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1 Der vorliegende, erweiterte und aktualisierte Beitrag wurde vom Verf. am 7. Juni 2006 als Habilitationsvortrag für das Fach ‘Englische Philologie: Literaturwissenschaft’ an der Geisteswissenschaftlichen Fakultät der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz gehalten. AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen It’s Easy (? ): Literaturdidaktische Reflexionen zur Poplyrik am Beispiel von John Lennons “All You Need Is Love” 1 Hugo Keiper Pop songs and their lyrics are an important and tremendously influential textual and literary phenomenon in today’s globalized world that is worth consideration as a (potentially) serious art form, or even genre, in itself. On the other hand, many such texts open up highly useful as well as motivating avenues to the teaching of English (or anglophone) literature and especially, of course, of lyric poetry, at the level of higher secondary as well as university education. Taking John Lennon’s “All You Need Is Love” (together with the present author’s own, long-standing experience in teaching introductory classes to the study of literature) as an example, this paper sets out to show some of the unique opportunities which pop songs/ lyrics, viewed as an irreducibly intermedial phenomenon, and within their specific cultural and historical contexts, offer in the classroom to demonstrate to young people and students, especially at the beginner’s level, the immediate pertinence of various aspects of literary analysis, criticism and theory to the understanding of literary texts, but also that this kind of approach can be extremely helpful in developing a heightened sensitivity to all kinds of aspects connected with the reading, reception and interpretation of literature. At the same time, however, a new, ‘intermedial’ as well as dialectically ‘deconstructive’ reading of Lennon’s lyrics (and of their working and function within the song as a whole) is put forward, not least in hopes of outlining and pointing the way towards a long-needed, specifically intermedial aesthetic of pop songs, and especially of their lyrics, in terms of their various and varying functions within that overriding context, of which Lennon’s song offers a tauntingly complex as well as multifarious instance. In the final analysis, the proposed re-reading of the Hugo Keiper 166 song’s lyrics, which, at first sight, would appear to be largely at odds with the surprisingly unanimous previous reception of the song as a pithy, but also a naively simple and idealistic, slogan-like statement, as it were, of the basic tenet and gist of the hippies’ philosophy in the late sixties, leads to a more balanced appreciation of what Lennon was actually out to do in this highly interesting and ‘literary’ song, while earlier readings are shown to have been prompted, in part at least, not so much by attempts to really understand the text as such but rather by various listeners’ (and readers’) stereotypically clichéd expectations and prejudices, which were compounded by the song’s intricate textual as well as musical conception, but also by the powerful influence of the various contexts (and media) in which the song was published in the late sixties and early seventies. Significantly, the song and its ‘traditional’ understanding has just recently received a fresh boost of topicality due to its inclusion as the final track in George and Giles Martin’s re-working of 26 famous Beatles hits on the 2006 compilation album Love. 1. Die Didaktik von Verstexten, speziell jedoch der Lyrik, ist in der Schule, mehr noch aber an der Universität, ein notorisch dorniges Areal, zumal, wenn es der/ dem Unterrichtenden um die Eröffnung eines lustvoll-motivierenden Zugangs zu den angesprochenen Genres bzw. Texttypen und Vertextungsverfahren und um die Vermittlung von Einsicht in die auch heute noch unmittelbare und ungebrochene Relevanz des Gegenstandsbereichs für Studierende der Literatur- und Kulturwissenschaften geht. Befragt man, wie ich dies in meinen Einführungskursen zur anglistischen Literaturwissenschaft seit nun über zwei Jahrzehnten routinemäßig tue, Studienanfänger und sogar noch fortgeschrittenere Studierende zu ihren bisherigen Erfahrungen mit Literatur, speziell natürlich englischsprachiger Literatur, besteht die nahezu einhellige Auskunft darin, dass allenfalls rudimentäre, überwiegend punktuelle Vorerfahrungen mit Lyrik allgemein, und naturgemäß umso eher noch mit englischer bzw. englischsprachiger Lyrik vorhanden seien, und dass man darüber hinaus auch keinen wirklichen Zugang zur Lyrik, geschweige denn tieferes Interesse oder etwa gar Begeisterung dafür besäße. Die auch außerhalb pädagogischer Institutionen weitverbreitete Ansicht, Lyrik führe heutzutage, und in der Tat “seit Jahrzehnten in der Gunst des breiten Lesepublikums [nur noch] ein Schattendasein” (Geraths 1985: 9), scheint damit vollauf bestätigt, und zwar selbst im Hinblick auf die weit überwiegende Mehrheit der Studierenden philologischer Fächer, die immerhin ihr Studium wenigstens zum Teil auch aus literarischen Interessen heraus gewählt haben. Scheinbar untermauert wird dieses Vorurteil noch durch eine Reihe empirischer Untersuchungen, so etwa durch die im November 2000 von der Stiftung Lesen durchgeführte Erhebung zum Leseverhalten der Deutschen, It’s Easy (? ) 167 2 Eine repräsentative Umfrage des Magazins Bücher unter deutschen Lesern aus dem Jahre 2006 ergibt freilich auf die Frage “Was lesen Sie am liebsten? ” den - bei 9 kategorisierten Rängen - nicht ganz so schlechten 6. Rang für “Gedichte”, und zwar mit insgesamt 7%, wobei der Wert für Frauen sogar bei 10%, für Männer (erwartbar? ) freilich bei nur 3% liegt. Ob dies als bloße Momentaufnahme oder als Zeichen einer gewissen Trendwende zu werten ist, bleibe allerdings dahingestellt, zumal auch die Zuordnungskategorien (etwa “Gedichte” vs. “Klassiker”) nicht immer überzeugen. 3 Vgl. auch Faulstich (1978a: 62) sowie Faulstich (1978b). In der tatsächlichen Praxis der anglistisch-amerikanistischen Literaturwissenschaft (und weitgehend auch der Literaturdidaktik, jedenfalls aber der einschlägigen Forschung) ist Faulstichs bereits 1978 geäußerte Prämisse freilich bemerkenswert folgenlos geblieben - vgl. (1978b: 87): “Daß sich Popmusik im Verlauf der 60er und 70er Jahre zur gewichtigsten und zugleich komplexesten Form moderner englischer Lyrik entwickelt hat, neben der alle traditionell gedruckten auf die unter anderem Christoph Bode im Vorwort zu seiner 2001 erschienenen Einführung in die Lyrikanalyse verweist und welche generell die Bereitschaft heutiger LeserInnen in Frage stellt, “sich konzentriert mit schwierigen Texten zu beschäftigen”, woraus Bode das Fazit zieht: “Konsequenterweise wird gerade die Art von Literatur, die an den Leser die höchsten Anforderungen stellt, am wenigsten gelesen: Lyrik.” (Bode 2001: 10) 2 All dies ist unbestreitbar richtig, solange man von einem zwar traditionsgerechten, gleichwohl aber enggezogenen und, wenn man so will, elitären, höhenkammliterarisch orientierten Lyrikbegriff und einer Präponderanz lesender Rezeptionsweisen ausgeht. Es trifft indes nicht mehr zu, ja verkehrt sich geradezu ins Gegenteil, sobald man Lyrik im umfassenden und zugleich auch im historisch ursprünglichen, quasi etymologischen Sinne begreift (der signifikanterweise zugleich auch den heute dominanten Erscheinungsformen lyrischen Dichtens eher zu entsprechen scheint). Ein solcher Perspektivenwechsel nämlich beschert uns die Einsicht in ein scheinbares Paradoxon, welches gerade für Anglisten/ Amerikanisten von besonderem Interesse sein muss, das aber darüber hinaus - zumal in einer globalisierten Welt - generell nicht ohne Folgen für unseren Zugang wie auch unseren Begriff von Lyrik ist und sein sollte. Im classroom thematisiere ich dieses Phänomen im Allgemeinen, indem ich den zunächst skeptisch bis verblüfft reagierenden KursteilnehmerInnen eine Wette antrage, die ich gar nicht verlieren könne, indem ich behaupte, ihre von allen literarischen Gattungen vielleicht intensivste, mit Sicherheit aber breiteste Erfahrung läge ohnehin im Bereich der Lyrik, und hier wiederum speziell der englischsprachigen Lyrik, und dass sie daher dieses beachtliche Vorwissen bereits in den Kurs einbrächten, nämlich - und die Lösung ist so stichhaltig wie naheliegend - durch ihre bereits seit vielen Jahren gegebene, praktisch tägliche Konfrontation mit - vornehmlich englischsprachigen - Popsongs, die via Radio, Musik-TV, iPods und zahlreiche andere Medien vielfach nahezu unausgesetzt auf sie einström(t)en, die jedoch, zumindest in ihrer textlichen Dimension, unzweifelhaft der Gattung Lyrik zuzurechnen sind 3 , einer Lyrik freilich, die ungeachtet Hugo Keiper 168 Formen der zeitgenössischen Dichtung peripher, in ihrer gesellschaftlichen Relevanz gleichsam nebensächlich werden - diese Erkenntnis […] soll hier keiner Begründung mehr bedürftig sein.” 4 Als Beispiel für diesen Trend im deutschen Sprachraum sei nicht nur auf die neue deutsch(sprachig)e Welle verwiesen, wie sie sich auch deutlich in den hiesigen Charts der letzten Jahre spiegelt, sondern auch auf die Castingshows Starmania und Deutschland sucht den Superstar, die in ihren neuesten Staffeln 2006 bzw. 2007 beide deutliche Zeichen in Richtung deutschsprachiger Lieder setz(t)en, im Falle von DSDS sogar programmatisch durch die Vorgaben des DSDS-‘Sprachrohrs’ Dieter Bohlen. 5 Das im Jahre 2005 auf DVD erschienene Neue Rock und Pop Lexikon verzeichnet ca. 40.000 Interpreten, 100.000 aktuell lieferbare Alben sowie Samples bzw. entsprechende Links zu 1.350.000 Einzeltiteln, was aber seinerseits wieder nur einen Teil des tatsächlich vorhandenen Korpusmaterials repräsentiert. Musikserver wie iTunes werben mit der Verfügbarkeit von etwa 5 Millionen Songs, was selbst unter Berücksichtigung von Cover- und Instrumentalversionen auf insgesamt wesentlich höhere Zahlen als etwa 1,5 Millionen Titel hindeutet. 6 So, neben vielen anderen Beispielen, etwa der singer-songwriter Kris Kristofferson in einem Interview, wo er sich über seine erste Plattenaufnahme und die Situation der späten Sechziger äußert (Kristofferson/ Leigh 2004): “[…] I was 33. I was ten years older than my peers, all the people that I was hanging out with, all the people who were trying to be writers at the time. It was a very exciting time.” gegenläufiger Tendenzen, die sich gerade im Moment abzuzeichnen scheinen 4 , weitgehend im Zeichen einer transnationalen, englischsprachigen Globalkultur steht, welche ihrerseits in vielfältige Interaktionsmuster mit den nativen Sprachen und Kulturen ihrer weltweiten Rezipienten eingebunden ist. Damit ist zugegebenermaßen zwar per se noch nichts über die literarische Qualität dieses primär und überwiegend intermedial vermittelten und meist auch dementsprechend rezipierten Typs lyrischer Texte ausgesagt, ebensowenig wie über die tatsächliche Natur, Tiefe und Genauigkeit dieser Rezeption - ein Aspekt, auf den in der Folge noch zurückzukommen sein wird. Auf der anderen Seite jedoch lässt bereits die schiere Quantität des heutzutage weltweit so gut wie unmittelbar verfügbaren, überwiegend in englischer Sprache verfassten Fundus von Popsongs 5 die berechtigte Erwartung zu, dass sich darunter auch ein nicht geringer Anteil literarisch anspruchsvoller, ja hochstehender Texte befindet, die auch als Lyrik an sich die Aufmerksamkeit der Literaturwissenschaft verdienen. Dies trifft umso eher zu, als unbeschadet der unbestreitbaren Kommerzialisierung dieses Bereichs viele dieser Texte aus der Feder von Autoren und zunehmend auch Autorinnen stammen - writers im umfassenden Sinne, wie sie sich vielfach nennen 6 -, die nicht bloß und vordergründig am kommerziellen Erfolg interessiert sind, sondern die sich eben auch als Lyriker und Komponisten mit ernsthaftem künstlerischem Anliegen, mit inhaltlichen und ästhetischen Botschaften und Kompetenzen sehen und deren alleinige Hinwendung zur (Pop-)Musik an sich schon indiziert, dass sie Interesse und ‘Gefühl’ für Klang, Rhythmus und das Wort besitzen, für Ingredienzien also, die gemein- It’s Easy (? ) 169 7 Zumindest in ihren Anfängen sahen sich nicht wenige der heute bekanntesten singersongwriters bzw. Pop-/ Rockstars primär oder ganz als Literaten bzw. Lyriker, so u.a. Leonard Cohen, Jim Morrison (The Doors), Lou Reed, Suzanne Vega, aber auch Bob Dylan oder, als Multitalent wie Dylan, eben auch John Lennon. hin und aus guten Gründen in besonders hohem Maße mit der gattungsmäßigen Spezifik von Lyrik assoziiert werden 7 . 2. Im Folgenden möchte ich anhand eines aus meiner Sicht wie Erfahrung besonders aufschlussreichen, speziell aber auch didaktisch ergiebigen Popsongs der späteren Sixties, der sich im Unterricht als Einstieg in die Lyrikanalyse und Katalysator für vielfältige grundlegende Fragen der Literaturwissenschaft und -theorie bereits mehrfach bewährt hat - nämlich John Lennons “All You Need Is Love” -, einige der Aspekte wie auch der literaturdidaktischen Möglichkeiten ansprechen, die sich aus der genaueren, wissenschaftlichen Beschäftigung mit Popsongs, und insbesondere natürlich mit deren textlicher Dimension, ergeben. Dabei handelt es sich zugleich um Beobachtungen, die in den Zusammenhang eines größer angelegten Projekts zur Poplyrik gehören, das auf der einen Seite ein literaturdidaktisch orientiertes Einführungsbuch in die Lyrik- und Versanalyse mit einschließt, welches des weiteren auch mit grundlegenden Aspekten der Literaturanalyse, des close reading wie auch der Literatur- und Kulturtheorie vertraut machen will, indem es anhand und ausgehend von einer Auswahl unterschiedlichster Popsongs diese zugleich auch in der reichen und vielfältigen Tradition speziell der englischsprachigen Literatur und Versdichtung zu verorten sucht und darüber hinaus zu repräsentativen älteren, aber auch zu zeitgenössischen, im engeren Sinne ‘literarischen’ Texten, speziell natürlich zu lyrischen bzw. Verstexten, in Beziehung setzt. Gerade im Rahmen eines solchen Vergleichs kann es gelingen, den Blick für weiterreichende literatur- und kulturgeschichtliche Zusammenhänge zu öffnen und zu schärfen, womit darüber hinaus aber auch Einsicht in die uns noch unmittelbar berührende Relevanz dieser Tradition, und damit in die historische Tiefendimension und Verwurzelung der uns heute auf breiter Basis bewegenden populärkulturellen Artefakte geschaffen werden kann. Indes geht es dabei nicht allein, ja nicht einmal in erster Linie darum, Popsongs als Lockvögel und sugar-coated pills im Rahmen einer zeitgemäßen Didaktisierung englischsprachiger (Vers-)Dichtung zu gebzw. missbrauchen. Vielmehr geht es mir vor allem auch um eine Bewusstmachung des ästhetischen wie auch literarischen Eigenwerts dieser Texte. Parallel und in Erweiterung zum genannten, in statu nascendi befindlichen Hugo Keiper 170 8 Eine genauere Diskussion der Forschungslage ist im gegebenen Rahmen nicht möglich und auch nicht unbedingt erforderlich. Verwiesen sei hier lediglich auf Werner Faulstichs inzwischen ‘klassisches’ Einführungsbuch Rock - Pop - Beat - Folk (1978a) sowie auf die in der Bibliographie angeführte Auswahl älterer, vor allem auf konkrete Einzeltexte bezogener Arbeiten Faulstichs. Als didaktisch orientierte Studie wäre auch Mahler (1994) zu nennen. Vgl. weiters auch Kap. II.7 in Bode (1983). Einen methodisch interessanten semiotischen Zugang zur intermedialen Natur von Popsongs bietet etwa auch Elicker (1997). 9 Es mag uns deutschsprachigen AnglistInnen/ AmerikanistInnen zum Trost gereichen, dass mit wenigen Ausnahmen - namentlich hervorzuheben wäre hier Bob Dylan, mittlerweile stilisiert zu Amerikas ‘neuem Shakespeare’ - meines Wissens auch im anglophonen Raum auf Seiten der Literaturwissenschaft und -kritik im engeren Sinne nur wenig zu Poplyrik bzw. -songs gearbeitet wurde und wird, obwohl es sich dabei um ein zentrales, ja vielleicht das grundlegende Phänomen der Popkultur handelt, welches unsere globalisierte Weltkultur bis in die diskursive Ebene hinein entscheidend geprägt hat und prägt. Einführungsbuch erfolgt daher auf der anderen Seite auch eine gesonderte, systematisch und grundlegend vorgehende Auseinandersetzung in Aufsatz- und mittelfristig auch in Monographieform mit vor allem englischsprachiger Pop- und Rocklyrik, die sich in umfassender Weise insbesondere auch mit der Ästhetik des Popsongs und den Spezifika seiner Wirkung(en) und speziell auch Rezeption auseinandersetzt. Im Hinblick auf die aktuelle Forschungslage und speziell auch auf die Entwicklung der Forschung in den letzten drei Jahrzehnten besteht meines Erachtens gerade im deutschen Sprachraum entschieden Bedarf an derartigen Studien und generell an einer so gründlichen wie grundsätzlichen literaturwissenschaftlichen Auseinandersetzung mit diesem wichtigen Bereich, der zudem zentral in die Intermedialitätswie auch die Rezeptionsforschung hineinspielt (welche darüber hinaus aus dieser Richtung auch ihrerseits wesentliche Impulse empfangen könnten). 8 Auffällig scheint freilich auch, dass selbst die Kulturwissenschaft diesem Bereich bislang nur verhältnismäßig wenig Aufmerksamkeit geschenkt hat, was auch insofern umso bemerkenswerter scheint, als Terry Eagleton in seinem rezenten literatur- und kulturtheoretischen Bilanzierungsversuch After Theory aus dem Theorieboom und der kulturwissenschaftlichen Wende der letzten Jahrzehnte nicht ganz zu Unrecht den Schluss zieht: “Another historic gain of cultural theory has been to establish that popular culture is also worth studying.” (Eagleton 2003: 4) 9 Wenn ich “All You Need Is Love” hier als ‘Popsong’ bzw. ‘Poplyrik’ bezeichne, so bedarf die Verwendung dieser Termini in diesem speziellen Fall und im gegebenen Rahmen wohl kaum der eingehenderen Rechtfertigung, handelt es sich bei diesem ‘Megahit’ der Beatles doch in der allgemeinen Wahrnehmung um den prototypischen Popsong der Sixties, ja für viele Zeitgenossen wahrscheinlich um den Popsong schlechthin. Angesichts der erheblichen terminologischen Unsicherheit in diesem Bereich, wie sie sich in den Titeln bereits einer kleinen Auswahl von einschlägigen Lexika, Handbüchern und Gesamtdarstellungen zu unserem Gegenstand deutlich It’s Easy (? ) 171 10 Man vergleiche etwa: The Rolling Stone Encyclopedia of Rock & Roll; The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Rock; Rock-Lexikon; All Music Guide to Rock: The Definitive Guide to Rock, Pop, and Soul; Stairway to Heaven. Kleine Geschichte der Popmusik von Rock’n’Roll bis Techno; Von Mozart bis Madonna. Eine Kulturgeschichte der Popmusik (jeweils m.H.; zu den vollständigen Angaben siehe die Bibliographie). Generell wird in der US-amerikanischen Diktion, auf die wahrscheinlich wichtigste Wurzel der Bewegung Bezug nehmend, eher von Rock ‘n’ Roll gesprochen, während im deutschen Sprachraum entweder - vor allem auch im Hinblick auf die (vermeinten) Unterschiede zwischen Pop und Rock - terminologisch differenzierend vorgegangen, oder eben unter Verwendung des umbrella term Pop vereinheitlichend verfahren wird. 11 Die genannten Songs werden u.a. auch im erwähnten Einführungsbuch Ausgangspunkte und Fokus einzelner Kapitel bzw. Abschnitte darstellen. spiegelt 10 , sei aber doch darauf hingewiesen, dass ich in Übereinstimmung mit Wicke/ Ziegenrückers Handbuch der populären Musik generell den Begriffen ‘Popsong’ bzw. ‘Popmusik’ als “Sammelbezeichnung[en] für alle zeitgenössischen Formen der populären Musik” den Vorzug gebe gegenüber konkurrierenden, zum Teil untereinander querlaufenden Termini wie Rock, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Soul etc., einerseits wegen der auch von den genannten Autoren zu Recht hervorgehobenen, notorischen Abgrenzungsprobleme sowohl zwischen Pop und Rock als auch zwischen spezielleren Formen und Typen populärer Musik, andererseits aber auch mit Blick auf spezifische Gemeinsamkeiten wie Eigenheiten von ‘Popsongs’ in rezeptionsbezogener und zum Teil auch ästhetischer Hinsicht, die sich am hier gewählten Beispiel glänzend illustrieren lassen (vgl. Wicke/ Ziegenrücker 2004: s.v. “Popmusik”). Meine Entscheidung, mich im Folgenden ausgerechnet auf “All You Need Is Love” zu konzentrieren, mag ungeachtet des gewissermaßen prototypischen Status bzw. Charakters dieses Songs zunächst dennoch überraschen, hat es doch auf den ersten Blick den Anschein, als könne man darüber nur wenig Erhebliches, geschweige denn Neues sagen (was auf mich als Lehrer wie Forscher freilich generell einen besonderen Reiz ausübt). In der Tat habe ich in der Vergangenheit in meinen literaturwissenschaftlichen Einführungskursen mit, wie ich glaube, vergleichbar guten Ergebnissen auch etliche andere, zum Teil wesentlich komplexer bzw. ‘literarischer’ anmutende Songs eingesetzt, unter anderen etwa Bob Dylans “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”, Paul McCartneys “Blackbird”, sowie beispielsweise auch Lieder von Jackson Browne (“Something Fine”), Procol Harum (“A Whiter Shade of Pale”), ja sogar Sinatras anrührende Version des dramatischen (Arlen/ Mercer Bar-)Monologs “One for My Baby (and One More for the Road)” - und viele weitere waren bzw. wären ebenso geeignet 11 . Für die wesentlichsten Zielsetzungen des vorliegenden Beitrags indes erweist sich gerade “All You Need” als besonders zweckdienlich, aus verschiedensten Gründen, die von kulturhistorischen Gesichtspunkten über pop- und mediengeschichtliche Aspekte bis hin zu spezifisch literaturwissenschaftlichen wie Hugo Keiper 172 12 Man denke nur - um wenigstens ein aktuelles und zugleich auch besonders eindrucksvolles Beispiel für diesen unaufhaltsamen Prozess der Apotheose zu nennen - an die Eröffnungszeremonie der Olympischen Winterspiele Turin 2006, deren klimaktischer Schlussakt, unter den Auspizien der magdalenenhaften, weißgekleideten Yoko Ono und durchdrungen von der Realpräsenz des Entrückten, im gottesdiensthaft ritualisierten Absingen des prononciert antireligiösen Lennon-Songs “Imagine” durch Seinen Hohepriester, den Ex-Genesis- Mastermind Peter Gabriel, bestand - eine fundamentale, in einer westlich geprägten, als weitgehend säkularisiert empfundenen Gesellschaft und Globalkultur ironischerweise zugleich aber doch auch gänzlich folgerichtige Paradoxie. auch intermedialen Erwägungen reichen, und welche ihrerseits entscheidend dazu beitragen, dass dieser Song sich gerade auch aus literaturdidaktischer Sicht ganz besonders gut für die Arbeit mit Studienanfängern (oder auch mit Schülern der Oberbzw. Kollegstufe) eignet, weil er bei rechter Behandlung imstande ist, eine Fülle höchst grundsätzlicher Einsichten und erhellender Aha-Erlebnisse hervorzutreiben. 3. Dies jedoch bringt mich bereits zu einigen fundamentalen - im Unterricht freilich aus gutem Grund eher an den Schluss der Diskussion gestellten - Fakten zu unserem Lied, welches - für viele wahrscheinlich überraschend - im Wesentlichen aus John Lennons Feder stammt, wie auch der offizielle Co-Autor Paul McCartney unumwunden einräumt und wiederholt betont hat, etwa wenn er sich seinem Biographen Barry Miles gegenüber erinnert: “‘All You Need Is Love’ was John’s song. I threw in a few ideas, as did the other members of the group, but it was largely ad libs like singing ‘She Loves You’ or ‘Greensleeves’ […].” (Miles 1997: 354) Wenigstens zum Teil mag sich daher der bis heute gegebene, geradezu ins Mythische übersteigerte Kultstatus des Songs auch aus dem zunehmend ikonenhaften Status seines Autors (der in der Einspielung auch als Leadsänger fungiert) als eine dem Irdischen längst - und schlussendlich auch buchstäblich - entrückte Poplegende, ja als ein Popgott ableiten, der durch Lennons unzeitigen, für die endgültige Apotheose von Rockstars in der Regel aber unabdingbaren Tod im Jahre 1980 entschieden genährt wurde - dies ein medienwie kulturhistorisch höchst aufschlussreicher Aspekt, auf den im gegebenen Rahmen freilich nicht näher eingegangen werden kann, obgleich er speziell auch in didaktischer Hinsicht reizvolle Perspektiven und Diskussionsmöglichkeiten eröffnet 12 . Zum anderen, insgesamt gesehen wahrscheinlich größeren Teil verdankt sich der nachgerade mythische Status des Songs - der keineswegs folgenlos ist für dessen ungemein aufschlussreiche Rezeption und allgemeines Grundverständnis - freilich auch dem Umstand, dass die Beatles nicht allein It’s Easy (? ) 173 13 Vgl. “Greatest Words” (2006): “‘Greatest Words’ of all time mural now greets arrivals at London Luton Airport”; “‘All You Need is Love’ tops national internet poll”; “The title lyrics from a ‘Beatles’ hit record from the sixties now greet passengers at London Luton Airport thanks to a mural featuring the words ‘All You Need is Love’, displayed on the wall of the arrivals walkway.” 