paradigm used to be a model for entire areas of cognitive science. Its primary tenet was that theories are axiomatic-like systems. A secondary tenet was that their predictions should be tested quickly and in great detail with introspective judgments. While the grammatical paradigm now often seems passé, we argue that in fact it continues to be as efficient as ever. Formal models are essential because they are explicit, highly predictive, and typically modular. They make numerous critical predictions, which (...) must be tested efficiently; introspective judgments do just this. We further argue that the grammatical paradigm continues to be fruitful. Within linguistics, implicature theory is a recent example, with a combination of formal explicitness, modularity, and interaction with experimental work. Beyond traditional linguistics, the grammatical paradigm has proven fruitful in the study of gestures and emojis; literature (“Free Indirect Discourse”); picture semantics and comics; music and dance cognition; and even reasoning and concepts. We argue, however, that the grammatical paradigm must be adapted to contemporary cognitive science. Computational methods are essential to derive quantitative predictions from formal models (Bayesian pragmatics is an example). And data collection techniques offer an ever richer continuum of options, from introspective judgments to large-scale experiments, which makes it possible to optimize the cost/benefit ratio of the empirical methods that are chosen to test theories. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Play, Laugh, LoveCynthia Willett’s Challenge to PhilosophyMegan CraigIt is an honor to respond to Cynthia Willett’s work, which has been an inspiration for me personally as well as a crucial corrective to the biases and blind spots of Western philosophy. Reading her entails reviewing some of the most basic features of one’s life: the place you call home, the people you live with, your mother or primary caregiver, the (...) words you utter, the other animals you love or ignore, and local conditions for justice, for play, for laughter, and for art. Her four major texts, all of them ethical, confront irony, motherhood, social justice, and animals. Because it would be impossible to deal comprehensively with the ways in which Willett has challenged and strategically sabotaged philosophy, my remarks here will focus on her most recent book, Interspecies Ethics, which expands several aspects of her early work on irony and laughter and her groundbreaking research on affect in Maternal Ethics and Other Slave Moralities.Interspecies Ethics is a brave and joyful investigation into the possibilities for camaraderie and justice among and between animal species. The book is moving in its descriptions of animal behaviors and sharp in its critique of philosophy’s implication in the chasm between human beings and other animals. Willett’s text is also ingenious in its performative aspects. She devotes much of her attention to the comic and to laughter, in spite of the grave subject matter she tackles and a final chapter devoted to J. M. Coetzee’s Disgrace. She not only enjoins us to consider other animals’ capacities for laughter and humor, she tells jokes. Her first chapter, “Can the Animal Subaltern Laugh?” [End Page 59] (co-written with her sister) revolves around a Colbert Report episode relating to monkeys and ends with the phrase “ jello and porn” (probably the first-ever invocation of these terms, together, in a philosophical text). Willett’s humor recalibrates the expectations we have for philosophical prose and expands the resources we might use when philosophizing. Additionally, in laughing along with Willett, we are already exhibiting our animal natures. As she writes, “Waves of laughter lower defenses and mock the borders of subjects and groups, exposing these borders as more porous than they might have been thought” (Willett 2014, 79). In the spirit of forging a community of the laughing, Willett begins her thinking about animals not from the perspective of pity, shame, or horror at what we do to them, but from a celebratory glee in animal life.In this essay, I will stress a few of the themes running through Willett’s work and pose three questions for further discussion. These relate, in order, to interspecies contact, playgrounds, and to her reading of Disgrace.Contact EthicsWillett is concerned with the world we share with other animals, with our common lots and the blurred edges of our differing bodies and habitats. Her book invites an awareness of the tragic fates of so many animals, but also the ridiculous, comical, and joyous aspects of our overlapping animal natures. Her emphases fall on playfulness, laughter, and musicality—traits she observes across animal species and that challenge human exceptionalism. Interspecies Ethics continues Willett’s ongoing project of reimagining the conditions for ethical life. Rather than an ethics based in infinite responsibility, one premised on sympathy and the recognition of mutual suffering, or an ethics rooted in the internalization of a universal law, Willett envisions an ethics grounded in “call and response,” which she describes as “discourse ethics across species” (Willett 2014, 27). For her, “discourse” means an initial, preverbal, rhythmic participation in the life of another creature. This is a far cry from the rational discourse ethics associated with Habermas. Instead, she sees call and response ethics as a tentative, playful exchange that challenges accounts of language, reason, and rationality. It also corrects Levinasian response or alterity ethics by reminding us that “responding to alterity is not [equivalent to] living with those other creatures” (Willett 2014, 9). In a way, Willett’s vision of ethics entails normalizing and extending the Levinasian face to face encounter to see what happens when we face... (shrink)