14 Vgl. z.B. Wikipedia, s.v. “All You Need Is Love”: “[The Beatles were a]sked to come up with a song containing a simple message that would be understood by viewers of all nationalities”. “das wohl wichtigste Einzelphänomen der populären Kultur der sechziger Jahre” darstellen, wie Olaf Benzinger in seinem Buch Rock-Hymnen konstatiert (Benzinger 2001: 43), sondern sich einer bis heute ungebrochenen, ja im Zuge der gegenwärtig zu beobachtenden Sixties-Revivals - man denke etwa an die vorjährige Ausstellung zum Summer of Love im Wiener Museums-Quartier - sogar noch gesteigerten Popularität erfreuen. Dazu bemerkt der Beatles-Spezialist Ian MacDonald in der 2005 erschienenen Neuauflage seines bereits zum Klassiker avancierten Werküberblicks Revolution in the Head: “As the 21st century advances, no abatement of popular interest has yet occurred in The Beatles, a product of the 1960s. They always figure uniquely high in polls and voting lists, while books on every conceivable aspect of the group continue to pour out annually.” (MacDonald 2005: xi) So nimmt es denn auch nicht Wunder, dass der - in so bezeichnender wie ironischer Weise dekontextualisierte - Titel des Songs, “All You Need Is Love”, der im Chorus zugleich auch als Hookline fungiert, im Jahre 2005 siegreich aus einer von der südenglischen Flughafenstadt Luton initiierten, großbritannienweiten Internetabstimmung als “the ‘Greatest Words’ of all time” hervorging und mittlerweile bereits auch die am Flughafen Luton ankommenden Reisenden buchstäblich als ‘Schrift an der Wand’ willkommen heißt 13 . Fest steht jedenfalls auch die überragende popwie mediengeschichtliche Bedeutung des Songs, nicht zuletzt als (ein) zentraler Markstein und früher historischer Ausgangsbzw. Kristallisationspunkt der aus heutiger Sicht für die Verbreitung und Rezeption von Popmusik so charakteristischen wie unerlässlichen Tendenz zur Globalisierung, wurde er doch, wie die Fachliteratur übereinstimmend berichtet, im Auftrag der BBC als britischer Beitrag für die am 25. Juni 1967 ausgestrahlte Fernsehshow “Our World” geschrieben, die erste weltweite Live-TV-Satelliten-Übertragung, die von bis zu 400 Millionen Menschen in 24 Ländern gesehen wurde. Die Vorgabe der BBC bestand in der Auflage, das Lied sei angesichts des globalen, des Englischen zum Teil nicht wirklich mächtigen Publikums mit einer einfachen Botschaft zu versehen, die von Zuschauern auf der ganzen Welt verstanden werden konnte 14 . Lennon, für dessen Komposition sich die Beatles einhellig entschieden, kam diesem Ansinnen zwar einerseits entgegen, unterlief, ja dekonstruierte es zugleich aber auch, dies jedoch in so subtiler, hintergrün- Hugo Keiper 174 15 Das Zitat insgesamt scheint aufschlussreich, bietet es doch gleichsam die Innenperspektive des neben und in engster Kooperation mit Lennon agierenden kreativen Motors der Band: “It was John’s song, mainly; one of those we had around at the time. It fits very well, so it might have been written especially for the show (and once we had it, it was certainly tailored to suit the programme). But I’ve got a feeling it was just one of John’s songs that was coming anyway. We went down to the Olympic Studios in Barnes and recorded it, and everyone said, ‘Ah, this is the one we should use for the show’.” (Ibid.) George Martin, der Produzent der Beatles, hinwiederum erinnert sich: “John wrote ‘All You Need Is Love’ especially for the television show. Brian [Epstein, der Manager der Beatles] suddenly whirled in and said that we were to represent Britain in a round-the-world hook-up, and we’d got to write a song. It was a challenge. We had less than two weeks to get it together, […]. John came up with the idea of the song, which was ideal, lovely.” (Ibid.) Indes impliziert auch dies nicht zwangsläufig, dass Lennon nicht einen Song vorschlug, den er ohnehin bereits weitgehend fertig oder zumindest in the works hatte. 16 Vgl. dazu genauer die Zusammenstellung der autorisierten Veröffentlichungen des Songs im Anhang zu diesem Aufsatz. Beim folgend angesprochenen Album Love handelt es sich um das erste (und vielgelobte) autorisierte Remix-Album der Beatles, das vom Exproduzenten der Band, (Sir) George Martin, welcher aufgrund seiner musikalischen Kompetenz und starken Einbindung speziell in das spätere Schaffen der Band vielfach als ‘Fifth Beatle’ bezeichnet wird (vgl. Ingham 2003: 296ff.), und dessen Sohn Giles abgemischt bzw. zum Teil neu arrangiert (“re-worked”) wurde. Ursprünglich wurde die Kompilation für die gleichnamige Bühnenshow des Cirque du Soleil zusammengestellt, wobei der Titel von Album und Show unverkennbar und nachgerade signaturhaft auf die - vermeintliche - Kernaussage unseres Songs und wohl auch die ‘Grundnatur und -ideologie’ der Band selbst verweist. Das Album selbst konnte sich über relativ lange Zeit an vorderen Plätzen der Charts halten und ist bis heute in vielen Plattenabteilungen an prominenter Stelle zum Verkauf aufgelegt. diger Weise, dass gerade die spezifische Konzeption und Machart seines Songs zum entscheidenden Faktor für dessen im Grunde höchst erstaunliche Wirkung und Rezeptionsgeschichte wurde, gleichgültig welchen Umständen sie sich in Wirklichkeit verdanken mag. Paul McCartney jedenfalls, der in Lennons damaliges Schaffen den wohl besten, tiefsten Einblick hatte, bezweifelt, dass Lennon den Song, mag dieser letztlich auch auf das Satelliten- Programm zugeschnitten worden sein, ausschließlich für “Our World” konzipierte: “[…] I’ve got a feeling it was just one of John’s songs that was coming anyway.” (The Beatles Anthology 2000: 257) 15 Auf alle Fälle wurde der Song in der Folge mehrfach mit außerordentlichem Erfolg und in wechselnden medialen Kontexten vermarktet 16 , zuletzt als abschließender Track der im November 2006 veröffentlichten Remix-Kompilation Love, was dem Song zu nunmehr erneuerter Popularität und Aktualität verholfen hat - ein gerade auch aus didaktischer Sicht nicht ganz unwesentlicher Umstand. Ohne Frage hatte (und hat) all dies, wie bereits angedeutet, entscheidenden Einfluss auf die Rezeption des Songs und zugleich auch ursächlich mit dessen Aufstieg zur Hymne der pop and love generation zu tun, zumal “All You Need” den bereits zu Beginn des Jahres 1967 ausgerufenen Summer of Love gewissermaßen auf weltweiter Ebene einläutete, zumindest aber It’s Easy (? ) 175 17 Knapp vor der Ausstrahlung des Songs am 25. Juni hatte südlich von San Francisco - vom 16. bis 18. Juni 1967 - das Monterey (International) Pop (Music) Festival stattgefunden, das erste seiner Art, das gemeinsam mit Sgt Pepper’s gemeinhin als Höhepunkt des Summer of Love angesehen wird und für welches Scott McKenzies “[If You’re Going to] San Francisco”, die Hymne der amerikanischen Hippie- und Flower-Power-Bewegung, eigens geschrieben wurde. Paul McCartney saß übrigens im Board des Festivals, welches über 200.000 Besucher anzog und der wichtigste Vorläufer von Woodstock war. - Auf die überaus folgenreichen rezeptionsgeschichtlichen Implikationen der diversen Veröffentlichungsformen von “All You Need” sowie der dadurch erzeugten, wechselnden bzw. zum Teil auch divergierenden Kontexte des Songs kann hier aus Raumgründen nicht näher eingegangen werden. Es sei diesbezüglich aber auf meinen Beitrag zur Klagenfurter Konferenz “The Summer of Love - It was 40 years ago today: Die Beatles und die Popkultur von 1967” (20.-22. Juni 2007) verwiesen, der sich unter dem Titel “‘There’s nothing you can do …’: Zur Rezeptions- und Wirkungsgeschichte von John Lennons ‘All You Need Is Love’ (1967)” u.a. mit diesem Aspekt gründlich auseinandersetzt. 18 MacDonald (ibid.) sieht “All You Need”, das er künstlerisch als “an inelegant structure” abqualifiziert (261), als symptomatisch für eine beklagenswerte Niedergangsphase der Beatles: er spricht von einer “slapdash atmosphere”, in welcher die Songs nach Sgt Pepper’s entstanden und eingespielt wurden, und fährt fort: “The fact was, though, that The Beatles were now doing wilfully substandard work: paying little attention to musical values and settling for lyric first-thoughts on the principle that everything, however haphazard, meant something and if it didn’t - so what? […].” (261) Auch wenn dieser über die Beatlesspezifischen Hintergründe und Interna insgesamt wohlinformierte Autor in einigen Punkten nicht ganz Unrecht haben mag, scheint mir gerade im Fall von “All You Need” sein Urteil im Hinblick auf das Produkt als solches, und zwar sowohl in konzeptioneller Hinsicht als auch bezüglich der Wirkung des Songs, ungerecht und unzutreffend. dessen Globalisierung beförderte 17 . Die Diskussion dieser Hintergründe vermag bei den Studierenden daher auch einen geschärften Sinn für kulturhistorische Zusammenhänge und Einbettungen wie auch für produktionsästhetische Aspekte und mediale constraints zu wecken, die bis hin zu den dominierenden Rezeptionsweisen einzelner Texte reichen und diese prägen. Insoweit ist zugleich auch Ian MacDonald zuzustimmen, der seine prononciert kritische Auseinandersetzung mit dem Song wie folgt einleitet: “One of The Beatles’ less deserving hits, Lennon’s A LL Y OU N EED IS L OVE owes more of its standing to its local historical associations than to its inspiration which […] is desultory.” (2005: 261) Wenn MacDonald in seinen Ausführungen (2005: 261-63) “All You Need” als desultory bezeichnet, den Song somit als oberflächlich, unzusammenhängend und ziellos charakterisiert, ja mehr noch als “[t]hrown together” und “sloppy substandard work”, ist dieser Einschätzung freilich entschieden zu widersprechen 18 . Indes illustriert sie immerhin in geradezu exemplarischer Weise die besonders in der Anfangsphase der Rezeption zahlreichen skeptischen bis ablehnenden Kritikerstimmen, die den Song als in jeder Hinsicht banal und utopisch abtaten, denen allerdings Benzinger - zu Recht, wie ich meine - entgegenhält: “Das Lied, ein musikalisches Patchwork auf höchstem Niveau, hat natürlich seine Kritiker mittlerweile längst selbst widerlegt.” (Benzinger 2001: 43) Gleichwohl liegt die Sache nicht ganz so einfach, denn Hugo Keiper 176 19 Da es im vorliegenden Beitrag schon mit Blick auf die literaturdidaktische Zielsetzung vor allem um die textliche Dimension von “All You Need” geht, wird im Folgenden auf die musikalische Dimension und Gestaltung wie auch auf das Arrangement des Songs nicht im Detail eingegangen, obgleich diese Komponente aus intermedialer Sicht natürlich hinsichtlich der Konzeption wie der Rezeption eine wichtige, ja unhintergehbare Rolle spielt. (Siehe dazu aber genauer meinen Beitrag zur Klagenfurter Tagung [vgl. Fn. 17 oben].) Darüber hinaus sind - sieht man von deren höchst komplexen Funktionen und Wirkungen ab, die bislang nur unzureichend erkannt wurden - die musikalische und kompositorische Gestaltung und Konzeption des Songs als solche bereits hinreichend genau und in den meisten grundsätzlichen Punkten auch einigermaßen adäquat diskutiert worden, so u.a. bei Benzinger (2001: 41-43), wo sich neben einer genaueren musikologischen Auseinandersetzung auch eine knappe Beschreibung der visuellen Darbietungsweise und Inszenierung des Songs im Rahmen von “Our World” findet. Eine detaillierte musikologische Analyse findet sich weiters bei Stevens (2002: 216-222), der allerdings kaum auf den Schlussteil eingeht (bei ihm ‘Coda’ genannt). - Zu den unterschiedlichen Kompositionsstilen Lennons [“‘horizontal’ (harmonic, dissonant)”] und McCartneys [“vertical (melodic, consonant)”] vgl. auch MacDonald (2005: 12-13, und 261 speziell zu “All You Need”). 20 Vgl. MacDonald (2005: 262): “The communality of the hippies, like that of the 17th-century nonconformists to whom they looked for precedents, was essentially egalitarian. […] If the lotus-eating delusion of an egalitarian life of ease was seductive, its concomitant worship of benign chance was positively enervating.” 21 “[…] The end result was this relatively simple song.” - vgl. “All You Need Is Love” (2006) (m.H.). Auch Benzinger (2001: 42f.) spricht von einer “einfache[n] Botschaft” (43) und konstatiert: “Der Titel des Songs spiegelt sein Programm und seinen Inhalt: Alles, was man braucht, ist Liebe.” (42) die nunmehr überwiegende Wertschätzung des Songs auch in Kritikerkreisen bezieht sich primär auf dessen musikalische Qualitäten, einerseits als glänzendes Beispiel der - gegenüber dem eher ‘vertikalen’ Kompositionsstil McCartneys - für Lennon charakteristischen ‘horizontalen’, in kleinen Intervallen um bestimmte Töne kreisenden Kompositionsweise und - vielfach ironischen - Melodieführung (vgl. Benzinger 2001: 41); andererseits aber auch auf die grandiose, in geradezu karnevalesker Weise subversiv anmutende Montagebzw. Collagetechnik des Songs 19 . Demgegenüber, und unabhängig von der ohnedies verblüffend seltenen genaueren bzw. tiefergehenden Auseinandersetzung mit einzelnen textlichen Aspekten, werden Aussage und Ideologie von “All You Need” von Kritikern wie Befürwortern mit bemerkenswerter Einhelligkeit im Sinne eines textlich krude, ja gänzlich naiv anmutenden, sloganhaften message songs für einfach gestrickte Gemüter interpretiert, als simpel und eingängig, hymnisch und eskapistisch zugleich wirkendes Destillat der Hippie-Philosophie, das sich hervorragend als theme song der love generation und Flower-Power-Bewegung eigne, die sich in selbstgefälliger Anti-Establishment-Pose flachsinnig der Propagierung einer selbstgenügsam entrückten Lotusesser-Mentalität verschrieben habe, wie MacDonald sarkastisch anmerkt 20 . So ist denn auch verschiedentlich die Rede von “[t]his relatively simple song” 21 , “that […] expressed the mood of the time, with Flower Power and all that whole move- It’s Easy (? ) 177 22 “‘All You Need Is Love’ went straight to Number One. I think that it expressed the mood of the time, with Flower Power and all that whole movement. It really was ‘all you need is love’ time.” - Neil Aspinall (Assistent und Road Manager der Beatles), zitiert in: The Beatles Anthology (2000: 257) (m.H.). 23 Naturgemäß lässt sich die hier nur grob skizzierte Publikationsgeschichte des Songs im Unterricht, speziell auch in der Schule, zu einer ansprechenden kulturhistorischen Einheit ausbauen. Zur Publikationsgeschichte und deren Auswirkungen auf die Rezeption von “All You Need” vgl. genauer meinen Beitrag zur Klagenfurter Konferenz (siehe Fn. 17). 24 “Interestingly, neither [Penny Lane nor Strawberry Fields Forever] is as vivid in current popular consciousness as All You Need Is Love, Lennon’s casual anthem which is wheeled out whenever the troubled world needs some there-there reassurance.” (Ingham 2003: 59) ment” 22 . Selbst George Harrison und Lennon selbst leisteten einer dergestalt simplifizierenden Deutung in locker hingeworfenen Ad-hoc-Statements wiederholt Vorschub (vgl. etwa The Beatles Anthology 2000: 257 [Harrison] und 335 [Lennon]), ganz zu schweigen davon, dass auch der 1968 herausgekommene Zeichentrickfilm Yellow Submarine einer Rezeption des Songs im Verstande einer geradezu magischen Beschwörung der Macht der Liebe noch zusätzliche Nahrung wie - scheinbare - Autorisierung verliehen haben mag, indem dort die Beatles durch Absingen des zaubermantrahaften “All You Need Is Love” die Bösewichter des Films, die Blue Meanies, überwinden und damit zugleich auch ihre Doppelgänger in Sgt Pepper’s Band retten 23 . Und schließlich zementiert, neben vielen anderen, weitgehend gleichlautenden Stimmen, auch The Rough Guide to the Beatles, ein weitverbreitetes Referenzwerk, eine derartig vereinfachende Deutung, indem er zwar konzediert, “All You Need” sei in überragender Weise “vivid in current popular consciousness”, den Song zugleich aber nicht einmal in den Kanon der 50 nach Ansicht des Verfassers, Chris Ingham, “Greatest Beatle Songs” aufnimmt und darüber hinaus abtut als “Lennon’s casual anthem which is wheeled out whenever the troubled world needs some there-there reassurance” 24 . Obschon Letzteres sachlich zwar zutreffen mag, setzt es gleichwohl die dominante Rezeptionsweise und die adäquate Auslegung des Songs, insbesondere jedoch des Textes selbst, in höchst kurzschlüssiger Weise ineins. Im Übrigen konvergiert diese Art der Auslegung, die ich unbeschadet ihrer oppositionellen Attitüde die ‘affirmative’ oder - in Anlehnung an die Diktion des Rough Guide - die ‘there-there-Interpretation’ des Songs nennen möchte, exakt mit der in aller Regel einhelligen ersten bzw. spontanen Reaktion der Studierenden, wenn man ihnen - zunächst ohne den verschriftlichten Text vorzulegen - das Lied vorspielt: Denn ungeachtet des Auftrags, möglichst genau auf den Text zu hören, gelangen auch sie - wie übrigens auch amerikanische College-Studenten (vgl. Wolfe/ Haefner 1996) - weitgehend einschränkungslos zu dem Schluss, der Song habe neben der Liebe gleichsam ‘empowerment’ zum Thema, indem er - wurzelnd in der Hugo Keiper 178 25 Eine von mir selbst zu Beginn des Sommersemesters 2007 in Graz durchgeführte Befragung in zwei Kursen (unter je 26 Teilnehmern [1] eines Anfängerkurses und [2] eines Seminars zur Poplyrik mit insgesamt gut bis hervorragend informierten Teilnehmern), die u.a. “All You Need” zum Gegenstand hatte, erbrachte den Ergebnissen der US-Studie durchaus vergleichbare Resultate (wobei der Song allen von mir Befragten bekannt war). Keine einzige der Antworten (die sich diesfalls allerdings auf die unaufgefrischte Erinnerung der Probanden stützten) hatte die Komplexität des Textes auch nur ansatzweise erfasst; als thematische Schlüsselwörter wurden vor allem ‘Liebe’, ‘Möglichkeiten’, ‘Mut’, oder auch ‘Vertrauen’ genannt. 26 Zur Fokussierung des folgenden Abschnitts auf die textliche Dimension vgl. Fn. 19 oben. Beschwörung der einzigartigen, exklusiven Allmacht der Liebe - die unbegrenzten Möglichkeiten menschlichen Tuns und menschlicher Selbstverwirklichung etc. preise 25 . Nun mag die simplifizierende Sichtweise der ‘there-there-Interpretation’ zwar durchaus im Sinne der medial motivierten Vorgabe seitens der BBC liegen, zumal “All You Need” auf den ersten Blick (oder genauer: aufs erste Hinhören) zumindest auf der textlichen Ebene tatsächlich einfach und hymnisch wirkt - anthemic, wie man immer wieder liest -, doch ist bedauerlicherweise die Rezeption bzw. Ausdeutung des Songs, selbst durch Kenner der Popmusik und speziell auch der Beatles, auf dieser Ebene steckengeblieben, ja regelrecht eingefroren worden. Dies greift jedoch entschieden zu kurz, denn bei genauerem Hinsehen zeigt sich überraschenderweise, dass “All You Need” ein in jeder Hinsicht erstaunlich hohes Maß an Komplexität erkennen lässt, speziell auch auf der Ebene des Textes, nicht zuletzt aber auch im so vielschichtigen wie ambivalenten Zusammenspiel von Text und musikalischer Gestaltung, was dem Song darüber hinaus aber auch per se beträchtliches künstlerisch-literarisches Interesse verleiht 26 . 4. Bevor wir nun im abschließenden Teil einen genaueren Blick auf den Text selbst werfen wollen, ist an dieser Stelle wenigstens kurz darauf hinzuweisen, dass die einleitend bereits angesprochene - dem letztlich intermedialen Charakter dramatischer Texte nicht ganz unähnliche - Möglichkeit der doppelten bzw. mehrfachen Rezeptionsweise von Popsongs ein so fundamentales wie folgenreiches Phänomen darstellt, das gründlichste Aufmerksamkeit und vor allem auch entsprechende empirische Studien verdiente, das sich im Falle von “All You Need” letztlich aber doch auf die Alternative von auditiver und lesender Rezeption (bzw. allenfalls begleitendem Mitlesen) zuspitzen lässt. Unbeschadet der audiovisuellen Erstausstrahlung via TV-Satellit und des Films Yellow Submarine hat dabei Erstere - nämlich die auditive Form - die Rezeption des Songs wohl bis heute vor It’s Easy (? ) 179 27 Aus der Sicht heutiger Rezipienten bzw. der heute dominierenden Rezeptionsweisen und -möglichkeiten ist darauf zu verweisen, dass der Film Yellow Submarine gegenwärtig nicht bzw. nur zu überhöhten Sammlerpreisen erhältlich, daher in der Regel allenfalls dem Enthusiasten über einzelne, cineastisch orientierte Videotheken zugänglich ist, während die Videoaufzeichnung des “Our World”-Auftritts, nachdem sie über lange Zeit so gut wie unzugänglich war, nunmehr zwar als Videostream (auf YouTube und einzelnen BitTorrent- Websites) angesehen werden kann, in diesem Fall aber ebenfalls nur dem gezielt und beharrlich Suchenden, nicht aber dem ‘normalen Konsumenten’ zur Kenntnis gelangen mag. Abgesehen davon findet sich das Video nur auf dem - nicht eben billigen - DVD-Box- Set The Beatles Anthology, das 1995 als Begleitbzw. streng genommen als Vorläuferdokumentation zum gleichnamigen Buch zunächst als Mini-TV-Serie kompiliert und ausgestrahlt wurde - auch dies heute ausgesprochenes Fan-Material. 28 Dies geht auch überraschend deutlich aus den von mir bereits durchgeführten Umfragen unter meinen KursteilnehmerInnen hervor. 29 Da es sich bei Begriffen wie Verse, Hook, Hookline oder auch Bridge, Chorus etc. um fest etablierte, mittlerweile eingedeutschte Fachbegriffe der Populärmusik(forschung) handelt, werden diese Termini hier und im Folgenden nicht als Fremdwörter behandelt. Vgl. etwa die betreffenden Stichwörter bei Wicke/ Ziegenrücker (2004). 30 Freilich ist dies aus der Sicht des Literaturwissenschaftlers gedacht, für den, prinzipiell gesehen, jedes Wort eines lyrischen Textes weitgehend gleichwertig ist. Demgegenüber kommt es speziell im kommerziellen Songwriting vor allem auf Hook bzw. Hookline an, welche(r) den Song in der Regel thematisch ‘auf den Punkt bringt’, während der Verse die dergestalt ‘herausdestillierte’ Thematik lediglich illustriert bzw. ‘durchführt’, daher meist, und sogar grundsätzlich, auch nicht als wirklich wesentlich oder ausschlaggebend angesehen wird, zumindest aber zweitrangig erscheint. Daraus leitet sich freilich auch die Möglichkeit eines mehr oder minder subversiven oder dialektischen Spiels mit diesen Konventionen ab. - Zu Hooks vgl. MacDonald (2005: 481), der im Glossary definiert: “Hook. Sixties term for a feature of a song, arrangement or production which catches the attention, remains in the allem geprägt 27 , wie überhaupt auch im MTV-Zeitalter dem Hören von Popsongs im Regelfall nach wie vor Priorität selbst gegenüber Videoclips zukommen dürfte 28 . Nicht ganz zu Unrecht wird man sich in diesem Zusammenhang an Derridas folgenreiche Überlegungen zum Logozentrismus und bezüglich der Priorität des (gesprochenen) Worts oder aber der Schrift erinnert fühlen und auch im Unterricht darauf verweisen können. Hier sei nur soviel gesagt, dass - wie wir alle wohl aus eigener Erfahrung wissen - die Rezeption von Popsongs sich gerade auf der textlichen Ebene häufig eher in halbem Hinhören, ja mitunter nachgerade im Vorbeihören, erschöpft, welches allenfalls (besonders ins Ohr gehende) Textfragmente, Bedeutungssplitter und bestimmte Schlüsselwörter aufnimmt und verarbeitet. Dabei handelt es sich vor allem natürlich um jingles sowie Reimwörter und -phrasen, insbesondere des - im Regelfall das zentrale Thema eines Popsongs transportierenden, es in meist griffiger Form komprimierenden - Chorus bzw. genauer: des sogenannten Hook (oder auch Hookline), womit aber diese Elemente rezipientenseitig gegenüber anderen Textteilen vielfach ‘über Gebühr’ aufgewertet werden, was meist ganz besonders auf Kosten des sogenannten Verse 29 geht, des Strophenkörpers also, der zudem oftmals, zumal von non-natives, nicht oder nicht vollständig bzw. korrekt verstanden wird 30 . Dass allerdings umgekehrt derartige Rezeptionsmechanismen und Hugo Keiper 180 mind, and is hence liable to be hummed or whistled.” Genauer zu verschiedenen Typen von Hooks und deren Einsatz bzw. Funktion im commercial songwriting, vgl. aus heutiger Sicht vor allem auch Braheny (2006: 92f.). 31 Dass die Entwicklung einer solchen Ästhetik dem adäquaten Verstehen von Popsongs als literarischem wie intermedialem Phänomen sowohl im wissenschaftlichen als auch im didaktischen Kontext nur förderlich sein kann, ja letzten Endes für beide Bereiche unabdingbar ist, kann nicht genug betont werden. Im Grunde sind vergleichbare Überlegungen auch für das Drama, speziell aber auch das Hörspiel, anzustellen, wobei im Falle des Dramas, oder jedenfalls dramatischer Klassiker, zwar die lesende Rezeption heute dominieren mag, auf der anderen Seite aber gerade Film und Fernsehen bzw. DVD das Pendel zum Teil auch in die andere Richtung ausschlagen lassen. Daher wäre in diesem Fall zumindest eine Zweigleisigkeit der Betrachtung wünschenswert und erforderlich, während im Fall von Hörspielen, deren Texte in schriftlicher Form meist überhaupt nicht zugänglich sind, die Überlegungen noch viel stärker als selbst im Falle von Popsongs in diese Richtung gehen müssten, zumal ja die Texte der allermeisten Popsongs wenigstens sekundär im Internet (und vielfach natürlich auch in CD-Booklets bzw. auf LP-Covers) zugänglich sind. 32 Dem hochinteressanten und überaus komplexen Aspekt der Auslegung und Interpretation des ‘Songs als solchem’ in den immer mehr zu einer eigenständigen Kunstform sich entwickelnden Videoclips bzw. Musikvideos wurde bislang von der Forschung vergleichsweise wenig Aufmerksamkeit geschenkt, ebenso wie der eigentümlichen, an den Monolog im Drama bzw. die Opernarie erinnernden Konvention des Absingens des Songs im Kontext der fiktionalen Welt solcher Videoclips. -gewohnheiten seitens der Poplyriker bzw. lyricists und Songwriter gezielt, zumindest aber halbbewusst, für ihre Zwecke und zur Erzeugung mitunter äußerst komplexer Effekte genutzt werden können, liegt auf der Hand, ebenso wie derlei Effekte ihrerseits eine in ihrer Gesamtwirkung auf die Rezipienten vielfach schwer abschätzbare Eigendynamik entwickeln können, sodass die tatsächliche Rezeption leicht entgegen der ursprünglichen bzw. ‘eigentlichen’ Intention insbesondere des Texters verlaufen mag. Eine spezifische Ästhetik des Popsongs (bzw. der entsprechenden Vertextungsverfahren und -strategien) wird nach meinem Dafürhalten hier ihren Ausgangspunkt zu suchen haben 31 . Denn selbst bei intensivem Bemühen um ein möglichst genaues Textverständnis wird der flüchtig-ephemere, im einzelnen Rezeptionsakt unumkehrbar sequenzielle Charakter der auditiven Rezeption die genannten Mechanismen jedenfalls tendenziell wirksam werden lassen, was nicht ohne Folgen für das Textverstehen bleiben kann (wobei sich bei der vergleichsweise noch vielschichtigeren Form der audiovisuellen bzw. performativen Präsentation zusätzlich noch eine weitere Diversifizierung, damit aber auch eine zusätzliche Potenzierung, der bereits hier wirksamen Komplexität des intermedialen Textes einstellen wird 32 ). In jedem Fall wird demgegenüber die ganz auf den Sprachtext fokussierte lesende Rezeption von Poplyrik, die indes im Allgemeinen ein allenfalls sekundäres (und/ oder begleitendes) Phänomen darstellt, mit Sicherheit ganz anders verlaufen, damit aber auch andere Möglichkeiten des Verstehens eröffnen. Es ist daher gewiss kein Zufall, wenn die Studierenden selbst nach wiederholtem Vorspielen eines Songs just an jenem Punkt, wo ich mehr oder It’s Easy (? ) 181 33 Im Hinblick sowohl auf solch intermediale bzw. plurimediale Texte wie Dramen als auch den gesamten Bereich der sog. ‘oral literature’, von der Ballade bis zum Hörspiel und eben dem Popsong, ist hier - analog zur Entwicklung einer entsprechenden Ästhetik - ein weitreichendes, ja radikales methodisch-theoretisches Umdenken gefordert, ein Paradigmenwechsel im eigentlichen Wortsinne, der bislang nicht einmal in Ansätzen erkennbar ist: Gegenüber der gegenwärtig meist im Zentrum der Überlegungen stehenden ‘Idealrezeption’, wie sie sich als Potenzial aus dem schriftlichen Text durch genaues Studium (und durch textwissenschaftlich gebildete Leser) ableiten lässt, müsste vor allem aber, mit den entsprechenden Konsequenzen für die Praxis des Umgangs mit solchen Texten, verstärkt einer Verbindung empirischer mit kognitionswissenschaftlichen Erkenntnissen zur tatsächlichen Textrezeption Rechnung getragen werden, was geradezu zwangsläufig auch die Entwicklung neuer wissenschaftlicher Betrachtungsweisen solcher Texte mit sich brächte. (Derrida - auch als Vorreiter bzw. Mitinitiator und Multiplikator einer, so gesehen, Fehlentwicklung - lässt abermals grüßen.) Mitzureflektieren wären aber auch die daraus erwachsenden Konsequenzen für Rezeptionstheorie und -forschung generell. In welche Richtung eine solche Wissenschaft gehen könnte, die nicht mehr die hypothetisch hypostasierten, ideal(isiert)en Leseakte eines spezialisierten, hochgradig elitären Leserkreises absolut setzt und zum verbindlichen Maßstab erhebt (zugleich aber meist die dahinter steckenden Voraussetzungen unreflektiert im Dunkeln lässt), die damit aber auch das ‘Lesen’ in seine historische wie mediale Dimension (wieder) einsetzt, ließe sich etwa am Beispiel von Kintgen (1996) ablesen, der in seiner Untersuchung der Lesestrategien der Tudorzeit die bedeutenden Differenzen aufzeigt, die zwischen dem Lesen (von Intellektuellen) damals und heute bestehen: Kintgen argumentiert plausibel, dass vielfach vor allem im Hinblick auf griffige, sentenziöse Formulierungen gelesen wurde, wie sie ja auch im Unterricht der Zeit eine gewichtige Rolle spielten, die vielfach sogleich notiert wurden (wie dies beispielsweise ja auch Hamlet nach der Begegnung mit dem Geist tut [1.5.92ff: Riverside- Zählung]). Idealerweise sollten sich natürlich beide Ansätze bzw. Perspektiven (bezogen jeweils auf Potenzial und tatsächliche Realität der Rezeption) sinnvoll ergänzen. - Insofern, als viele writers ja beim Schreiben von Songs durchaus (auch) von ihren Texten ausgehen bzw. geleitet werden, ist im gegebenen Zusammenhang ein aufschlussreicher Aspekt unseres Fallbeispiels aber auch darin zu sehen, dass zwischen Produktionsbzw. Produzentenseite und Intentionalität einerseits und der tatsächlichen Rezeption eines (fertigen bzw. fertig produzierten) Songs andererseits mitunter gewaltige Diskrepanzen, Spannungen und Widersprüche entstehen können, wie nicht zuletzt ja auch die Rezeptionsgeschichte von “All You Need” deutlich aufzeigt. minder insistent nach der genauen Textbedeutung nachzuhaken beginne, die Vorlage des verschriftlichten Textes einfordern, auf den, wie im classroom alsbald deutlich wird, zugleich auch die Methoden und analytischen Verfahren gegenwärtiger Literaturwissenschaft weitgehend abgestellt sind 33 . (In der Unterrichtssituation, wo man sich im Literatur-, viel mehr noch aber im Englischunterricht, auf eine überwiegend bis ausschließlich textbzw. sprachbezogene Behandlung von Popsongs konzentrieren wird [müssen], wäre der im Hinblick auf Ästhetik, Intention und Rezeption gegebene Ausnahmebzw. Sondercharakter eines solchen Zugangs jedenfalls mitzureflektieren, zumindest aber kurz zu thematisieren.) Im classroom, wo ich dem Song und seiner Erarbeitung (bzw. vergleichbaren Einstiegen in die Literaturbetrachtung und -analyse) üblicherweise etwa zwei Sitzungen zu je eineinhalb Stunden widme, nähere ich mich der Problematik zunächst durch alleiniges Vorspielen einer Audioversion des Hugo Keiper 182 34 Sollte eine solche nicht zur Hand sein, ließe sich, wie weiter oben bereits angedeutet, über das Internet auch der Videostream, etwa auf YouTube (www.youtube.com), leicht anhören, vorzugsweise vielleicht zunächst mit geschlossenen Augen. betreffenden Songs, dem nach einer vorläufigen, so weit als möglich spontanen, ungesteuerten Diskussion der dabei erfahrenen Eindrücke ein close reading und dessen eingehende, auch literarkritische Diskussion folgen, die - im Sinne einer systematischen Näherung an den Text, und, soweit möglich, vorbereitet durch Gruppenbzw. Partnerarbeit - von drei grundlegenden Fragen ausgeht: nämlich erstens nach der dem Text zugrundeliegenden Kommunikationsbzw. Sprechsituation, zweitens nach dessen Aussage bzw. ‘Inhalt’, sowie schließlich drittens nach Form und Struktur des Textes, wobei sich diese heuristischen Aspekte bzw. Näherungen freilich alsbald als eng, ja in untrennbarer Wechselwirkung miteinander verknüpft erweisen. Mit Gewinn setze ich dabei meist auch die Übersetzung ins Deutsche als nützliches Heuristikum ein: Im gegebenen Fall zum Beispiel fördert sie die durchaus folgenreiche Ambiguität des you in Chorus und Verse zutage, nämlich als Adressatenbzw. Rezipientenansprache im Singular oder auch Plural zum einen oder aber, zum anderen, als generalisierend-distanzierendes Indefinitpronomen ‘man’, was sich im weiteren Verlauf als nicht unwesentlich für die Wirkung bzw. Rezeption des Songs und vor allem auch deren - letzten Endes dialektische - Dynamik erweist. Im gegebenen Rahmen muss ich mich freilich mit einer knappen Skizze der wesentlichsten Eckpunkte und Resultate einer solchen Diskussion begnügen, die auf detaillierte Herleitungen, wie die didaktische Situation sie erfordert, verzichtet und sich ganz auf die Aussagestruktur des Verse, speziell der jeweils entscheidenden ersten Zeile jeder Strophe, konzentriert. (Eine präzise Transkription des Textes in der Version der Magical Mystery Tour mit Annotationen zur musikalischen Struktur findet sich im Anhang, doch wäre es fraglos wünschenswert, wenn sich die LeserInnen anfangs ausschließlich anhand einer Audioversion 34 die relevanten Details des Songs als intermedialem Phänomen in Erinnerung rufen und sich dergestalt zugleich auch von der Stichhaltigkeit meiner Argumente überzeugen wollten. Daher empfiehlt es sich auch, den Song an diesem Punkt zunächst nur zu hören und eigenständig, vielleicht auch nochmals nach einer Wiederholung, über seine Aussage zu reflektieren, um solcherart weiters auch die Situation und Ausgangslage der Studierenden besser nachvollziehen zu können.) Was zunächst die Makrostruktur betrifft, orientiert “All You Need” sich im Wesentlichen zwar an der klassischen Struktur des Popsongs mit den zum Teil variabel wiederholbaren Hauptelementen von Intro, Verse (bzw. Strophe), (transitional) Bridge, Chorus/ Hookline (bzw. Refrain) und schließlich dem - diesfalls breit ausgespielten, musikalisch höchst komplexen - Ausklang mit Ausblende. Indes wird diese Grundform in signifikanter Weise It’s Easy (? ) 183 variiert, indem im Anschluss an die instrumentale, die Marseillaise in verfremdender Verlangsamung aufgreifende Intro im Bläsersatz die dreifach, jeweils in Dreiergruppen wiederholte Quasi-Signation love, love love das titelgebende Grundthema des Songs anschlägt. Gleichsam als Reprise ist diese chorische Signation - in den schriftlichen Notationen meist fehlend - auch den einzelnen Strophen sowie dem instrumentalen Mittelteil kontrapunktisch unterlegt bzw. der lethargisch-einlullenden Lead-Stimme Lennons (vgl. auch Benzinger 2001: 42) entgegengestellt, während zwar die transitional Bridge - It’s easy - auf die erste, der Chorus aber erst auf die zweite Strophe folgt. Der Bau der drei Strophen wiederum ist in strukturell-syntaktischer Hinsicht weitgehend parallel, ja in den Strophen 1 und 2 nahezu identisch, wobei freilich stets alle folgenden Zeilen des Verse die Aussagestruktur der allerersten Verse-Zeile jeweils in elliptischer Verknappung, mit dem Beginn “Nothing”, aufgreifen, Zeile drei zudem eine Antithese enthält, während die letzte Strophe auf eine solch antithetische Wendung verzichtet - all dies Merkmale, die, speziell im intermedialen Text und bei auditiver Rezeption, in ihrem gekonnt orchestrierten Zusammenspiel wesentliche Konsequenzen für die spezifische Wirkung und folglich auch für die Rezeption des Songs haben. Doch wenden wir uns nun der eigentlichen Krux des Songs, nämlich der genauen Bedeutung und Aussagestruktur des Verse zu, die entgegen dem ersten Anschein bzw. dem auditiven Eindruck äußerst komplex gefasst bzw. formuliert ist. Unterzieht man, stellvertretend für die folgenden Zeilen, die Aussage der ersten, Richtung und Ton des Verse vorgebenden Verszeile - “[t]here’s nothing you can do that can’t be done” - einer eingehenderen, aussagelogischen und grammatikalischen Analyse, so erweist sie sich bei entsprechender Umformung bzw. Paraphrase, auf deren schrittweise Herleitung ich hier - im Gegensatz zu meinen Kursen - verzichte, im logischen Kern der Aussage rasch als Tautologie, als selbstevidentes ‘no-na’-Statement sozusagen, dessen Kernbedeutung sich auf die gleichsam programmatische Formel bringen lässt: “Du kannst nur tun, was getan werden kann” bzw. - mit dem Implikat ‘ohnehin’ - “Du kannst ohnehin nichts tun, was nicht getan werden kann”. Anders gewendet, und zwar im Deutschen unter Substitution des nunmehr eher passenden Indefinitpronomens ‘man’ und auf die analog gebauten folgenden Zeilen ausgeweitet: “Man kann nichts tun, singen etc., was nicht getan, gesungen etc. werden kann”. Dies jedoch, in seiner ‘eigentlichen’, aussagelogischen Bedeutung verdunkelt durch die vertrackt verklausulierte, den simplen Sachverhalt komplizierende Form der Aussage, behauptet im Grunde das genaue Gegenteil der auf die schrankenlose Allmacht der Liebe abhebenden ‘there-there-Interpretation’ bzw. (scheinbar) auch von Intro und Chorus, sodass die Liebe bzw. deren behauptete irreduzible Notwendigkeit nun plötzlich als Rückzugsfeld vor der frustrierenden conditio humana weitgehend beschränkter Möglichkeiten menschlicher Hugo Keiper 184 Entfaltung und menschlichen Potenzials ausgewiesen bzw. propagiert wird. Bei den Studierenden löst diese aus der präzisen Analyse der Textbedeutung abgeleitete Einsicht meist ein erkennbares Aha-Erlebnis aus, ein Umschlagen ihres Textverstehens, das ihre bisherige, naive Wahrnehmung des Textes, aber auch des Songs insgesamt, unwiderruflich verändert, das zugleich aber auch gerade im Kontext eines Literaturkurses, speziell aber nicht nur eines Anfängerkurses, die Leistungsfähigkeit und, wie ich glaube, Nutzen und Berechtigung einer spezifisch literaturbzw. textwissenschaftlichen Näherung bzw. Betrachtungsweise legitimiert, jedenfalls aber den Studierenden erfahrungsmäßig unmittelbar evident werden lässt. Auf Grundlage dieser neuen, nun gewissermaßen ins Negativ der etablierten, gleichsam spontanen Sichtweise verkehrten Interpretation des Verse tritt dieser zugleich aber - zumindest auf den ersten Augenschein - unversehens in ein Spannungsverhältnis, ja in prononcierten Widerspruch zu Intro und Chorus bzw. Hook als den - nicht zuletzt auch musikalisch betrachtet - rahmenden und darüber hinaus auch in thematischer Hinsicht rezeptionssteuernd, ja -präjudizierend fungierenden Elementen des Textes. Bei nochmaliger, genauerer Reflexion freilich erweist sich die aufgezeigte Bedeutungsverschiebung eher als ein Kippen der Gesamtaussage nach Art eines Gestaltwechsels, der letztlich auch Intro, Bridge und Chorus bzw. Refrain in den Strudel seiner semiotic slippage zieht: Die zwischen der vertraulich-direkten Anrede Du bzw. Ihr und dem distanziert-sarkastischen man flottierende Stimme der de facto implizit bleibenden Sprechinstanz, die im Vortrag allerdings in der ihrerseits widersprüchlich-ambivalenten Figur bzw. Stimme John Lennons Gestalt und gleichsam den imaginierten Körper eines Sprechers gewinnt, wird nun aber, so gesehen, gleichfalls bzw. in analoger Weise zur konsistenten voice: vom vermeintlich blauäugigen, im weltfremden, universellen Liebestaumel befangenen Propagandisten einer eskapistischen Hippie-Ideologie mutiert sie zur Stimme des die politischsozialen Verhältnisse nüchtern-distanziert durchschauenden Zynikers oder schlüpft gar, in quasi Brecht’scher Selbstdistanzierung und Zeigegeste, in die Rolle des Establishmentpropagandisten oder gar -politikers. 5. In dieser gewissermaßen selbstdekonstruierenden Sinnbewegung, die dem Text als potenziell mehrfach gestufter Bedeutungsbzw. Gestaltwechsel eingeschrieben ist, bleiben nun aber beide der angesprochenen Grundperspektiven bzw. Lesarten dialektisch aufeinander bezogen und verquicken sich in signifikanter Weise, die letztlich als ‘Aufhebung’ der beschriebenen Spannung in einer tiefergehenden ironischen Brechung gedeutet werden kann, welche zugleich auch - wiewohl zunächst bloß als eine der Einlösung It’s Easy (? ) 185 35 Wie bereits mehrfach angedeutet - und dies ist ein so wichtiger wie unaufhebbarer Aspekt der hier vorgetragenen Überlegungen -, steht die tatsächliche Rezeption von Popsongs freilich im Spannungsfeld zwischen den Polen eines oberflächlichen oder gar weitgehenden ‘Vorbeihörens’ einerseits, welches allenfalls Hooks abspeichert, und andererseits der geradezu obsessiven Auseinandersetzung mit dem Text und seinen (verborgenen) Bedeutungsnuancen bzw. kryptischen Implikationen, die indes speziell im Falle der Beatles gerade in den 1960ern und -70ern ein ebenso wesentliches und verbreitetes Rezeptionsphänomen darstellt - bemerkenswerterweise freilich ausgerechnet nicht im Falle von “All You Need”. (Vgl. dazu genauer auch meinen Beitrag zur oben erwähnten Klagenfurter Konferenz.) Freilich ist meiner Ansicht und Erfahrung nach eine oberflächliche, flüchtige oder selektive Rezeption keineswegs auf Popsongs (und Laien als ‘Leser’) beschränkt, somit allenfalls im graduellen Sinne als bedeutsame Differenz zur Rezeption anderer lyrischer oder literarischer Formen (insbesondere natürlich auch aufgeführter dramatischer Texte) anzusehen. 36 Man denke etwa an die selbstdekonstruierende, die scheinbare These der drei Quartette - wenngleich nur bedingt - dementierende bzw. ins Gegenteil kehrende Gedankenbewegung dieses Sonetts, das ungeachtet seiner gewaltigen Popularität bis heute ungemein frisch geblieben, im ursprünglichen Kontext des Petrarkismus aber auch hochgradig subversiver Natur ist, wobei es eine dialektisch auf die Tradition bezogene Dynamik der Argumentation entfaltet, welche als Potenzial bereits der Struktur des Englischen Sonetts eingeschrieben ist, im pointierend das Vorangegangene problematisierenden oder ironisch unterlaufenden couplet nämlich, und die dergestalt auch in zahlreichen anderen Sonetten der Zeit als charakteristisches Merkmal damaliger Liebesdichtung zur Geltung bzw. Entfaltung kommt. harrende Möglichkeit - im dekonstruierend-rezipierenden Nachvollzug des dem Text innewohnenden Sinngebungspotenzials den Erfahrungsweg des hinreichend aufmerksamen Rezipienten 35 von unbedarft-eskapistischer Naivität zu umfassender menschlicher und politischer Reife nachvollzieht bzw. strukturell vorprägt, damit aber auch das Vordringen zu einem - um ein beliebtes Schlagwort der Zeit aufzugreifen - ‘Durchschauen der Verhältnisse’. Diverse dekonstruktivistische, politisch-kulturelle wie auch sonstige Anknüpfungspunkte und Implikationen bis hin zu Derridas Konzept des Phonozentrismus, die für die Entstehungszeit des Songs geradesogut gegeben sind wie für die heutigen Verhältnisse, lassen sich hier leicht finden und speziell im Unterricht lohnend verwerten; sie können darüber hinaus - etwa unter Verweis auf entsprechende Sonette Shakespeares, wie z.B. Sonett 130 36 - aber mühelos auch kultur- und literarhistorisch in die Tiefe, bis wenigstens hin zu Renaissance und Mittelalter, ausgeweitet werden und dergestalt in einem weitergehenden Sinne die Aktualität wie Originalität von Lennons Song sowohl vor dem Hintergrund einer uralten Tradition der Liebesdichtung als auch aus heutiger Sicht begründen helfen. Meines Erachtens wäre es gleichwohl verfehlt, wollte man die affirmative Auslegung von “All You Need” nun allzu voreilig, geschweige denn apodiktisch als schlichtes Missverständnis oder gar als gänzlich verfehltes misreading eines eindeutig und ausschließlich anders intendierten Textes abtun bzw. als in jeder Hinsicht unzutreffend zurückweisen. Denn auch hier liegen die Verhältnisse komplizierter, als es zunächst scheinen mag, ist es eben Hugo Keiper 186 nicht ganz so ‘easy’. Einerseits nämlich ist einzuräumen, dass die als Reduktion auf dessen logischen Aussagekern eben vorgenommene Umformung des Verse zwar hilfreich im Sinne einer (aussagelogischen) Bedeutungsklärung, aus literarischer Perspektive jedoch im Grunde unstatthaft ist, da Lennon sich nun einmal, anders als im Chorus, im Verse eben nicht einer direkt-linearen, logisch transparenten und einfach zu dechiffrierenden Form der Aussage bedient hat, sondern just der gegebenen, verqueren Aussageweise den Vorzug gab. Diese indes erweist sich als eine Art mind-boggler und verschließt sich selbst im Leseakt, vor allem jedoch bei der auditiven Rezeption, dem leichten, unmittelbaren Verständnis, indem sie - zumindest in den allermeisten Fällen - mit nachgerade naturgesetzlicher Unvermeidbarkeit die Rezipienten und deren mentale, speziell aber logische Verarbeitungskapazität, welche sich schlichtweg überfordert sieht, vor nahezu unüberwindliche Probleme stellt und zugleich in die Irre führt. Es darf unterstellt werden, dass Lennon, ob nun bewusst oder unbewusst, bestimmte, künstlerische Gründe für diese Entscheidung bzw. formale Lösung gehabt haben wird. Als wesentlicher literatur- und kunstdidaktischer Aspekt bzw. Ertrag wird, nebstbei bemerkt, für Studierende gerade an diesem Beispiel die letztlich unaufhebbare Interdependenz von Form und Inhalt in Kunstwerken in ihren weitreichenden Konsequenzen unmittelbar greif- und erfahrbar. Geht man nun aber von der spezifischen Formgebung des Textes wie auch des Songs insgesamt als unhintergehbar aus, wird auf der anderen Seite deutlich, dass “All You Need” als - intermedialer - Text im umfassenden Sinne gerade aus der aufgezeigten Spannung bzw. Dialektik unterschiedlicher Bedeutungsebenen und -muster bzw. divergierender Interpretationsmöglichkeiten lebt, nicht zuletzt daraus aber auch sein eigentliches Interesse wie seinen besonderen künstlerischen Wert bezieht. Diese - zum Teil medial bedingte - Vielschichtigkeit des Songs in rechthaberischer Manier auf eine einsinnige Deutung, in die eine oder die andere Richtung, reduzieren zu wollen, käme daher einer abermaligen Vereinseitigung und Vereinfachung gleich, die im Grunde auf einen lediglich inhaltlich umgepolten Rückfall in eben jene Rezeptionsfalle hinausliefe, welche die affirmative ‘there-there-Interpretation’ so verlockend und überzeugungskräftig erscheinen lässt. Hinzu kommt - und dies ist nach meinem Dafürhalten als wesentlicher Aspekt einer genuinen, deren grundsätzlicher Intermedialität gebührend Rechnung tragenden Ästhetik der Poplyrik bzw. von Popsongs allgemein anzusehen -, dass die beschriebene Doppelperspektive und dialektische Spannung dem Song als unverzichtbarer Teil seines Sinngebungspotenzials bzw. Sinnangebots buchstäblich und als integraler Bestandteil seiner Wirkung im umfassenden, dynamischen Sinne eingeschrieben ist, was ursächlich mit den bereits angesprochenen rezeptionspsychologischen Faktoren zusammenhängt, welche die (präzise) Dechif- It’s Easy (? ) 187 37 Den bei weitem besten und detailliertesten kritischen Überblick über den Stand der kognitionspsychologischen Forschung zum Arbeitsgedächtnis geben die Artikel der (englischen und deutschen) Wikipedia, s.v. “Working Memory”, “Baddeleys Arbeitsgedächtnismodell”, “The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two”, sowie “Aufmerksamkeit”; vgl. weiters auch die dort angeführte neuere Literatur, aber auch die anregende, zum Teil freilich bereits überholte Darstellung bei Baddeley (1983), speziell Kap. 10 und 11. 38 Die tatsächliche, jedenfalls aber stark begrenzte Verarbeitungs- und Behaltenskapazität des working memory, die in Informationseinheiten (chunks) gemessen wird, ist in der Kognitions- und Gedächtnisforschung noch umstritten und selbst bei Einschränkung auf den Bereich des Hörens sprachlicher Information von zahlreichen und vielfältigen Faktoren abhängig, etwa der Wortlänge, der Dauer einer Äußerung oder auch der Vertrautheit des Kontexts (mit entsprechenden Auswirkungen auf die Kapazität des sogenannten ‘episodischen Puffers’), wobei neben dem Alter der Hörer auch die Komplexität der Botschaft, Aspekte der Idiomatik und der Informationsdichte, insbesondere aber auch Ähnlichkeits- und Wiederholungseffekte eine wesentliche, freilich oft schwer einschätzbare Rolle spielen (Letztere wohl besonders folgenreich im Falle von “All You Need”). Auch wenn die traditionelle ‘magische Zahl 7’ (d.h. sieben chunks als Kapazitätslimit des Arbeitsgedächtnisses) heute relativiert wird auf ein Spektrum von ca. 5 bis 9 (oder unter Umständen auch etwas mehr) chunks, wird dieses aus den angeführten Gründen im gegebenen Falle wohl ohne Zweifel bis an die Grenze der Belastbarkeit ausgereizt bzw. diese eher sogar überschritten, speziell aufgrund der paradoxen Form(ulierung) der Textaussage jeweils am Eingang des Verse. Bei den hier zugrundeliegenden bzw. ablaufenden, höchst komplexen Prozessen dürften die von Baddeley so genannten ‘phonologischen Schleifen’, phonetische Ähnlichkeitseffekte und die Funktion des sogenannten episodischen Puffers ebenso eine Rolle spielen wie Fragen bzw. Mechanismen der Aufmerksamkeitsfokussierung, der logischen Analyse etc. Eine genauere Reflexion und Analyse der hier wirksamen kognitionspsychologischen Prozesse muss freilich der eingangs eingeforderten Ästhetik der Popmusik vorbehalten bleiben, zumal sich vergleichbare Phänomene nicht selten auch in anderen Popsongs finden und dort zum Teil ebenfalls systematisch bzw. planvoll genützt werden, so etwa in Pinks “Stupid Girls” oder beispielsweise auch im Police-Superhit “Every Breath You Take”. Speziell in diesem Bereich wären auch empirische Daten und Untersuchungen wünschenswert, ja erforderlich - wobei seitens des Verf. diesbezügliche Befragungen zunächst von Studierenden in Vorbereitung sind bzw. als Probelauf in zwei Kursen bereits durchgeführt wurden. frierung der Textaussage steuern bzw. de facto erschweren oder gar verunmöglichen. Unter Rekurs auf neuere Erkenntnisse der Wahrnehmungs- und Kognitionsforschung betreffend die Funktionsweise und Verarbeitungsmechanismen des sogenannten Kurzzeit- oder - wie es jetzt meist heißt - Arbeitsgedächtnisses (working memory) 37 ließe sich nämlich in allen Einzelheiten zeigen, dass - in erster Linie natürlich bei hörender Rezeption - die spezifische Form des Songs die Verarbeitungskapazität des durchschnittlichen Arbeitsgedächtnisses beträchtlich überfordert, und zwar speziell infolge der paradox verklausulierten Formulierung der jeweils ersten beiden Zeilen der einzelnen Strophen, und hier wiederum vor allem der Eingangszeile der ersten Strophe als maßgeblichem, tonangebendem Schlüsselreiz, wodurch sich zugleich aber auch die inhaltliche und logische Dechiffrierungskapazität der meisten Zuhörer überfordert sieht 38 . In dieselbe Richtung - in Entspre- Hugo Keiper 188 39 Dies bezieht sich vor allem auf das Zusammenspiel von Intro, Chorus/ Refrain/ Hook und Verse am Eingang bzw. im ersten Teil des Songs, die bestimmte, scheinbar konvergierende thematische Erwartungen wecken bzw. thematisch-motivliche Fokussierungen im Sinne eines Hook generieren, welche ihrerseits aufgrund der Komplexität insbesondere der jeweils ersten beiden Zeilen des Verse in der Folge vom Rezipienten nicht mehr korrigiert werden (können), sodass hier in der Tat die meisten Gestaltgesetze - so etwa das Gesetz der Nähe, der Ähnlichkeit, der Kontinuität, der Geschlossenheit bzw. des gemeinsamen Schicksals oder auch der durchgehenden Linie - in gegenseitiger Intensivierung zusammenwirken und, thematisch bzw. motivlich gesehen, in gleichsam projizierender bzw. illusionierender Weise zum Tragen kommen dürften, um den von uns beschriebenen Effekt (mit-)auszulösen bzw. zu verstärken. - Den weitaus besten Überblick zu den Gestaltgesetzen gibt abermals der Artikel der Wikipedia, s.v. “Gestaltpsychologie”. 40 Zum musikalischen Aspekt vgl. Stevens (2003), der allerdings die Aussage des Verse gründlich verkennt (vgl. dazu bes. 217f. und 222). Stevens führt in der “Summary” seiner musikologischen Analyse unter Bezug auf die vieldiskutierten Taktwechsel im kompositorisch äußerst innovativen Verse und den als “‘arrival’ point” dagegengesetzten Chorus aus: “The empty bar of 3/ 4 at the end of the verse barely gives the listener a chance to catch their breath - it is, after all, one beat short - when suddenly there is another bar of 4/ 4 with more information. […] The chorus melody makes a wonderful soft landing, using just a single melody note for ‘all you need …’ while the chords move chromatically below.” (222) 41 Aufschlussreich in diesem Zusammenhang wie generell für ein besseres, genaueres Verständnis der Prozesse und Mechanismen der Rezeption intermedialer Texte, speziell natürlich von (Pop-)Songs, dürfte auch die ernsthafte Auseinandersetzung mit und nicht zuletzt auch die theoretische Analyse von sogenannten mondegreens sein (d.h. von mishearings gesungener, im weiteren Sinne auch gesprochener Texte). Vgl. dazu meinen Beitrag “‘It’s a hard egg’: Mondegreens and other (mis)construals of pop lyrics - and what they can teach us” (Konferenz “English Language, Literature and Culture in a Global Context”, Maribor, 11.-12. Mai 2007), der zur Veröffentlichung in den Proceedings dieser Tagung (ed. Nada Šabec) vorgesehen ist. chung übrigens auch mit den Gesetzen der klassischen Gestalttheorie 39 - wirken darüber hinaus weiters auch die musikalisch wie prosodisch unterstützte bzw. gesteuerte Form und die spezifische Machart und (Aus-)Gestalt(ung) von Intro, Bridge und Chorus/ Hook, die auf der thematisch-motivlichen Ebene als themensetzende Initialreize und (scheinbare) inhaltliche Brennpunkte fungieren, wie auch umgekehrt die musikalisch-kompositorische Gestaltung des Verse einen gleichfalls nicht unerheblichen Beitrag liefert 40 . Unter dem Strich, als Grundmuster der auditiven Rezeption bzw. Dechiffrierung des Strophenkörpers bzw. seiner einzelnen Zeilen 41 , bleibt nun aber infolge alles dessen im Bewusstsein der allermeisten Rezipienten vor allem die sozusagen kurzgeschlossene Grundaussage der jeweils ersten beiden Verse-Zeilen haften: “(there’s) nothing … that can’t be done [bzw. sung/ made etc.]”. Dies jedoch bildet seinerseits gerade die Basis der von uns beobachteten affirmativen Simplifizierung bzw. Reduktion der Textbedeutung, welche, sobald sie einmal auf Schiene gebracht und fest im Rezipientenbewusstsein etabliert ist, von der erdrückenden Mehrheit der Rezipienten offenbar auch in der Folge nicht mehr hinterfragt, geschweige denn korrigiert wird - nicht zuletzt wohl deshalb, weil die rasche Abfolge der inhaltstragenden Verszeilen der einzelnen Strophen und die insgesamt und It’s Easy (? ) 189 auf allen Ebenen überwältigende Informationsfülle und Komplexität des intermedialen (oder auch plurimedialen) Gesamttextes einer genaueren diesbezüglichen Reflexion ebenfalls hemmend entgegentreten. Was man aber einmal verstanden zu haben glaubt, wird in der Regel als gegeben und unverrückbar korrekt hingenommen, zumal “All You Need” ja scheinbar so einfach, geradlinig und positiv daherkommt und gerade dieses Image durch so gut wie alle Kommentare transportiert und bestätigt wurde und wird. Zumindest scheint dies durch die publizierten Aussagen bzw. Rezeptionsdokumente mehr als deutlich belegt. Eine Korrektur im Sinne einer komplexeren, mehrschichtigen bzw. dynamisch-dialektischen Rezeption wird daher zumeist wohl zusätzlicher bzw. äußerer auslösender Impulse bedürfen, wie sie im Unterricht die nachfragende Lehrkraft zu geben imstande ist, bedarf aber, um über die bloße Ahnung einer im Hintergrund lauernden Komplexität, eines unaufgelösten Rests gerade noch spürbarer Unklarheit hinauszugehen, wahrscheinlich der gründlich lesenden Rezeption, der genauen, analytischen Auseinandersetzung mit dem Sprachtext als Text, so wie sie mir einst auf der Suche nach geeigneten Texten für den Unterricht einen ersten Anstoß für die hier vorgelegte Re-Interpretation des Songs gab. 6. Zusammenfassend wird man daher sagen können, dass letzten Endes keine, oder aber beide, der grundlegenden Lesarten des Textes bzw. Songs, die hier diskutiert wurden, die ‘richtige’ bzw. ‘authentische’ ist. Vielmehr wird eher von einer Art - potenzieller - Koexistenz der beiden Sinngebungsmöglichkeiten bzw. -alternativen auszugehen sein, die in gewisser Hinsicht sogar inkompatibel sind, insofern als sie zwei einander im Grunde ausschließende Rezeptionsformen und Zugänge zu Popsongs betreffen. So wird die hier vorgelegte Neuinterpretation des Verse zunächst und in der Regel, vor allem bei ausschließlich hörender Rezeption, allenfalls als erahnbare Komplexität, als anklingende Spannung, dem Song als gleichsam ‘schlummernder’ Subtext, einem semantischen Sprengsatz vergleichbar, eingeschrieben sein, daher im normalen bzw. üblichen Rezeptionsakt bestenfalls vage und ahnungsvoll sich andeutend mitschwingen, sich in ihren vollen Implikationen aber erst über eine genaue, textbezogene Analyse Bahn brechen (können). Man wird also möglicherweise selbst in Kenntnis der präzisen Textbedeutung eher von zwei in mancher Hinsicht gleichberechtigten, letztlich jedoch - je nach Standpunkt und Zugang - auf ihre Art gleichermaßen legitimen Rezeptionsweisen ausgehen müssen, die in gewisser Weise, als quasi gestalthafte Alternativen, sogar parallel nebeneinander herlaufen bzw. existieren können, deren eine jedenfalls aber zunächst dem Song lediglich als semantisches Potenzial und implizite Selbstdekonstruktion Hugo Keiper 190 42 Hervorzuheben ist hier nochmals die speziell für die Rezeption der Beatles, insbesondere jedoch ihres späteren Schaffens, so wesentliche wie paradoxe Divergenz zwischen der eingeschrieben ist, welche der Erweckung und Freilegung im Akt des buchstäblichen Lesens des verschriftlichten Textes auf Ebene der lyrics harrt. Zugleich wird, wie wir gesehen haben, die eine, glättende Lesart bzw. Auslegung der überwältigenden Mehrheit der empirischen Rezeptionsakte entsprechen, damit aber deren Normalfall und im intermedialen Sinne vielleicht sogar adäquateren Zugang zum Song repräsentieren, während die andere, komplexere Auslegung als gewissermaßen verdeckte Möglichkeit und erst freizulegendes semantisches Potenzial des präzisen analytischen, ja nachgerade wissenschaftlich vorgehenden interpretatorischen Zugriffs bedarf. Ob Letzteres Lennons ursprünglicher Intention - sofern eine solche in eindeutiger Weise überhaupt gegeben war - entsprach, zuwiderlief, oder ihm vielleicht auch weitgehend gleichgültig war; ob er - zumal im Verlauf der ihm erlebbaren Rezeptionsgeschichte des Songs - die Aufdeckung des verborgenen Sinns als Spiel ungewissen Ausgangs oder gar als Teil seines künstlerisch-literarischen Vermächtnisses sah (wie etwa sein literarisches Vorbild James Joyce den Finnegans Wake), oder ob er ihr offenbar weitgehendes Ausbleiben bedauerte, muss freilich dahingestellt bleiben. Sicher ist allerdings eines: Ab dem Moment, da ein bestimmer Rezipient die tatsächliche Komplexität des Textes erkannt und aufgedeckt hat (und dies gilt nach deren eigener Auskunft auch für Studierende, die einmal Teilnehmer der hier vorgestellten Einheit waren), gibt es in gewisser Weise kein Zurück mehr zur einsinnig-naiven Lesart, da sich - geradeso wie ‘falsche’ Lesarten oder Informationen, die sich einmal im Bewusstsein eingeprägt haben - umgekehrt auch Einsicht und Erkenntnis nicht rückgängig bzw. vergessen machen oder gar vollständig aufheben lassen. Sie gehören daher ab diesem Punkt für die betreffenden Leser (selbst noch in der Zurückweisung) unabänderlich zur Aussage und individuell wahrgenommenen, erlebten ‘Wahrheit’ des Textes, obgleich möglicherweise, als ein Akt nostalgischer Rückkehr ins verlorene Paradies dieses Textes sozusagen, ein Gestaltsprung zur naiven Simplizität der spontanen Lesart nach wie vor denkbar und wahrscheinlich sogar erlebbar scheint, sodass letzten Endes beide Wahrnehmungen einander als die jeweils andere, alternative ‘Wahrheit’ des Textes im gleichsam dialektischen Sinne zu bewahren und aufzuheben suchen und vielleicht auch vermögen. Abschließend erhebt sich nun freilich die Frage, ob ich - und mit mir all jene, die mir bis hierher gefolgt sind - in meinen Überlegungen der stets lauernden Gefahr einer Überinterpretation erlegen bin, wie sie ja bekanntlich gerade im Falle der Beatles und ihrer Songs die mitunter seltsamsten Blüten (und zum Teil auch erstaunlichsten Interpretationsleistungen) hervorgetrieben hat 42 - man denke nur an die seinerzeitigen Gerüchte und Spekulationen It’s Easy (? ) 191 Oberflächlichkeit der ‘Normalrezeption’ von Popsongs und den elaborierten (Über-)Interpretationen vieler Fans und speziell jener nerds, die auf der Suche nach Schlüsseln zur Interpretation nicht einmal davor zurückschreck(t)en, sogar den Müll ‘ihres’ Stars nach Indizien zu durchsuchen (so überliefert von Alan Jules Weberman, dem notorischsten aller ‘Dylanologen’), die aber auch nicht müde wurden und werden, die Signifikanz jeder noch so kleinen Regung eines Popstars bis ins Letzte zu durchleuchten - Auslegungen, die im Zeitalter des Internet gerne auch auf diesem Wege unter die Leute gebracht werden. Vgl. dazu aber auch Fn. 35 oben. 43 Fälschlicherweise wird diese Textkollektion vielfach als Kurzgeschichtensammlung charakterisiert. Sie enthält indes - von Lennon selbst ironisch-naiv illustriert - acht lyrische und weitere 23 Prosatexte, darunter auch einige Dialoge bzw. Dramolette, die strukturell immer wieder in eine mit “All You Need” vergleichbare Richtung zielen, u.a. etwa im analogen, wenngleich kruderen Kippeffekt des zynischen Küchenliedgedichtleins “Good Dog Nigel”. - Zu Lennon so geistreichem wie gewandtem Literaten und Wortbzw. Sprachspieler vgl. speziell den grundlegenden Aufsatz von Helbig (1995). über Paul McCartneys unzeitigen Tod im Jahre 1966, für den sich unzählige vermeintliche Indizien fanden, etwa auf den Album-Covers von Sgt Pepper’s und Abbey Road; oder an den fraglos notorischsten aller Beatles-Interpreten, den mörderischen Kommunarden Charles Manson und dessen tatbegründend-paranoide Auslegung des sogenannten White Album, die ihm - so Mansons Aussage - die unmittelbare Motivation zum Mordbefehl an Sharon Tate und ihren Mitopfern lieferte. Ich glaube zuversichtlich, diesen möglichen Einwand zurückweisen zu können, ließe sich doch eine Fülle zusätzlicher Indizien bzw. Fakten ins Treffen führen, welche die hier vorgelegte Analyse hinreichend absichern und legitimieren. Zum einen wäre dabei vor allem auch auf John Lennons ambitioniertes literarisches Œuvre zu verweisen, insbesondere auf die sprachspielerisch-experimentelle Textsammlung von 1964 mit dem wortspielerischen Titel In His Own Write 43 , und dies umso eher, als Lennons ins Literarische gerichtete Ambitionen im hier interessierenden Zeitraum nicht zuletzt auch durch den Einfluss Bob Dylans neuen Auftrieb auch in Lennons Liedschaffen erhielten. Zum anderen - und für mich selbst liegt darin die letztlich vielleicht stichhaltigste Bestätigung meines Interpretationsansatzes, gerade weil sie mir erst Jahre nach dessen erster Entdeckung und grundsätzlicher Entwicklung bzw. didaktischer Anwendung gegen Ende der 1980er-Jahre zur Kenntnis kam, ja kommen konnte - findet sich in der 1997 erschienenen McCartney-Biographie von Barry Miles eine höchst aufschlussreiche, bislang jedoch gänzlich unbeachtete Bemerkung, ja geradezu ein Einbekenntnis Sir Pauls, der zu unserem Song anmerkt: “The chorus ‘All you need is love’ is simple, but the verse is quite complex, in fact I never really understood it, the message is rather complex. It was a good song that we had handy that had an anthemic chorus.” (Miles 1997: 354) Gewiss, auch diese fast schon auktorial zu nennende Reminiszenz McCartneys kann nicht ganz ohne Einschränkung als unwiderlegbare Legitimierung der hier unterbreiteten Folgerungen gelesen werden. Indes wirft sie in dieser Hinsicht Hugo Keiper 192 44 Dies ist durchaus auch buchstäblich gemeint, da sich im eingangs angesprochenen, projektierten Einführungsbuch in die Lyrikanalyse im unmittelbaren Anschluss an die Diskussion von “All You Need” ein Kapitel mit entsprechendem Schwerpunkt finden wird. Denn gerade aus der häufigen, ja im Grunde zur Regel gewordenen, Verbindung von singing und songwriting im Kontext der Popmusik seit den Sixties ergibt sich in vielen Publikationen und Interpretationen ein ausgesprochener, und meist recht unreflektierter Hang zum naiven Biographismus bzw. zu vielfach unhinterfragten Auslegungen vor dem Hintergrund (angeblicher) biographischer Zusammenhänge, die zu mitunter problematischen Fehlurteilen führen können, weil dabei dem Element der Fiktionalisierung biographischer Angaben oder Reminiszenzen bzw. der Möglichkeit der Mystifikation keine, jedenfalls aber nicht die gebührende Aufmerksamkeit geschenkt wird. Ein diesbezüglich überaus lehrreicher Fall ist Bob Dylans “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”, das mitnichten unter dem unmittelbaren Eindruck der Kubakrise verfasst wurde, wie in den Liner-Notes zu The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan unter Rekurs auf eine geschickt mystifizierende Selbstaussage Dylans behauptet und in der Literatur bis heute kolportiert wird. Auf die diesbezüglichen Folgen für Rezeption und Interpretation des Songs, und speziell auch deren didaktische Nutzbarkeit im Sinne einer Bewusstseinsbildung von Studierenden, die aus der Schule nach wie vor vielfach recht naiv biographistische bzw. intentionalistische Vorurteile mitbringen, wird in diesem Anschlusskapitel genauer eingegangen werden. Fragen und Probleme auf, die sich unter Stichwörtern wie Intentionalität, Autorisierung, aber auch Selbstinszenierung und Mystifikation subsumieren und auch im Unterricht in so fruchtbringender wie erhellender Weise thematisieren lassen. Doch dies ist wieder ein anderes Kapitel 44 . 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(2006). “Umfrage: Die Deutschen und Literatur - Goethe ist bekannter als Dan Brown”. http: / / www.buecher.magazin.de/ index.php? id=umfrage (4.6.2006). Das neue Pop- und Rocklexikon. Fünf Jahrzehnte Sounds, Stars und Szenen von Rock ‘n’ Roll bis Hip Hop (2005) (DVD-ROM). München: Systhema. DeCurtis, Anthony, und James Henke (eds.) (1992, 3 rd edition). The Rolling Stone (Illustrated) History of Rock & Roll. Fully Revised and Updated. London: Plexus. Eagleton, Terry (2003). After Theory. New York: Basic Books. It’s Easy (? ) 193 Elicker, Martina (1997). Semiotics of Popular Music. The Theme of Loneliness in Mainstream Pop and Rock Songs. Tübingen: Narr. Faulstich, Werner (1977). “Leonard Cohen: SUZANNE”. Praxis des neusprachlichen Unterrichts 24. 200-202. Faulstich, Werner (1978a). Rock - Pop - Beat - Folk. Literaturwissenschaft im Grundstudium 7. Tübingen: Narr. Faulstich, Werner (1978b). “The Beatles: PENNY LANE (1967)”. In: Elke Platz-Waury (ed.). Zeitgenössische englische Lyrik. 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Artikel: “All You Need Is Love”; “Love (The Beatles Album)”; “The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two”; “Working Memory”. Wikipedia: Die freie Enzyklopädie. Februar 2007. http: / / de.wikipedia.org/ wiki (02.03.2007). Artikel: “Aufmerksamkeit”; “Baddeleys Arbeitsgedächtnismodell”; “Gestaltpsychologie”. Wolfe, Arnold S., und Margaret Haefner (1996). “Taste Cultures, Culture Classes, Affective Alliances, and Popular Music Reception: Theory, Methodology, and an Application to a Beatles Song”. Popular Music and Society 20: 4 (Winter). 127-155. Anhang (1) Autorisierte Veröffentlichungen des Songs “All You Need Is Love” • “Our World”. TV-Live-Satellitenausstrahlung: 25. Juni 1967 • Single [A-Seite; mit “Baby You’re a Rich Man” als B-Seite]: UK: 7. Juli 1967; US: 17. Juli 1967; #1 UK-Charts, #1 US-Charts, #1 Deutschland (vgl. MacDonald 2005: . 261, und Benzinger 2001: 44). • Magical Mystery Tour. November 1967 [nur US-Edition], track 11 (track 5, B-Seite der LP) (auch als CD, 1987) • Yellow Submarine: Zeichentrickfilm 1968; als Album Yellow Submarine: 1969; erweitert als Yellow Submarine Songtrack: release als CD September 1999 • The Beatles/ 1967-1970 (‘The Blue Album’): 1973 (auch als CD) • The Beatles Anthology. DVD-Boxset (5 DVDs): 1995, DVD 4, Tracks 1 und 20. • 1 [One][27 #1 singles] (als CD; chronologische Anordnung: track 18): 2000 • Love (als CD und Audio-DVD, Dolby 5.1 Digital Surround): November 2006 It’s Easy (? ) 195 45 Die Transkription wurde von mir selbst vorgenommen, da keine der mir bekannten schriftlichen Veröffentlichungen des Songtextes völlig dem tatsächlich gesungenen Text entspricht - eines von vielen (text-)philologischen Problemen, die sich, vermehrt noch im Zeichen des Internet, bei der Auseinandersetzung mit Popsongs stellen. Abgesehen von den letzten ad libs des Ausklangs, der verändert und u.a. durch ein abschließendes “Good night” sowie “God bless you” erweitert ist, ist dies exakt auch die Textfassung der Version von Love (2006), wo allerdings Lennons Lead-Stimme gegenüber früheren Versionen bzw. Abmischungen, speziell auf Vinyl, besser verständlich und deutlicher herausgearbeitet wirkt. (2) Transkription des Texts von “All You Need Is Love” (Version der LP Magical Mystery Tour) 45 Love, Love, Love. Love, Love, Love. Love, Love, Love. There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done. Nothing you can sing that can’t be sung. Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game. It’s easy. Nothing you can make that can’t be made. No one you can save that can’t be saved. Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time. It’s easy. All you need is love. All you need is love. All you need is love, love, Love is all you need. All you need is love. All you need is love. All you need is love, love, Love is all you need. Nothing you can know that isn’t known. Nothing you can see that isn’t shown. Nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be. It’s easy. All you need is love. All you need is love. All you need is love, love, Love is all you need. All you need is love (All together, now! ) All you need is love. (Everybody! ) All you need is love, love, Love is all you need (love is all you need: rep. ad lib). Yee-hai! Yesterday Oh yeah! She loves you, yeah yeah yeah. She loves you, yeah yeah yeah. Intro (Chor: background auch bei Verse 1-3 und instrumentalem Verse) Verse 1 / Strophe 1 (transitional) Bridge Verse 2 / Strophe 2 (transitional) Bridge Chorus / Refrain [instrumentaler Verse] Chorus / Refrain Verse 3 / Strophe 3 (transitional) Bridge Chorus / Refrain Chorus / Refrain > Ausklang [Ausklang (ad libs) Ausblende] Hugo Keiper Institut für Anglistik Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz Narr Francke Attempto Verlag GmbH + Co. KG Postfach 25 60 · D-72015 Tübingen · Fax (0 7071) 97 97-11 Internet: www.narr.de · E-Mail: info@narr.de This volume contains a selection of papers read at the 2005 Basel conference on “Cultures in Contact.” They suggest the directions in which the discipline(s) of English has/ have recently been moving both with regard to the study of cultural contact and to disciplinary cultures. Focusing on specific issues, like mediation and contact zones, the papers cover a wide chronological, geographical and generic range: from dream-time to today, from China to Hollywood, and from autobiography to satire. Balz Engler / Lucia Michalcak Cultures in Contact Swiss Papers in English Language and Literature, Band 19 2007, 210 Seiten, €[D] 49,00/ SFr 77,50 ISBN 978-3-8233-6272-2 1 This paper is part of Prof. Wolfgang Zach’s research project English Literature and Slavery 1772-1834: From the Beginning of the Abolitionist Movement to the Abolition of Slavery financed by the Austrian Science Fund (FWF). AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ The Acceptance of the Evils of Slavery as a Social Phenomenon: an Indicator of a Pro-Slavery Approach 1 Ulrich Pallua Sarah Scott’s The History of Sir George Ellison (1766), Henry Mackenzie’s Julia de Robigné (1777) and Charlotte Smith’s The Wanderings of Warwick (1794) all address the issue of slavery in the 18 th century. Placing the novels in the cultural and historical context, the paper will show that slavery was a central issue long before the abolition movement got under way in the late 1780s. It will prove that the conditions of the slaves reflected problems of rank and social position in 18 th -century English society. The portrayal of the enslaved black Africans and the arguments used to comment on the situation and treatment of the slaves in the colonies will show that the novels anticipate the central tenets of the promoters of the slave trade in the early 1790s. This is, the calling for an amelioration of the conditions of the slaves rather than an outright ban of the slave trade, since their emancipation would have been contrary to the development of an English nation that was striving for economic viability. Thus, the respective novels can be characterized as early exponents of pro-slavery currents of the second half of the 18 th century. When Sir George Ellison in Sarah Scott’s The History of Sir George Ellison (1766) decides to marry a widowed plantation owner from Jamaica, the narrator describes Ellison’s decision as follows: “The lady was agreeable, her fortune desirable […] yet he flattered himself that her merit, joined with her personal charms, must soon excite a strong affection in a heart naturally warm and tender.” (Scott 1996: 9) This statement reflects the attitude to- Ulrich Pallua 198 2 Interestingly enough, even though the slave trade as such is never explicitly mentioned in the three novels [except in The Wanderings of Warwick when the narrator mentions the slave merchant], the main issue in the second half of the eighteenth century is the enslaving of the Africans, which obviously refers to the trading with slaves. As a matter of fact, at that time slavery as such “[…] was not in decline; indeed was accepted to be of continuing economic importance to Britain.” (James Walvin, Slavery and the Slave Trade - A Short Illustrated History (London and Basingstoke: The Macmillan Press, 1983) 142. 3 The abolitionists had fought for the abolition of the slave trade and not for the abolition of slavery. “Wilberforce rejected the claim that they sought ‘the design of immediately emancipating the Slaves. Can it be necessary to declare, that the Abolitionists are full as much as any other man convinced, that insanity alone would dictate such a project.’” William Wilberforce, A Letter on the Abolition of the Slave Trade (London, 1807), qtd. in James Walvin, England, Slaves and Freedom, 1776-1838 (Jackson and London: University Press of Mississippi, 1986) 124. The term slavery comprises the institution of slavery as a whole - even if slavery as such became an issue only after the abolition of the slave trade in 1807 - and also the enslavement of the black Africans, namely the slave trade. wards the enslavement of Africans 2 in the late 18 th century when the issue of slavery came to the fore. This paper shows how slavery 3 was introduced to the readers and how the authors in question raised the issue of enslaved black Africans in their novels. The novels to be discussed are Sarah Scott’s The History of Sir George Ellison (1766), Henry Mackenzie’s Julia de Robigné (1777) and Charlotte Smith’s The Wanderings of Warwick (1794). The novels have been chosen because they take a similar approach to the topic of slavery in the English colonies in the second half of the 18 th century covering a span of almost thirty years. The paper scrutinizes the fact that the issue of slavery is touched upon only marginally within the novels and that slavery as a topic was already covered before the abolition movement gained momentum in the 1780s. The fact that two out of three novels were written by female novelists is not particularly relevant for this paper as there are no significant differences in the way the three authors depicted the black African slaves. The paper claims that the novels under consideration can be regarded as pro-slavery novels as the various ‘recommendations’ to improve the slaves’ conditions - in The History of Sir George Ellison, Julia de Robigné, and The Wanderings of Warwick - did not aim at propagating abolitionist ideas but at an amelioration of the slaves’ conditions in order not to put the economic viability/ profitability of the colonies at risk. Similar - more precise and detailed - recommendations later re-emerge in the writings of promoters of the slave trade like William Knox, and Captain Macarty, who had edited proslave trade speeches in the House of Commons by James Baillie (MP for Horsham), Benjamin Vaughan (MP for Calne), Banastre Tarleton (MP for Liverpool), and Robert Banks Jenkinson (MP for Rye), reactions to “[…] William Wilberforce’s motion for the Abolition of the Slave Trade on 2 April 1792.” (Ryden 2003: 133) Interestingly enough, similar recommendations can ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 199 4 Thus, the text is included under the heading of Promoters of the Slave Trade. also be found, to a certain extent, in Edmund Burke’s ostensibly abolitionist Sketch of the Negro Code. The close resemblance of the novels to these writings substantiates the claim that the three novels take a pro-slavery stance in contrast to previous assertions, like the one by Eve W. Stoddard, who stated in her paper on Sarah Scott that “Scott’s specific proposals for the reform of slavery are among the earliest and the most progressive in the eighteenth century.” (Stoddard 1995: 383) The analysis of Knox’s, Macarty’s and Burke’s texts of the early 1790s will reveal that not only The History of Sir George Ellison but also Julia de Robigné and The Wanderings of Warwick were forerunners of pro-slave trade argumentation. Thus, the comparison of the novels with the texts of the promoters of the slave trade and with Burke’s anti-slave trade text - proving that Burke’s Sketch of the Negro Code essentially propagates the same as the promoters of the slave trade and can therefore be considered pro-slave trade 4 - will show that Sarah Scott, Henry Mackenzie, and Charlotte Smith’s novels were early pro-slavery texts. Promoters of the Slave Trade in the Early 1790s The promoters here discussed are a Planter from whom nothing is known except that he “[…] has from his Infancy been conversant in mercantile Affairs, as well as many Years resident in the Western Islands; ” (A Planter 2003/ 1789: 9) William Knox (1732-1810), “[…] a prolific pamphleteer […]”(Ryden 2003: 107) writing in defence of the slave trade in the colonies; and the four MPs James Baillie (1737-93), “[…] a colonial agent for Grenada in 1792,” (Ryden 2003: 133) Benjamin Vaughan (1751-1835), a Jamaicanborn planter, Banastre Tarleton (1754-1833), and Robert Banks Jenkinson (1770-1828). I also list Edmund Burke (1729-97) under the heading of promoters of the slave trade, because even though he supported William Wilberforce’s call for the total abolition of the slave trade in 1789, his Sketch of the Negro Code (1999/ 1792) argues along the same lines as the promoters’ texts, calling for a gradual abolition of the slave trade rather than an outright ban. The arguments presented by the three authors to raise doubts about the righteousness of slavery bear close resemblance to the arguments presented by supporters of the slave trade; this is to say that both parties call for an amelioration of the slaves’ conditions (and thus for a continuation of the slave trade) based on the religious/ moral argument - the abduction of the Africans saved them from their own sloth as they were considered inferior - and on the economic argument - that first it was untenable to abolish the Ulrich Pallua 200 slave trade as it would harm not only the planters’ but also England’s economy and, secondly, that the slaves were better off than the lower classes at home. To the question why slavery originated in the first place the Planter replies that the reason for their enslavement is the highest order from God and the abolition of the slave trade brings about misery and destruction to the mother country. To the moral objection “[…] how any one, alive to every Sentiment of Humanity, can encourage a Barter for Human Beings! ” (A Planter 2003/ 1789: 11), the Planter replies that the slave trade preserves millions from further relapsing into barbarity: “Hence it is evident, that it is better to be the Slaves of Christians, than the Victims of Heathen Ferocity.” (A Planter 2003/ 1789: 12, 13) The coming of the Europeans is interpreted as a benefit for the slaves, as they are provided with an education bringing them closer to the status of human beings and protecting them from their own degeneration. If the slave trade was abolished, other nations would take up the trade, harming not only British economy but also the slaves themselves as they would be sold to other nations whose methods are more barbarous than those of the English. As far as the living conditions and the punishment of people are concerned, the Planter draws parallels between the slaves in the colonies and the poor people in the mother country, […] why should we consider it so great a Crime, while our Martial Law encourages the Flogging the gallant Mariner, and the brave Soldier? […] How shall we then account for the extreme Sensibility so much alive to the Correction of the Negro, while we forget the Suffering of those brave Fellows […]. (A Planter 2003/ 1789: 27) The principle of the supposed inferiority of the slaves/ Africans and the consequent duty of the Europeans to civilize them is also sustained by William Knox. Calling the Africans “[…] wretched descendants of Ham,” he plays down the seriousness of the brutality towards the slaves: what are all the profits gained from the colonies compared “[…] to the single consideration of its injustice? ” (Knox 2003/ 1790: 113, 114) Since the Africans must have been created by God and are entitled to the same rights, it is “[…] surely the duty of all Christians, as states, societies, and individuals, to endeavour to instruct them in the knowledge and will of the Creator.” (Knox 1790: 115) This duty requires the Europeans not only “[…] to transport them [the slaves] out of their country,” (Knox 2003/ 1790: 116) but “[…] to counteract the natural inequality of men, an inequality which the Creator ordained, as it should seem, for the very purpose of forcing them into society, the condition for which they were created and adapted.” (Knox 2003/ 1790: 119) This leads inevitably to the subjection of the slaves, as man has the right to force an individual, to “exercise a power over him […].” (Knox 2003/ 1790: 119) As a result, the enslavement of the Africans saves them from being further op- ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 201 pressed by the African princes, who “[…] assume and exercise a still more despotic power over their subjects than did the feudal lords.” (Knox 2003/ 1790: 124) From an economic perspective the feeding and clothing of the slaves and the whole process of ameliorating the slaves’ conditions aims at generating profit. “Africans are not only the forced labour supply by which astronomical profits are reaped. They are also significant consumers of British goods in their own right […].”(Wheeler 2000: 224) The question pro-slave trade advocates raise is: what is so abominable about the condition of the slaves if the landlords in other European countries treat their subjects even worse? According to Knox, The difference […] between the free-born Englishman and the negro seems to be this, that the one is compelled to labour while he is able by the pinching of hunger, the shivering of cold, or the horrors of a gaol; and the other is forced to it when he is well fed and clothed, and in sound health, by the terrors of the cart whip. (Knox 2003/ 1790: 124) He concludes that “[…] we are bound as men and Christians, to assist them in removing out of it into one where their present and future happiness will be better provided for […] Their removal, therefore, is not under all circumstances to be prohibited.” (Knox 2003/ 1790: 126) In regard to the situation in England, Capt. Macarty, in his introduction to the speeches, raises the question as to whether only the planters are to be blamed for the continuance of the slave trading business and not “[…] the GOVERNMENT […] and […] the LEGISLATURE and the NATION, which have invariably sanctioned that trade for more than a century? ” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 142) Capt. Macarty cites James Baillie, who corroborates the fact that the slave trade and the deportation of Africans was sanctioned by the government and is therefore legal; the abolition of the slave trade, however, would certainly increase the risk of insurrections and rebellions resulting from the slaves’ discontentment with the newly acquired emancipation. Baillie contends that while the abolitionists claim that the cause of the African is one of humanitarian concern, they forget the fate of the planters (the injustice inflicted upon the British/ West Indian subjects). Thus, he goes on to question the moral principles the abolitionists use to demand the abolition of the slave trade - they should act in the interest not only of the state but also in the interest of individuals. Baillie states that “[…] the Negroes in the British West India Islands, to be in as COMFORTABLE A STATE; AS THE LOWER ORDERS OF MANKIND IN ANY COUNTRY IN EUROPE; ” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 171) this is to say that seamen and soldiers endure the same hardships, if not worse, than the slaves in the colonies. The abolition of the slave trade would have grave consequences for the people in England, as it would put in danger the pro- Ulrich Pallua 202 5 “The situation, also, of the Negroes was better than he could have supposed; for cloaths and fuel they have little want on account of the climate - they had a house and land gratis - they suffered no imprisonment for debt - no fear of not being able to support a family to deter them from marrying - their orphans and widows were sure to be taken care of - as likewise themselves, when old or meeting with accidents - they had medicines, surgery, midwifery, and attendance, gratis - they had their private property, which no master ever took from them […] they appeared as happy as any other poor, and had as many amusements of their own and as much cheerfulness.” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 197-8) sperity of the English nation, at the same time threatening the efficiency of one of the most important sea powers at the time. He concludes that the colonies are advantageous to Britain and therefore worth protecting and encouraging, “[…] necessary to the welfare and existence of the said Sugar colonies.” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 184) The complete abolition of the slave trade, according to Baillie, brings about destruction and loss to the mother country, the British subjects, in particular seamen, and thus cannot be approved of; “and those who are of a different opinion, I will ever consider as IGNORANT OF THE TRUE INTERESTS OF GREAT BRITAIN, AND ENE- MIES TO ITS WELFARE AND PROSPERITY.” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 194) In his speech on slavery Benjamin Vaughan justifies the continuance of the slave trade with the religious and moral enlightenment the slaves would receive from the planters. “Where RELIGION was once instilled, there would be less punishment - more work done - and better done - more marriages - more issue - and more attachment to their Masters and to the Government.” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 205) Moreover, the slaves are better treated than the lower classes in Britain, as the planters take special care of them. 5 As far as England and the colonies are concerned, also Vaughan argues that if the slave trade were to be abolished, it would greatly harm England’s economy. Banastre Tarleton maintains that with the abolition of the slave trade “[…] we undermine our present advantages, destroy our future expectations […].” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 236) He makes it very clear that abolishing the slave trade means disregarding the English constitution, “[…] if I was an enemy to the Constitution of England […] I would vote for the abolition of the African trade.” Why endanger the empire’s economy and well-being when “Through the medium of science, and the extension of labour and manufactures, we are enabled to penetrate into every country, to become the merchants of every state, and the citizens of every clime.” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 235) The abolition of the slave trade does not better the slaves’ conditions, as other countries would profit from England’s feeble-mindedness. On the contrary, it would first and foremost threaten the security of the white troops as they are faced with insurrections and rebellions. ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 203 6 “He again stated his abhorrence of the Slave-Trade; but as a resource, though he hoped but a temporary one, it was of such consequence to the existence of the country, that it should not suddenly be withdrawn.” (The Online Library of Liberty. “Thomas Clarkson, The History of the Rise, Progress, and Accomplishment of the Abolition of the African Slave-Trade by the British Parliament, 1808.” <oll.libertyfund.org/ Home3/ Book.php? recordID=0591.02>) Robert Banks Jenkinson in his speech admits that enslaving human beings is an act of inhumanity but abolishing the slave trade would not greatly enhance the slaves’ situation as other nations would take over: “Do we regret the deaths, do we regret the cruelties that are said to have been committed? - Those deaths, and those cruelties would be more than doubled if we were to abolish the trade.” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 244) He even uses the slaves themselves to answer the question, ‘If other countries are not disposed to unite with you in abolishing it, for our sakes do you continue it; for whatever may be the evils we suffer from it, the trade carried on by other countries, when compared to the trade carried on by you, is as evil when compared to good.’ (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 245) Jenkinson draws the attention to the fact that the slaves have already been exposed to “peculiar disadvantages” (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 249) - hurricanes and resulting famines - and cruelties before they were captured and transported to the islands; the Europeans could therefore not add up to their misery. According to Jenkinson, The duty of a statesman was not to consider abstractly what was right or wrong, but to weigh the disadvantages that were likely to arise from the abolition of an evil, against the consequences that were likely to arise from the continuance of it. (Capt. Macarty 2003/ 1792: 260-1) In his Sketch of the Negro Code Edmund Burke is also of the opinion that the slave trade should be gradually abolished because an outright ban would have greater undulations than desired. 6 By a gradual abolition he hopes to extract at least some good from the business with human beings, namely the civilization of the Africans. It was my wish […] to take such measures as to civilize the coast of Africa by the trade, which now renders it more barbarous; and to lead by degrees to a more reputable, and, possibly, a more profitable, connexion with it, than we maintain at present. (Burke 1792: 172) This expected profit even justifies further expenses, “The Planter you must at once restrain and support; and you must control, at the same time that you ease, the servant […] It becomes in its nature complex. But I think neither the object impracticable, nor the expense intolerable.” (Burke 1792: 173-4) Even if Burke’s suggestions for the “[…] government of the Negroes, which are or shall be employed in His Majesty’s Colonies and Plantations in the West Ulrich Pallua 204 7 Burke suggests the following (cf. 1999/ 1792 if not otherwise stated): “Attorney General to be Protector of Negroes” (192) - inspectors are installed who control the districts/ twice a year a report of the condition of the slaves should be compiled - attorney is allowed to challenge the jury - ships arriving in the colonies are to be inspected by the attorney who is allowed to impose fines on a captain for maltreating the slaves or for not adhering to the rules - slaves are inspected and sold legally/ slaves with relatives, wife, children are not to be sold individually - division into districts, parishes - churches to be erected - “a Presbyter of the Church of England” (196) together with a clerk (African) is to instruct the slaves in religion/ baptize them unless they are Dissenters - overseer should hand in an annual list of those slaves who attend church - ten blows for everybody who misbehaves during service - no alcohol to be sold in the vicinity or one hour before and after Mass - list of marriages, births and burials - annual meetings of the parishes where regulations are decided upon - bishop is allowed to remove ministers - slaves who do well at school are to be bought and sent to London to improve their skills - attempt to raise marriage rate among slaves, even if he/ she has no partner - “adultery, unlawful concubinage, and fornication” (203) are to be punished - 3 days honeymoon - time off from work for pregnant women - married couples not to be sold separately - no work on Saturday afternoon and Sundays - married men to be allowed time off to spend time with their wives and children - slaves get huts and land/ after death possessions are to be bequeathed onto his wife and children - punishment for abusing slaves is not very strict - if any offence has been committed towards the slaves on behalf of the overseer, the slave is to be sold - slaves (younger than 30) should have the possibility to buy themselves free, as well as the master himself - idle free slaves convicted of a crime can be resold into slavery - report about such events to be sent to the secretary of state. Indies” (Burke 1792: 177) 7 are much more detailed than in the novels themselves, it is Burke’s final conclusion that does not differ significantly from what the novelists propose, even if The History of Sir George Ellison, Julia de Robigné, and The Wanderings of Warwick at first portray slavery as inhumane, irreligious, and immoral: “I am fully convinced, that the cause of humanity would be far more benefited by the continuance of the trade and servitude, regulated and reformed, than by the total destruction of both or either.” (Burke 1792: 174) Burke’s attitude towards the abolition of the slave trade makes the Sketch of the Negro Code a pro-slave trade text that calls for the continuance of the trade rather than for its termination. Sarah Scott: The History of Sir George Ellison (1766) When George Ellison marries a rich Jamaican widow who owns a large plantation, he is immediately described by the author as someone who […] was of a disposition to prosecute warmly and diligently every thing he undertook; therefore, as he entered into merchandize, he wished to pursue it in the most profitable manner, indifferent as to any inconveniences which might attend it. (Scott 1996: 6) The inconvenience the narrator speaks about is the fact that his wife owns a great number of slaves. Mr. Ellison is faced with the moral and ethical dilemma of making profit from the plantations by enslaving Africans. “Accord- ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 205 ing to the present state of the island he was sensible he could not abolish this slavery, even on his own estate, and saw no means of rendering happy the poor wretches, whose labours were to yield him affluence.” (Scott 1996: 10) His attitude towards enslaving people on account of a different complexion is made clear from the very beginning. The thing that had chiefly hurt him during his abode in Jamaica, was the cruelty exercised on one part of mankind; as if the difference of complexion excluded them from the human race, or indeed as if their not being human could be an excuse for making them wretched. Slavery was so abhorrent to his nature, and in his opinion so unjustly inflicted, that he had hitherto avoided the keeping any negroes. (Scott 1996: 10) Mr. Ellison, despite being opposed to the exploitation of human beings, is compelled not only to put up with the fact that he needs the slaves in order to gain profit but also that his wife, born and bred in Jamaica, “[…] had a reasonable share of compassion for a white man or woman, but had from her infancy been so accustomed to see the most shocking cruelties exercised on the blacks, that she could not conceive how one of that complexion could excite any pity.” (Scott 1996: 10) The indifference of the West Indians stems from their being used to inflicting pain on the slaves. Contrary to his wife, Ellison is convinced that ‘These poor creatures would be far our superiors in merit, and indeed in nature, if they could live without committing frequent faults […] I will endeavour to find a means of rendering our slaves obedient, without violating the laws of justice and humanity.’ (Scott 1996: 12) Mrs. Ellison’s callousness and indifference to the way her slaves are treated by the overseers is demonstrated by the episode with her favourite lap-dog breaking its leg. Being in tears over her dog’s pain she wonders why she should feel any compassion for the slaves. To Ellison’s statement “‘[…] but I confess I am surprised, though agreeably, to see such marks of sensibility in a heart that I feared was hardened against the sufferings even of her fellow creatures,’” (Scott 1996: 13) she only replies, “‘Sure, Mr. Ellison, you do not call negroes my fellow creatures? ’” (Scott 1996: 13) This incident proves the supposed inhumanity of the people born in the West Indies, in this particular case that of Mrs. Ellison. According to F.A. Nussbaum Mrs. Ellison exemplifies the special inhumanity of a plantation owner’s wife who is capable of perhaps greater cruelty than her husband […] Mrs. Ellison is the antithesis of the proper English lady: manly, emotionally controlling, weepy, a bad mother, and a racist. (Nussbaum 2003: 146) While Mrs. Ellison considers the slaves “[…] the most despicable part of the creation,” (Scott 1996: 13) Mr. Ellison declares that the supposed inferiority of the slaves is just a product of an ethnocentric attitude. Ulrich Pallua 206 8 “He erected a great number of cottages, and assigned to each family a comfortable habitation, with a little piece of ground adjoining, well stocked with vegetables, the future cultivation of which he left to themselves; at the same time providing them more plentiful and better subsistence than was usually allowed to any in their station. Two days in the week he permitted them to leave off work at an early hour in the afternoon; and promoted innocent amusements among them at those times; carefully preventing the sale of strong liquors, less mirth should lead to drunkenness. If the weather were peculiarly sultry, he would make them retire from work in the hottest part of the day, and always take care that they were supplied with wholesome liquor to refresh them. If any were sick, he immediately had all ‘When you and I are laid in the grave, our lowest black slave will be as great as we are; in the next world perhaps much greater; the present difference is merely adventitious, not natural […] I am exerting a power merely political, I have neither divine, nor natural right to enslave this man. This shocking subordination may be necessary in this country, but that necessity makes me hate the country.’ (Scott 1996: 13, 16) The assertion that they will be equal once dead, however, is just a flimsy argument serving as an excuse for the abominable conditions of the slaves and the justification of their enslavement. In fact, Mr. Ellison has recourse to the belief that even if the enslavement of the blacks is not naturally ordained by God, their lack of cultural development, their superstition and moral degeneracy make them inferior. Negroes are naturally faithful and affectionate, though on great provocation, their resentment is unbounded, and they will indulge their revenge though to their own certain destruction […] Their superstition inclined them to think him a deity, rather than a man; and in nothing did he find them less docile, than when he endeavoured to turn their love and admiration of him to his and their Maker. (Scott 1996: 17-8) Ellison is considered to be the hand of God leading the slaves to happiness and revelation by converting them to Christianity. He is characterized as “[…] their General Parent […] He shewed them plainly that he was but God’s steward.” (Scott 1996: 18) The inferiority of the slaves is further accentuated by the fact that he considers the slaves to be his children who have to be led to salvation. The act of denying the slaves their own freedom is counterbalanced by the attempt to educate the slaves with fatherly love. “He assured them, that he looked upon them all as his children, and promised no one should supply his place, that did not consider himself as their father.” (Scott 1996: 31) The blame is once again shifted onto the slaves as he is forced to subjugate them out of sheer necessity. He would not consider them his slaves except by “[…] ill behaviour they reduced him to the disagreeable necessity of exerting an absolute power over them. ‘While you perform your duty […] I shall look upon you as free servants, or rather like my children, for whose well-being I am anxious and watchful.’” (Scott 1996: 14) The act of ameliorating the situation of the slaves 8 gains him their affection; his wife, ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 207 proper relief applied; and by the encouragement he gave to such old women as nursed them well, secured them every comfort their condition could admit.” (Scott 1996: 14) however, is surprised at Ellison’s generosity and assures him that he is too lenient with such an “ungrateful creature.” [the African slave] (Scott 1996: 15) Leniency towards the slaves, however, guarantees Ellison more profit and at the same time obedient slaves. When Ellison reckons that “I cannot feel myself so superior to any of my fellow creatures, as to have a right of correcting them severely. I am determined therefore, for the future, to abolish all corporal punishments” (Scott 1996: 14), he rather stresses than weakens their inferiority by hinting at the fact that it is just for the planters’ good to make them obedient. Quite interestingly, this love generates not only more profit for the planter but also improves the slaves’ intelligence and readiness to think “[…] in comparison of those who are stupefied by ill usage and oppression.” (Scott 1996: 34) This trend not only means the spiritual enlightenment of the slaves but at the same time poses a threat to the integrity of the planter. According to Ferguson, Africans no longer act as happy or noble natives capering in a state of nature; they nurture a ‘savage’ or primitive inner core, a quasi-consciousness. This new status for the colonial other is a serious affair because British lives are at stake […] slaves might act as loyally as children, but beneath their goodhumored surface lies an untamed barbarism, always ready to strike. (Ferguson 1992: 104) The threat the English are confronted with is the conversion of the slaves, as they are “[…] much better acquainted with the fundamental principles of that religion, than people of low condition are in most Christian countries.” (Scott 1996: 36) The humanity with which Ellison treats his slaves is part of the duties Providence has imposed on him, as it is the happiness of others people should benefit most from. “‘I therefore think myself obliged to spend the greatest part of my fortune in relieving the necessitous, in providing for the good of their souls, and the ease of their bodies,’” (Scott 1996: 84) as the difference between the captive slave and the free Englishman […] lies only in education; you have been bred in a country, where scarcity of natural inhabitants introduced slavery, which can never be established but at the expense of humanity […] I, on the contrary, was born in a country, that with all its faults is conspicuously generous, frank, and merciful, because it is free; no subordination exists there, but what is for the benefit of the lower as well as the higher ranks; all live in a state of reciprocal services, the great and the poor are linked in compact; each side has its obligations to perform; and if I make use of another man’s labour, it is on condition that I shall pay him a price for it, as will enable him to purchase all the comforts of life; and whenever he finds it eligible to change his master, he is as free as I am.’ (Scott 1996: 16-7) Ulrich Pallua 208 The legacy George Ellison leaves to his slaves is the belief in the benefit of work being the basis for happiness. He leaves “[…] a spur to their industry,” and decides to give them “the power (as he enfranchised them) of chusing their own master […].” (Scott 1996: 138) Ellison contends that his slaves should have the liberty to choose their own master as “[…] it would not be so severely felt by those accustomed to it, as by such as had been till then used with gentleness and lenity.” (Scott 1996: 138) The idea that those habituated to bad treatment would suffer less from it than those already treated with benevolence stands in marked contrast to his condemning the people in Jamaica who are used to maltreating their own slaves. Towards the end of the novel Ellison expresses his attitude towards the slaves as far as their position in society is concerned. First, he maintains that “[…] though he promoted their marrying, he did not wish a union between those of different complexions, the connection appearing delicate and almost unnatural.” (Scott 1996: 139) Even though he supports the education and the moral and spiritual enlightenment of the slaves, he is still incapable of considering them equal. “[…] Ellison’s approval of color-segregated couples appears contradictory, given his protestations about slaves being fellow creatures and about skin color being incidental, especially since his black servants are recently converted Christians.” (Wheeler 2000: 147) Secondly, when it comes to the education of the planters’ children, they should be sent to England for a higher education, since schools in the colonies are only suitable for those who have been born inferior. There was then no tolerable school in the whole island of Jamaica, except those he had instituted for his slaves, and they were of a sort too low for the heirs to large fortunes, who ought to learn more languages than their own, and not confine their knowledge to the narrow bounds which suit those born to a servile state. (Scott 1996: 169) Even if his son was sent to the metropolis to be educated, and even if he considered England to be the haven of equality and humanity, Ellison leaves his son a considerable sum of money to buy more slaves, an act that is in stark contrast to what he advocates throughout the whole book. Even though Scott deals with the issue of slavery in The History of Sir George Ellison, it comes across as something that had to be touched upon, as a side effect of the problems of English society. The moment the focus is shifted to the poor in England, the situation of the slaves in the colonies becomes relevant, sometimes just to illustrate that the poor people at home are treated even worse than the slaves. Even though the second chapter “[…] promotes a rational and achievable approach to plantation life which planters could be encouraged to follow,” (Carey 2005: 53) it does not promote the emancipation of the slaves. Moreover, it is not true that the amelioration of the slaves’ conditions targets at abolishing slavery, as Ellison per- ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 209 9 Page numbers according to electronic printout. fectly knows that his wealth depends on slaves. He denounces slavery as abhorrent to human nature and improves the slaves’ conditions like a benevolent planter, but never fails to remind them of their duty, “‘While you perform your duty […] I shall look upon you as free servants […].” (Scott 1996: 14) Even if they are ‘free,’ they are not free to choose their master, as his way of treating them is unique. Besides, they are still compelled to work, otherwise they would be of no use to Ellison. I agree with Nussbaum’s contention that The novel encourages the kind treatment and education of slaves, but one can claim that the novel is abolitionist only by understating the hero’s economic collusion and ignoring the way that his charitable impulses rely upon the spoils of slavery for funding. (Nussbaum 2003: 143) Also, Ellis Markman comments: He [Ellison] denounces slavery simply because slavery is abhorrent to him […] he is even by his own admission not an abolitionist, because he is unable (or unwilling) to dispute the hegemony of the ‘present state of the island’, because ‘his affairs could not go without them [the slaves]’. Instead he sets out to palliate and ameliorate slavery. (Ellis 1996: 91) Ameliorating the slaves’ conditions, however, cannot be considered abolitionist, but rather pro-slavery, as the story oscillates between a confirmation of the ideology of slavery and a light-hearted accusation of inhumane treatment of the slaves levelled against the West Indian planters. The problem with this accusation is that Ellison’s approach to the whole problem is not at all convincing because of the underlying aim of exploiting the slaves for personal profit. And this economic dimension/ entanglement does not lead to the abolition of slavery but, quite contrarily, to the continuation of the slaves’ treatment as inferior beings. Henry Mackenzie: Julia de Roubigné (1777) In Mackenzie’s Julia de Roubigné there is a short passage (chapter XXVIII) that deals with the issue of slavery; the story is set in Martinique and the discussion opens with Savillon generalizing about the subject of slavery, “In one I have been successful beyond expectation; and in that one I was the most deeply interested, because it touches the cause of humanity.” (Mackenzie 1777: 44) 9 This generalization makes sure the reader recognizes slavery as an ethical issue that raises the question of its humanity and legality. Savillon purchases a slave called Yambu, and it is to him that Savillon introduces his new system of slavery, namely a state of dependency based on trust and hard labour. But before he can present his ameliorated system, Ulrich Pallua 210 10 This reverence for the ‘leader figures’ among the African natives covers several centuries from Aphra Behn’s Oroonoko/ Caesar in Oroonoko to Daniel DeFoe’s Friday in Robinson Crusoe to H. Rider Haggard’s Ignosi/ Umbopa in King Solomon’s Mines to John Buchan’s John Laputa in Prester John. he has to ascertain that it is the Africans themselves who enslave their fellow countrymen and sell them to the slave traders, instigating the abominable trade: “[…] they had been taken prisoners when fighting in his cause, by another prince, who, in one battle, was more fortunate than theirs; that he had sold them to some white men, who came, in a great ship, to their coast.” (Mackenzie 1777: 40) This attempt at shifting the blame for the enslavement onto the Africans is a clear indication of their inferiority and lack of cultural development. Savillon sets in motion his new system of slavery by telling Yambu, “‘I cannot give you back your country, Yambu; but I can make this one better for you.’” (Mackenzie 1777: 41) At the same time Savillon makes clear that even though the slaves’ conditions are ameliorated, it nevertheless entails working hard, “‘[…] else we shall have no sugars to buy them meat and clothing with.’” (Mackenzie 1777: 41) This newly developed scheme is not an improvement of any kind but just a way to trick the slaves into believing that they are treated with respect; instead, they are being exploited in order to gain profit and to avoid friction. As soon as Yambu realizes that this master will eventually improve the atrocious conditions of the slaves, he “[…] fell at my [Savillon’s] feet, and kissed them: Yambu stood silent, and I saw a tear on his cheek. ‘This man has been a prince in Africa! ’ said I to myself.” (Mackenzie 1777: 41) The fact that Savillon recognizes Yambu as a prince, a nobler creature among the Africans, who is able to reason and is therefore eligible to communicate with the European, shows that on closer examination some African slaves could eventually be considered quasi-equal, even if he just refers to ‘leader figures.’ 10 “One who had inquired no further, would have concluded him possessed of that stupid insensibility, which Europeans often mention as an apology for their cruelties.” (Mackenzie 1777: 41) Savillon distances himself from the rest of the Europeans, who seem to be incapable of realizing that slavery as a system could be operated more profitably by treating the slaves more favourably. I have had the satisfaction of observing those men, under the feeling of good treatment, and the idea of liberty, do more than almost double their number subject to the whip of an overseer. I am under no apprehension of desertion or mutiny; they work with the willingness of freedom, yet are mine with more than the obligation of slavery. (Mackenzie 1777: 42) [my emphasis] It is true that “Savillon’s psychological control over the slaves seems chilling, while his reaffirmation of plantation property rights (‘are mine’) in fact ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 211 strengthens than rather ameliorates the slaves’ position as chattel,” (Carey 2005: 65) but the slaves are not only seen as the slave owner’s property but are naturally used as an economic incentive: by ameliorating their conditions - the present state of slavery is unprofitable, not only unhealthy for the merchants, the whole nation and its subjects, but also to the slaves themselves. I have often been tempted to doubt whether there is not an error in the whole plan of negro servitude, and whether whites, or creoles born in the West Indies, or perhaps cattle, after the manner of European husbandry, would not do the business better and cheaper than the slaves do. The money which the latter cost at first, the sickness (often owing to despondency of mind) to which they are liable after their arrival, and the proportion that die in consequence of it make the machine, if it may be so called, of a plantation extremely expensive in its operations. In the list of slaves belonging to a wealthy planter, it would astonish you to see the number unfit for service, pining under disease, a burden on their master. I am talking only as a merchant. (Mackenzie 1777: 42) [my emphasis] Thus, the fact that slaves on the plantations are quite expensive - similar to what Adam Smith wrote in The Wealth of Nations in 1776, “The experience of all ages and nations, I believe, demonstrates that the work done by slaves, though it appears to cost only their maintenance, is in the end the dearest of any” (Smith 1998: 238) - does not lead to the abolition of the abominable trade of human beings but to the conviction that the amelioration of the slaves’ conditions naturally entails the viability of the slave trade. Savillon’s argumentation now shifts from the economic to the humanitarian/ religious perspective: […] but as a man good Heavens! When I think of the many thousands of my fellow-creatures groaning under servitude and misery! Great God! Hast thou peopled those regions of thy world for the purpose of casting out their inhabitants to chains and torture? No; thou gavest them a land teeming with good things, and lighted’st up thy sun to bring forth spontaneous plenty; but the refinements of man, ever at war with thy works, have changed this scene of profusion and luxuriance, into a theatre of rapine, of slavery, and of murder! (Mackenzie 1777: 42) [my emphasis] The fact that Savillon calls the slaves his “fellow creatures” stands in marked contrast to his thesis of God’s creation of the earth. A closer look at the passage raises the question who these “inhabitants” of the earth are. It seems as if Savillon refers to humanity as a whole, including the dark complected people as well. In this case he puts the slave on a level with the white European; as a result, it is not just the destructiveness of the slave trader/ colonizer but also the arrested development of the slaves that has turned human existence into hell on earth. Nevertheless, this religious bout does not succeed in diverting attention from the fact that the economic Ulrich Pallua 212 argument is somehow stronger, since the fate of not only the planters is at stake, but also that of the mother country and its subjects. What comes as a surprise, however, is the introduction, although brief [in chapter XXIX], of “Herbert, an Englishman, a merchant in one of the British West-India islands,” (Mackenzie 1777: 43) whom Savillon describes as “[…] a worthy and amiable man,” having “[…] a delicacy and fineness of sentiment, which something beyond the education of a trader must have inspired […] I perceived a tincture of melancholy enthusiasm in his mind […].” (Mackenzie 1777: 43) Herbert seems to be the personification of the qualities of the ‘man’ Savillon was talking about when referring to the enslavement of the Africans, and to whom Savillon attributes qualities of humanity and morality. Thus, the dichotomy of the Frenchman and the Englishman in this context - the former being the merchant craving for profit, the latter being a man of reason fighting for the amelioration of the slaves’ conditions - does not only show that the French and the people living in the West Indies in general, be they French, English, or from any other nation, are corrupted by habit and profit, but that the Britons living at home are the ‘nation’ that cares most about the slaves since they have developed a natural sense of justice. The polarity between people living in or outside Great Britain (including other nations) is explained by reference to how such a system came into existence in the first place. “Habit, the tyrant of nature and of reason, is deaf to the voice of either; here she stifles humanity, and debases the species for the master of slaves has seldom the soul of man […] from his infancy he is made callous to those feelings, which soften at once and ennoble our nature.” (Mackenzie 1777: 42) According to Savillon, the consciousness of the slaves’ agony should prevent the planters from turning the earth into a scene of violence and murder since it is their brothers and sisters who are exploited in the name of economy. We think seldom of those things which habit has made common, otherwise we should correct many of them; there needed only to give one’s feelings room on this theme, and they could prompt no other conduct than mine […] the best of our resolutions are bettered, by a consciousness of the suffrage of good men in their favour; and the reward is still higher, when that suffrage is from those we love. (Mackenzie 1777: 46) The discrepancy between seeing the slaves as “those we love” and as ‘free’ people possessed by the planter speaks volumes about Savillon’s argumentation against slavery. Savillon in Julia de Robigné in fact propagates the idea of amelioration but not without having the profit of the plantations at the back of his mind. I agree with Markman Ellis’s statement that “Savillon hopes to mitigate the violence of the slave system and improve the social conditions of the work force,” but not with the contention that this is done without “[…] challenging the fundamental status of slavery.” (Ellis 1996: 120) As uncon- ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 213 vincing as Savillon’s sudden compassion for his “fellow creatures” is, he indeed challenges the status of slavery by raising them on a higher evolutionary level. Nevertheless, emancipation is an act that requires the willingness to accept the African slaves as equal, something Savillon is still very far away from, not only from an intellectual and moral but also from a religious standpoint. Charlotte Smith: The Wanderings of Warwick (1794) The issue of slavery is touched upon in chapter II and III; the story is set in Barbados, where Warwick is faced with the brutality of slavery on the plantations in the West Indies. The book was written at a time when William Wilberforce’s struggle against the slave trade was gaining momentum. Warwick issues a very clear statement about his attitude towards slavery: “‘[…] I had an opportunity of observing the state of the negro-slaves, whom I often considered as being in a condition which reflected disgrace on humanity,’” (Smith 1992: 44) stressing the fact that even someone who had only been craving for a fashionable life, could describe the ‘real’ situation of the slaves in the colonies. With his next assertion Warwick corroborates the belief that the people dwelling in the West Indies, being habituated to the enslaving of Africans, have already been corrupted by being exposed to a ‘West Indianness’: A number of beings condemned to perpetual slavery, beings who seem called into existence only to suffer, is an idea revolting not only to the mind of every Englishman, but to every European in whom habit does not blunt the power of reflection. (Smith 1992: 45) All of a sudden, he eases his position on slavery by adding, “I will own to you, however, that the subject seen nearer loses some of its horror; though too many remain, and ever must remain, while slavery exists.” (Smith 1992: 45) This is a clear indication of the argumentation to follow as Warwick is in favour of ameliorating the system of slavery rather than abolishing it. It seems as if Warwick desperately tries to emphasize that the way the slaves are treated on the plantations is contrary to human nature because they can be considered to be human beings. “When I considered that these were creatures endued with a portion, and, as some have contended, an equal portion, of that reason on which we so highly value ourselves, I turned with horror and indignation from such a spectacle.” (Smith 1992: 45) [my emphasis] But at once he informs the reader that even though the conditions of the slaves offend him, he has got used to it, “Gradually I became habituated to the sight, yet it still disgusted and distressed me.” (Smith 1992: 45) [my emphasis] Warwick’s horror at the appalling conditions of the slaves is Ulrich Pallua 214 counterbalanced by the contention that it is not the British but the West Indians or the Americans who mistreat the slaves as a result of being used to enslaving and dehumanizing them, “[…] for the continental Americans, like those of the West Indies, consider such things as mere matters of course - though it is said that they are less severe in their treatment of that unhappy race of people.” (Smith 1992: 56) This claim is rebutted by an earlier statement when Warwick recounts how his friend Jack observed his mistress Miss Shaftesbury [Marianne] whipping a little black girl; he draws the attention to the difference between Miss Shaftesbury “[…] whom I have seen weep over the fictitious distresses of a novel […]”(Smith 1992: 53), and her beating a slave girl almost to death. This incident proves to the reader that there is a crucial chasm between how the slaves are treated by the West Indians, who were “[…] in every other instance reasonable and humane” - Warwick even realizes that “[…] without such wholesome severity masters [in the West Indies] would not be able to keep their slaves in subjection” (Smith 1992: 46) - and by the English. Nevertheless, even in England, “[…] that land, the inhabitants of which pique themselves, and not without reason, on being distinguished for the most liberal humanity among the nations of the civilised world,” (Smith 1992: 57) people become accustomed to violence and poverty. Warwick uses the aforementioned habit, according to which people don’t seem to be alarmed by the utmost barbarities towards the slaves in the West Indies, to justify his own failure to notice the violence in the streets of London. Still, the people living in the West Indies “[…] find nothing extraordinary in being surrounded by another race of man destined to be their slaves, and are only amazed that the European should suppose these men liable to the same sensations as himself, and should feel interested for the happiness of beings so inferior” (Smith 1992: 58-9) as “[…] perhaps in no part of the Christian world are appearances of morality so little attended to as in the West India islands.” (Smith 1992: 62) Talking about the cruelties of slavery in the West Indies, Warwick has recourse to the economic argument used by most pro-slave trade writers, The slave merchant studies nothing but his profit and loss; and if at any time something like a qualm of conscience should disturb the felicity he finds in acquiring wealth, he reconciles himself to his pursuit with reflecting, that if he did not drive this trade somebody else would - an argument which I have often heard used to justify every folly and every vice. (Smith 1992: 59) While Warwick condemns the arguments used by the pro-slave trade lobby, he is trying to shift the blame onto the slaves. On the one hand, he accuses the West Indians of racial violence towards slaves but on the other, he mitigates the problem that the people in the West Indies are accustomed to their own barbarity with which they treat slaves by reckoning that the planters in Barbados take particular care of them: ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 215 […] that in general they are not ill-treated […] and if there are some masters whose malignant disposition even avarice cannot controul, there are others whose humanity is not lessened even by the perverse and savage tempers of some of those unhappy beings who are their property. (Smith 1992: 60) [my emphasis] Despite the fact that the planters treat the slaves humanely, they still consider them to be brutes. This is Warwick’s transition from pitying the slaves because they are subjected to the brutality and violence of the planters to them being inferior and thus responsible for their own enslavement. Moreover, those already born slaves are destined to work for the white master as are the peasants back home in England. Warwick even goes as far as to state that since the slaves are their master’s property, they even take particular interest in their master’s welfare. But it seems as if the general lot of this unfortunate race was more tolerable than we are led to suppose from a transient view of their situation: those who are born upon the estates they cultivate, having never any other idea than that of being destined to that labour which they behold going forward around them, are no more discontented with their lot than the peasants in Europe. (Smith 1992: 60-1) By comparing the situation of the black Africans in the colonies to the poor in England, Warwick comes to the conclusion that also the English peasants are “[…] driven to labour-not indeed with stripes, but by the terrors of a gaol.” (Smith 1992: 64) The peasant is forced to flee and become a soldier, being “[…] in reality as great a slave as the African - at least for the term of years for which he has engaged himself.” (Smith 1992: 64) The Englishman, when quitting his service, is forced to live in a workhouse under harsh conditions in comparison to the situation of the aging slaves. The slaves are provided with all the necessities of life, they are cared for, they have their own little huts, they are supported by their women, and they are even allowed to rear their children and to teach other slaves. Here Warwick resorts to the arguments of the apologists of the slave trade by contending that the slave “[…] has many little indulgences to sweeten this last period of existence […].” (Smith 1992: 65) [my emphasis] After Warwick has substantiated that the slaves in the colonies are destined to be enslaved by the planters and that the conditions under which they live are not as appalling as it seems - “[…] dreadful as the condition of slavery is, the picture of its horrors is often overcharged” (Smith 1992: 65) - he takes another sharp turn and speaks out against slavery: “[…] let me protest my belief that its brutalities, while it degrades, the human character, and produces at once servility and ferocity.” (Smith 1992: 66) This “servility and ferocity” - the violence and the inhumanity of slavery - is used by Warwick to prove the Africans’ readiness to treat their fellow creatures more Ulrich Pallua 216 11 On March 31 st 1806, however, when a bill was presented to the House of Commons by Sir A. Pigott, Thomas Clarkson states that “Mr. Windham deprecated not only the Slave-Trade, but slavery also. They were essentially connected with each other. They were both evils, and ought both of them to be done away.” (The Online Library of Liberty. “Thomas Clarkson, cruelly than the white planters would ever dare to. Once again the blame lies with the slaves as Warwick theorizes that the people who have been treated badly in their infancy will treat their servants/ slaves/ subjects even more severely: It has been received as a maxim, that human nature is everywhere the same; and if these observations are just, it is exemplified in remarking, that such of the negroes as are entrusted with any degree of authority over their unhappy countrymen, exercise that authority with infinitely more rigour than the white superintendents. (Smith 1992: 68) The primary aim of this episode - the whipping of the little black girl - and the book as a whole is not to remind the reader of the brutality of slavery but rather to blame not only the Africans, but also the people in the West Indies for this pernicious business, confirming the hypothesis that the farther away from England the people live the more liable they are to violence and indifference. Interestingly enough, Charlotte Smith excels at developing an idea - for instance when Warwick expresses his disgust at slavery and immediately attributes the indifference to such violence to habit - and rejecting it again by deconstructing it: if the West Indians are considered cruel, there are also good people among them; if the slaves have to live under abominable conditions, they are always better off than the poor in England; and if the treatment of the slaves can be considered cruel, the slaves are even more cruel than the white superintendents. This apologetic behaviour reflects the vacillation between condemning slavery and excusing it by putting the blame on the Africans themselves rather than taking on the responsibility for enslaving human beings. Conclusion The History of Sir George Ellison, Julia de Robigné, and The Wanderings of Warwick anticipate the ideas of the promoters of the slave trade in the early 1790s - calling for an amelioration of the slaves’ conditions rather than their emancipation - by suggesting that their manumission is, after all, quite contrary to the development of the English nation striving for the maintenance of the economic viability of slavery as its abolition would cause bigger undulations than its continuation under improved conditions. Thus, the novels can be categorized as pro-slavery novels that influenced the writings of the promoters of the slave trade. 11 ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 217 The History of the Rise, Progress, and Accomplishment of the Abolition of the African Slave-Trade by the British Parliament, 1808.” <oll.libertyfund.org/ Home3/ Book. php? recordID=0591.02>) The focus of attention lies on the problems of 18 th century English society, and the conditions of the slaves in the colonies are a reflection of what was going on at home. The comparison with the poor peasantry in England is ample proof of that. The main issue of eighteenth-century society is difference in social rank. Even if each of the three characters in the novels, George Ellison, Savillon and Warwick allude to the fact that slavery is considered an abominable business enslaving the poor Africans, they never forget to place special emphasis on the fact that the position in society still separates the European from the African. “Social rank becomes the obfuscating mask to maintain difference and to assume an inferiority specified as ‘blackness’ and ‘savagery,’ but within humanity.” (Nussbaum 2003: 145) The colouring corroborates this tendency as it is […] a physical mark of the national character that makes whiteness emerge as part of Britain’s imperial identity […] it increasingly becomes a legible measure of beauty or ugliness, national character, health, social rank, economic and moral worth […]. (Nussbaum 2003: 150) Moreover, social rank always goes along with materialism and economy. It is neither the spiritual enlightenment of the slaves nor their moral or religious education - as it would have threatened the superiority of the English - the colonizers/ plantation owners are mostly interested in, but the profitability of the slaves; “[…] the unstated subtextual monster is profit, cornerstone of the rising and predacious capitalist-colonialist economy,” (Ferguson 1992: 104) the dead albatross [profit-making business] hanging around the plantation owner’s neck. The cruelty of enslaving fellow creatures is attributed to the West Indians, as their morals have been corrupted by living far away from home - in this case England which is seen as the abode of freedom and humanity. The juxtaposition of Mr. Ellison with Mrs. Ellison, the metropolis with the periphery, and Britishness with non-Britishness reveals that those not dwelling in England are already estranged from the basic idea of liberty, a quality the British prided themselves of possessing. Moreover, the enslaved Africans are saved from their barbaric fellow countrymen as they wage wars against each other and sell the captive slaves to white traders. The comparison of the situation of the English peasantry with that of the slaves in the colonies attempts to prove that the slaves live under much better conditions than the poor at home. Since the West Indians are used to the bad treatment of the slaves on the plantations, and the economy of the country as well as the lot of the planters cannot be put at risk, the novels Ulrich Pallua 218 serve as an incitement to ameliorate the condition of the underprivileged people within society - the slaves on the plantations happen to be part of that ‘class’ - and not to abolish the enslavement of Africans. Amelioration was considered […] the optimum solution to slavery, the only one that could resolve gnawing contradictions about human freedom and material profit […] Amelioration was no threat to mercantilist values and profiteering […] Rising profits kept abolition at bay. (Stoddard 1995: 100, 107) Thus, the fatherly love of the planter towards the slaves should solve the problems of the slaves as “Gentle usage renders the slave not only more faithful, but more intelligent, and therefore, upon a double account, more useful.” (Smith 1998: 349) That brings us back to the title of this paper, namely that ‘slavery was agreeable, its fortune desirable; ’ it perfectly reflects what the three authors propagated in their novels: the evil of slavery is part of the arising societal development in Great Britain and is thus accepted as a social phenomenon. The wish (of the characters in the novels) to change the present situation of the slaves is insufficient to the extent that it does not entail the emancipation of the slaves. On the contrary, the economy of the motherland and the colonies were too precious to be put at risk; thus, the amelioration of the slaves’ conditions exactly brought about what the plantation owners in the West Indies and the English were craving for: more profit. This is precisely what the narrator says of his and Mrs. Ellison’s future, “[…] her merit, joined with her personal charms, must soon excite a strong affection in a heart naturally warm and tender.” (Scott 1996: 9) Just as Mrs. Ellison did not succeed in deeply touching Ellison’s heart, the cruel fate of the slaves was doomed to be overshadowed by the striving for profit. Therefore, the light-hearted condemnation of slavery and its ensuing justification on grounds of economic viability make the respective novels early exponents of proslavery currents of the second half of the 18 th century. References A Planter (2003/ originally 1789). “Commercial Reasons for the Non-Abolition of the Slave Trade, in the West-India Islands by a Planter and Merchant of many Years Residence in the West-Indies (London, W. Lane, 1789).” In: David Ryden (ed). The British Transatlantic Slave Trade. Vol. 4. London: Pickering and Chatto. 1-28. Burke, Edmund (1999/ originally 1792). “Sketch of a Negro Code (1792).” In: Peter J. Kitson (ed). Slavery, Abolition and Emancipation: Writings in the British Romantic Period. Vol. 2. London: Pickering and Chatto. 167-208. Capt. Macarty (2003/ originally 1792). “An Appeal to the Candour and Justice of the People of England in Behalf of the West India Merchants and Planters founded on Plain Facts and Incontrovertible Arguments (London, 1792).” In: David Ryden (ed). The British Transatlantic Slave Trade. Vol. 4. London: Pickering and Chatto. 133-268. ‘Slavery was Agreeable, its Fortune Desirable’ 219 Carey, Brycchan (2005). British Abolitionism and the Rhetoric of Sensibility: Writing, Sentiment, and Slavery, 1760-1807. New York: Palgrave MacMillan. Ellis, Markman (1996). The Politics of Sensibility: Race, Gender and Commerce in the Sentimental Novel. Cambridge: CUP. Ferguson, Moira (1992). Subject to Others. British Women Writers and Colonial Slavery, 1670-1834. London: Routledge. Knox, William (2003/ originally 1790). “A Letter from W.K. Esq. to W. Wilberforce, Esq. (London, J. Debrett, 1790).” In: David Ryden (ed). The British Transatlantic Slave Trade. Vol. 4. London: Pickering and Chatto. 107-132. Mackenzie, Henry (1777). Julia de Roubigné. <http: / / www.blackmask.com> [accessed 2 Feb. 2006]. Nussbaum, Felicity A. (2003). The Limits of the Human, Fictions of Anomaly, Race, and Gender in the Long Eighteenth Century. Cambridge: CUP. Ryden. David (2003). Foreword. “An Appeal to the Candour and Justice of the People of England in Behalf of the West India Merchants and Planters founded on Plain Facts and Incontrovertible Arguments (London, 1792).” By Capt. Macarty. In: David Ryden (ed). The British Transatlantic Slave Trade. Vol. 4. London: Pickering and Chatto. 133-134. - (2003). Foreword. “A Letter from W.K. Esq. to W. Wilberforce, Esq. (London, J. Debrett, 1790).” By William Knox. The British Transatlantic Slave Trade. In: David Ryden (ed). The British Transatlantic Slave Trade. Vol. 4. London: Pickering and Chatto. 107-108. Scott, Sarah (1996/ originally 1766). The History of Sir George Ellison. Ed. Betty Rizzo. Lexington: Kentucky UP. Smith, Adam (1998/ originally 1776). An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations. Oxford: OUP. Smith, Charlotte (1992/ originally 1794). The Wanderings of Warwick. London: Routledge/ Thoemmes Press. Stoddard, Eve W. (1995). “A Serious Proposal for Slavery Reform: Sarah Scott’s Sir George Ellison.” Eighteenth-Century Studies 28. 379-396. Wheeler, Roxann (2000). The Complexion of Race. Categories of Difference in Eighteenth- Century British Culture. Philadelphia: Pennsylvania UP. Ulrich Pallua Institut für Anglistik Leopold-Franzens-Univ. Innsbruck Narr Francke Attempto Verlag GmbH + Co. KG Postfach 25 60 · D-72015 Tübingen · Fax (0 7071) 97 97-11 Internet: www.narr.de · E-Mail: info@narr.de This volume brings together a selection of papers read at the 2006 Geneva conference on »American Aesthetics«. Contributors address the question of how, from our contemporary perspective, the heavily-theorized historical categor y of the aesthetic can be used. The investment of American writers and thinkers in the concept of the aesthetic, from the eighteenth century to the present, is discussed from a diversity of positions ranging from the colonial American novel, through the work of such canonical writers as Emerson and Thoreau, to contemporar y »minority« ethnic and feminist texts. Indeed, the notion of »minor« literatures is interrogated here. In these essays contributors ask how the recent critical move away from the canon, from American Literature to American literatures, shapes our understanding of aesthetic issues. While the focus is on American cultural production, the primary intellectual contexts of the book are provided by the rise of Enlightenment aesthetic theory and the so-called »crisis of representation« that is Modernity. Deborah L. Madsen (ed.) American Aesthetics Swiss Papers in Language and Literature 20 2007, 242 Seiten € 49,00/ SFr 77,50 ISBN 978-3-8233-6372-9 AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen “No Time for the Innocent”: Evil, Subversion and Social Criticism in Joel Schumacher’s Falling Down, Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho and Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers Florian Niedlich This article investigates the representation and function of evil in Joel Schumacher’s movie Falling Down, Bret Easton Ellis’s novel American Psycho, and Oliver Stone’s movie Natural Born Killers. In all three ‘texts’, evil emerges as a subversive force, namely as the protagonists’ form of resistance against a society that is portrayed as hostile and whose existing order is called into question. Thus, the subversive impetus gives rise to different forms of social criticism: to a conservative condemnation of the disintegration of traditional values brought about by liberal capitalism in Falling Down, an attack on capitalist society’s conformity, superficiality and materialism in American Psycho, and to a critique of the modern mass-media society in Natural Born Killers. In connection with this criticism, all three texts finally destabilize the category of ‘evil’ itself, which is thus revealed as a social construct. 1. Introduction Artists of all times have been fascinated by the phenomenon of evil and its manifestations. The great number of artistic representations of evil that have been created as a result of this interest and that document it is equaled by a wide variety of cultural functions ascribed to evil. One of the most frequent ways for evil to manifest itself has always been through acts of violence. This is also the case in Bret Easton Ellis’s novel American Psycho (1991), Joel Schumacher’s movie Falling Down (1993), and Oliver Stone’s movie Natural Born Killers (1994). This paper investigates the different representations of evil in these ‘texts’, trying to find the respec- Florian Niedlich 222 1 The decisive moment of this transformation is when Foster commits his first and only murder by killing the neo-Nazi owner of the army-surplus store. Later in this scene, he himself remarks to his ex-wife on the phone that he is now “past the point of no return” (FD). This significant change in his personality is underscored by his symbolic shooting of his own reflection in the mirror - thus erasing his former self -, his cracked glasses, and the equally symbolic change in his attire: He replaces his white shirt and tie with a black army dress, thus completing the metamorphosis from a white-collar worker into a vigilante. (Detective Prendergast will later refer to him as “G.I. Joe” [FD].) tive forms of social criticism connected with them. In doing so, the different depictions of the American Dream will come under scrutiny as well. Particular focus is placed on the way the protagonists use violence in order to position themselves in relation to society. In the course of this analysis, beginning with Falling Down and ending with Natural Born Killers, it will become clear that this relation is an increasingly problematic one. As will be shown, what all three texts have in common is that they attribute a subversive function to violence and that they reveal the category of ‘evil’ as one that is increasingly hard to define. 2. Going Home: Joel Schumacher’s Falling Down “I’m the bad guy? […] How did that happen? I did everything they told me to.” (Falling Down [FD]) “I’m going home.” (FD) These are William Foster’s first words after having deserted his car in Los Angeles gridlock. He sets off on foot, ignoring a restraining order and heading for the house of his ex-wife to give his daughter a birthday present. What follows is a journey through urban chaos, divided into ten episodes. As Foster traverses the modern LA cityscape, his various encounters set off increasingly violent reactions on his side and thus mark the steps in his progressive transformation into a vigilante 1 . As his weapons become more dangerous, so does he. At the end of the movie, he has turned into ‘the bad guy’. But has he really? Foster is portrayed as a modern Everyman and the movie “is careful to render [his] grievances general ones” (Olson 2004: 237). The following analysis will demonstrate that, in fact, throughout the movie, he is presented in an overall positive light; i.e. as ‘the good guy’ with a righteous cause. It will be argued that this strategy plays an important role in the communication of the movie’s central message and social criticism. Foster’s first encounter is with a Korean grocery store owner whom he asks for change for the phone. Infuriated by the man’s heavily-accented English, the fact that the grocer insists on his buying something if he wants to have change and the, according to him, inflated prices, he sets about “No Time for the Innocent” 223 2 For a discussion of racist undertones in the movie see below. 3 The scene in which Foster utters these words seems to mark a moment of clarity and selfknowledge in that he (partly) becomes aware of his transformation. In this context, Whitelegg argues that the encounter with the protester works as an epiphany for Foster by making him “realise that he is not the only victim” and by “[providing] him with the words to articulate his position precisely” (1999: online). demolishing the store and “rolling back prices to 1965” (FD). At the end of the scene, he buys a can of Coca-Cola, paying the 50 cents he thinks it should cost. What is so important about this scene is that it establishes Foster right from the beginning as an ordinary person who basically just wants to ‘put things back into place’. He appears as an upright man who has no intentions to cheat anyone but who also does not want to be exploited. A similar scene takes place at the fast-food restaurant Whammyburger, in which Foster erupts with anger because the employees refuse to get him breakfast even though he arrives only a few minutes after they stopped serving it and because of the discrepancy between the restaurant’s advertising and their actual products. Again - after having obtained breakfast by threatening the employees with an automatic weapon - he pays. In both scenes, Foster is portrayed as a normal citizen restoring order and justice to a chaotic and unfair system, of which he - supposedly just like most Americans - is a victim. In the course of his ‘journey home’ Foster battles numerous other social ills and injustices which affect and offend many, especially what Carol J. Clover terms the “Average White Male consciousness” (1993: 145). For example, when the Chicano gang members, the homeless man in the park and the elderly golf players each tell him that he is trespassing ‘their’ property and when he cuts his hands on a barbed-wire fence climbing into a plastic surgeon’s garden, it is the privatization of space and the territorialized nature of cities in general that comes under attack. And towards the end of the movie, at one of the many construction sites he comes across, his fury is directed at the corruption of municipal agencies that carry out unnecessary construction work in order to maintain their inflated budgets. Since most of Foster’s conflicts are such “Everyone scenes” (Clover 1993: 140) - the objects of his rage being ones that many (Wasp) 2 moviegoers might agree on - he emerges as a victim rather than the evil one. By means of empathy, his acts of violence are rendered acts of defense against a society that, in turn, appears as hostile and aggressive. Thus, it is appropriate that his license plate reads ‘D-FENS’ and that, up to one month before, he was employed as a defense worker. But now, the Cold War being over, his country no longer needs him: “I’m obsolete. I’m not economically viable.” (FD) Just like the African American protester earlier in the movie, whose slogan (‘not economically viable’) he borrows here 3 , he has become a victim of “the current climate of downskilling, out-contracting, short-termism and Florian Niedlich 224 4 Cf. for example the sharp contrast between the ageing golfers and the plastic surgeon’s estate on the one hand and the omnipresent suffering and misery Foster comes across during his journey on the other. 5 The violent cartoon his daughter watches on TV at one point in the movie can be seen as a twisted allegory of his rebellion. In Foster’s case, the story of the clever underdog outwitting the mighty overlord is reversed: His revolt is doomed to fail. While he might be a moral lion, the vulture (! ) society is far too powerful to be defeated. 6 Note the common associations of romance, love, etc. that the name ‘Venice’ connotes. 7 The protagonist’s desperate desire to be with his family again and have a home he feels he belongs to is also expressed in his last name. worldwide employment-insecurity” (Whitelegg 1999: online). Almost all the issues tackled in the movie - from inflation, privatization of space and the growing class-divide 4 (an outcome of Reaganomics and the recession that accompanied Bush’s presidency) to a cruel job market in which people are judged only in terms of ‘economic viability’ and success and are turned into commodities that one day simply become ‘obsolete’ - are consequences of America’s liberal capitalism. The movie maintains that it is this system that is to blame for all the social injustices, inequality and poverty, materialism, and the general ruthlessness of all towards all. While Foster’s actions are certainly extreme, society is revealed as the true evil. “‘This is not a bad guy,’ director Joel Schumacher says, ‘but he’s had it.’”(Clover 1993: 138) Foster revolts against this inhumane society and fights back 5 . Yet, he is not only a rebel, but at the same time also a product of society, and a hyperbolic epitome of its perversion. But what is it he is fighting for? Does the movie offer any alternative to the capitalist society it criticizes? Foster wants to get away from the bedlam of the inner city and go home. Thus, it seems that if such an alternative is to be found, then it will certainly be this ‘home’ he is longing for. ‘Home’ for Foster - though he is not (fully) aware of this - is much more than just the house in the district of Venice 6 . It is a different idea of America and the true American Dream as he sees it. As Whitelegg aptly points out, Foster’s whole search for home is “articulated in the presentation of what has been lost” (Whitelegg 1999: online): the traditional values and ideals of America. In this context, it is telling that during his struggle with the grocery store owner right at the beginning of the movie, a cup holding small replica American flags is knocked over. As their symbolic falling to the ground indicates, it is not only William Foster who is ‘falling down’ (which is, of course, the movie’s title). With reference to the nursery rhyme “London Bridge is Falling Down”, whose melody is a kind of leitmotif of the movie, one can say that it is also the ‘bridge America’, which once brought people together, that is crumbling because its pillars - justice, equality, freedom, unity, etc. - have become corroded. The movie implies that the most important of these is family, the quintessence of harmony 7 . Accordingly, the movie ends with what may “No Time for the Innocent” 225 8 The shot evokes feelings of nostalgia through the elements included and their arrangement: family pictures of happy times past, a sleeping dog, blue light cast from an aquarium, music, etc. 9 To a certain extent, both can be said to be tragic figures. 10 Other parallels are the ‘lost’ daughter, the snow-globe, the white shirt and tie and the fact that the behavior of both becomes harsher over the course of the movie. The equation between them is made obvious in the scene in which Prendergast asks the Chicana girl Angelina for a description of the man who was the cause of her friends’ accident and she says, “He looked like you” (FD). be called a ‘nostalgic shot’ 8 of the family-video still running in the empty house. Like Arthur Miller’s Willy Loman 9 , Foster “has played by the rules of the American-dream game” (Olson 2004: 240), but has been betrayed: “I did everything they told me to. Did you know I build missiles? I help to protect America. You should be rewarded for that. Instead, they give it to the plastic surgeon. They lied to me.” (FD) The idealists and patriots have been replaced by those who satisfy the needs of a superficial society. Despite his efforts, Foster, similar to Loman, has been left behind. The movie suggests that, in the context of late capitalism, the promises of the American Dream are hollowed out, that it’s moral vision has become perverted into a materialistic pursuit of wealth and success. During his entire crusade, there is nonetheless something that eludes Foster. As Whitelegg, following Davies, rightly notes, “it is no accident that the argument that initially sets Foster on his rampage concerns a perceived overprized can of Coca-Cola. The drink signifies everything that is definitely American, and the excessive price the extent to which its associated values have been ‘polluted’.”(1999: online) While a can of Coca-Cola certainly does not signify everything, it still stands for at least one thing that is characteristically American: global consumer capitalism. Herein lies one of the central ironies of the movie: In statements such as “I’m just standing up for my rights as a consumer” (FD) in the grocery store and “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘The customer is always right’? ” (FD) at the restaurant, Foster actually seems to endorse the mechanisms and rules of the market. Thus, in scenes like these, he unconsciously subscribes to the very system he seeks to repudiate. At the end of the movie, Foster realizes that his home - both in the literal and the metaphorical sense - is irretrievably lost. His delusion ends as he has to face reality and all that is left to him is suicide at the hands of his double, Detective Prendergast. The main parallel between the two men is that both hold very similar worldviews (cf. their dialogue about the ‘sickness’ of society and the importance of family) and have recently become ‘obsolete’ 10 . However, Prendergast chooses a different way to cope with this situation. Towards the end of the movie, he proves his worth by tracing Florian Niedlich 226 11 Cf. Foster’s eloquence and his control of the language of the exchange with the grocery store owner, his arrogance in talking with the Chicano gang members, his skillful handling of their weapons while they are shown as completely incompetent, etc. 12 For an analysis of the angry-white-man figure cf. Olson. Foster’s movements, stops being submissive and gains self-confidence through several acts of emancipation, and decides that he will not retire yet. He, too, feels that society has changed in a drastic and undesirable way, but - unlike Foster - resolves to stay and act in the here and now. In simple terms, one might say that “[Foster] is extreme and dies and Prendergast is moderate and survives” (Clover 1993: 142). Another important aspect is that the stories of both men are played out along a “double axis of race and sex” (Clover 1993: 142). This already becomes clear right at the beginning of the movie, when Prendergast, stuck in the same traffic jam as Foster, stares at a billboard showing a tanned woman in a bikini next to the slogan ‘White Is For Laundry’ and a little graffiti man someone has drawn onto the poster, who is trapped between the woman’s ample breasts and is yelling ‘HELP! ! ’. The implication of the white male being victimized by ethnic and female Others is obvious. Especially racist undertones can be traced throughout the movie. Apart from the clearly stereotypical representation of ethnic minorities, the fact that Foster is repeatedly shown “as a representative of a superior culture” 11 (Light 1999: 149) and several openly xenophobic remarks, the movie’s central message of the loss of traditional values is conveyed in racial terms as well. “I’m going home! Clear the path, you motherfucker! ” (FD) Foster shouts after one of the Chicano youths and in light of all that has already been said, it becomes alarmingly clear that ‘home’ does not only indicate a different America based on more traditional values, but an exclusively Waspish America (with the Wasp family as its nucleus) and that everyone in his way, all the ethnic Others he encounters, are therefore obstacles to the realization of this ideal. Thus, capitalism is not the only evil; the corruption of America as Foster sees it is equally the result of a growing ethnic and cultural diversity. The victimized Angry White Man’s 12 only option is to resort to violence in order to defend himself and assert his sense of self by excluding a racialized Other. 3. Surface, surface, surface: Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho “[T]he world is senseless. Evil is its only permanence.” (American Psycho 375 [AP]) Moving on from William Foster to Patrick Bateman means making quite a big leap. While Foster commits ‘only’ one intentional murder, Bateman is a serial “No Time for the Innocent” 227 13 Trans.: ‘Patrick Bateman and his world represent the shape the American Dream took in the eighties.’ 14 Of course, one can argue about whether all these acts and signs are real after all. While Bateman is certainly an unreliable narrator, this question, however, cannot be settled, since the novel seems to remain intentionally ambiguous about the authenticity of Bateman’s narrative. In this paper, these acts and signs are assumed as real, not imagined. killer who has tortured and murdered people for years. Bateman, the narrator and protagonist of the book, relates his countless killings in meticulous detail and a purely descriptive, detached tone. This style is consistent throughout the novel, and the fact that he uses it equally to recount trivialities such as his morning ritual of body care and hygiene, as well as gruesome acts of violence and torture, increases the shocking and disturbing effect of the narrative. But what exactly is it that makes him carry out all these horrific deeds? At first glance, there seems to be no reason for his homicidal behavior. He is well-educated, attractive, has a high-paying job on Wall Street, is popular with women, has many friends and is extremely rich. In a word, he represents the archetypal yuppie. As Ursula Voßmann puts it: “Patrick Bateman und seine Welt repräsentieren den Amerikanischen Traum in der Ausformung, die er in den achtziger Jahren annahm.” 13 (Voßmann 2000: 17) Thus, on the surface, he seems to lead a fulfilled life. However, a closer look at it will reveal that this is not at all the case. “My life is a living hell,” (AP 141) Bateman tells his peers twice in the novel. But, as with his numerous confessions, nobody pays any attention. Indeed, this fact is certainly one of the main reasons for his feeling about his life the way he does. All they ever talk about are banalities, nothing substantial. Genuine communication has become an impossibility in Bateman’s circles. Despite the fact that he constantly goes out with other people, he has no real friends. Even with his girlfriend and his mistress there is no understanding or intimacy, let alone love: “Sex is mathematics. […] Desire - meaningless. […] Love cannot be trusted.” (AP 375) Everyone, Bateman included, has lost their ability to truly connect with others and suffers from a “severely impaired capacity to feel” (AP 343). This also entails the characters’ utter lack of sympathy and concern, which is already hinted at in the lyrics by the Talking Heads, one of the three forewords of the novel: “And as things fell apart [/ ] Nobody paid much attention” (AP n.pag.). This indifference is one of the main character traits of almost all the figures and accounts in part for the fact that, in spite of Bateman’s frequent public acts of violence and all the obvious signs the others are constantly faced with, he is never caught 14 . As Bateman points out: “Fear, recrimination, innocence, sympathy, guilt, waste, failure, grief, [are] things, emotions, that no one really [feels] anymore.” (AP 375) It is therefore appropriate that, at one point in the novel, Florian Niedlich 228 15 At the same time, this superficiality is another reason for Bateman’s never being caught: Due to his perfect façade, he simply never arouses any suspicion. 16 Trans.: ‘…the paper quality, color, and font of the business cards completely replace the characteristics of human beings’. 17 As Ursula Voßmann points out, the novel as a whole can be read as a caricature of and critical response to the Reagan era. There is no room here to discuss this in detail. In this he asks himself: “If I were an actual automaton what difference would there really be? ” (AP 343) Indeed, his apathy and the monotony of his life are reminiscent of a machine. The characters’ callousness, indifference, and estrangement from each other are so profound that they mistake one another’s identities throughout the novel. Another reason for these confusions is the fact that they are all interchangeable. The following conversation between Bateman and his girlfriend illustrates this: “‘Why Price? [’] […] ‘He’s rich,’ I say. ‘Everybody’s rich,’ she says […]. ‘He’s good-looking,’ I tell her. ‘Everybody’s good-looking, Patrick,’ she says remotely. ‘He has a great body,’ I say. ‘Everybody has a great body now,’ she says.” (AP 23) Bateman himself realizes: “Individuality [is] no longer an issue.” (AP 375) There are mainly two reasons for this: The first is that society as it is portrayed in the novel forces the individual into conformity. When asked why he still keeps on working even though he hates his job, Bateman replies that he just wants to fit in (cf. AP 237). And later on, during one of his nervous breakdowns, he recognizes that his entire socialization, all he has been taught - “principles, distinctions, choices, morals, compromises, knowledge, unity, prayer” - had only one purpose; “All it came down to was: die or adapt.” (AP 345) The second reason is everyone’s superficiality: “Surface, surface, surface was all that anyone found meaning in” 15 (AP 375). That the reader is dealing with a society in which nothing but appearances matter finds expression in Bateman’s characterization of other people, which consists solely of detailed descriptions of their clothing. It is a culture in which “Papierqualität, Farbe und Schrifttype der [Visitenkarten] das Charakteristische der Menschen vollständig […] [ersetzen]” 16 (Hurst 2001: 449). “[I]dentity becomes the sum of product labels with which the body is adorned.” (Messier 2004: online) At this point, the connection between society’s shallowness and the characters’ fetishization of material goods becomes evident. Apart from this sense of conspicuous consumption and ‘identity construction’, there is yet another reason for their rampant consumerism: It is a way to compensate for the meaninglessness of their lives. Bateman’s impression that “some kind of existential chasm opens before [him] while [he’s] browsing in Bloomingdale’s” and his concurrent feeling of “emptiness” (AP 179) clearly indicate this. Materialism and mass consumerism were characteristic trends of the Reagan era 17 . Another one was liberal capitalism. The novel reflects this and pushes “No Time for the Innocent” 229 context it may be added that American Psycho bears many resemblances to Martin Amis’s excellent novel Money: A Suicide Note (London: Jonathan Cape, 1984), which is an equally pungent criticism of the Thatcher (as well as the Reagan) era. 18 Trans.: ‘The late capitalist social order, as Ellis depicts it in American Psycho, turns humans into commodities’. 19 Trans.: ‘On the basis of the moral and cultural decline of the America of the eighties, American Psycho turns the glorified utopia of the Reagan era into an apocalyptic dystopia.’ 20 This is, of course, a highly allegorical reading of the text. The following argument will be set out within the framework of a more ‘literal’ reading. 21 His constant worry about the look of his hair is an obvious symptom of this insecurity. it to the extreme by showing the characters’ greed, the importance conferred upon capitalist success as the basis of social approval, and the corrupting influence of capitalism in general. When Bateman relates that the prostitutes are “bleeding but well paid” (AP 176), how, despite “major reservations”, one of them is induced to go with him again because “the money [he has] offered is simply too good” (AP 284) and when he “admit[s] to [himself] what a turnon it is encouraging [the] girls to debase themselves in front of [him] for what amounts to pocket change” (AP 301), money is shown as the root of the decline in morals. Christian Moser deduces: “Die spätkapitalistische Gesellschaftsordnung, wie sie Ellis in American Psycho vorführt, verwandelt den Menschen in eine Ware” 18 (2005: 122). This objectification of human existence reaches a terrible climax in the chapter sarcastically entitled “The Best City for Business”: It is implied that the real estate agency trying to sell Paul Owen’s apartment made the corpses, which Bateman had deposited there, disappear in order to avoid anything becoming public knowledge for fear of the decline in value which this would entail (cf. AP 366ff.). In this case, the perverted capitalist society functions as the murderer’s accomplice. The first phrase of the book, borrowed from Dante’s Divina Commedia, in which it is inscribed onto the gate of hell, demands: “ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE” (AP 3). It has been shown that the world of Patrick Bateman is indeed a kind of social hell. “American Psycho verkehrt die glorifizierte Utopie der Reagan Ära anhand des moralisch[en und] kulturellen Verfalls des Amerikas der achtziger Jahre in eine apokalyptische Dystopie.” 19 (Voßmann 2000: 113) As the yuppie turns into a psychopath, the American Dream of the 1980s - whose embodiment he is - turns into a nightmare 20 . Bateman’s acts of violence, cannibalism and necrophilia can be read as a fundamental reaction to the ‘hell’ in which he lives. It has two dimensions: an inward, psychological and an outward, subversive one. Over the course of the novel, it becomes clear that Bateman suffers tremendously. Inside, he is insecure 21 , sad, and above all lonely: “‘I just want to be loved,’” (AP 345) he sobs during a breakdown. This desire to be loved and fear of being rejected account for the fact that he frequently gets terribly upset about remarks disparaging yuppies, and at least in part also for his taste of music, since the three artists he mentions - Genesis, Whitney Hous- Florian Niedlich 230 22 In light of this paper’s line of argument, which establishes an immediate relation between the protagonist’s needs and his violence, it is telling that in Mary Harron’s film adaptation Bateman’s comments on music and his killings are combined. 23 Trans.: ‘… the continuation and escalation of the indirect violence of a social space void of meaning’. 24 Trans.: ‘An emotional vacuum and a communication breakdown make up the basis of his lust to kill.’ 25 Cf. Hurst 2001: 452, and Kohns 2001. ton, and Huey Lewis and the News - wrote many popular love songs, a few of which he even discusses. These songs can be said to reflect all that he is longing for 22 . Bateman’s violence, then, is much more than a thrill in an otherwise dreary life. As Hubert Winkels aptly points out, it is “‘[die] Fortsetzung und Steigerung der indirekten Gewalt eines sinnentleerten sozialen Raums’” 23 (quoted in: Hurst 2001: 454). “Emotionales Vakuum und gestörte Kommunikation bilden das Fundament seiner Mordlust.” 24 (Hurst 2001: 451) Violence, for Bateman, is a way to sublimate his repressed feelings, needs and drives. At one point in the novel, he himself states: “[M]y need to engage in … homicidal behavior on a massive scale cannot be, um, corrected, […] [b]ut I … have no other way to express my blocked … needs.” (AP 338) The novel implies that among the things he represses are also homosexual tendencies. His erection during a concert of the Irish band U2, caused by what resembles a kind of ‘homoerotic epiphany’ triggered by the lead singer Bono, his insecurity during the encounters with Luis Carruthers, and his hate of all “faggot[s]” (AP 295) all point in this direction. Furthermore, in the context of sublimation, Bateman’s acts of cannibalism can be interpreted as attempts to regain the lost relationship with other human beings and an archaic kind of communication 25 . The only scene in the whole novel in which the possibility of a true connection with another person opens up occurs toward the end, in a chapter appropriately entitled “End of the 1980s”. Bateman is having brunch with his secretary, Jean, when she tells him that she is in love with him. In this key chapter of the book the opposite worlds of Bateman and Jean (“a totally different world” [AP 378]) converge and, for the first and only time, reform, a genuine relationship, and thus an escape from Bateman’s hell seem possible. With her hopeful naivety and innocence, her true affection, and her optimistic love of life she differs from all the other characters in the novel and clearly represents an alternative way of being in the world (she is, in a way, the personification of the ‘end of the 1980s’) and thus, to Bateman, redemption. He himself realizes this: “I get an odd feeling that this is a crucial moment in my life and I’m startled by the suddenness of what I guess passes for an epiphany.” (AP 378) He feels that “she wants to rearrange [his] life in a significant way” (AP 378), and for a moment he even believes that he “might have the capacity to accept, though not return, her love” (AP 379). Yet, “No Time for the Innocent” 231 26 They actually do seem to be a couple afterwards, for, toward the end of the novel, Bateman talks about “taking Jean home, back to [his] place” (AP 389). 27 Just like the novel itself, e.g. through its extremely detailed descriptions of sex and violence, challenges literary conventions. 28 Cf. AP 346: “I place the gun, which is a symbol of order to me, back in the locker […].” (emphasis added) 29 Trans.: ‘The self becomes the central authority of creation of meaning.’ In this context and with reference to the social criticism of the members of the Frankfurt School, particularly Horkheimer and Adorno, Bateman and serial killers in general can be read as the embodiment of the principles of Enlightenment pushed to the extreme and turned upon themselves. For such a reading cf. also Hurst 2001. 30 Cf. Kohns 2001: 436f. He compares Bateman to a modern artist whose work is entirely selfreferential. Bateman seems to be beyond redemption. In spite of the fact that the chapter ends with the implication that there might be a shared future (cf. his taking her hand, the two and a baby looking at each other) 26 and with the words “I feel I’m moving toward as well as away from something, and anything is possible” (AP 380), nothing seems to change. On the contrary, his delusions get worse and his disintegration accelerates. And even though there are no more killing scenes after this, it is highly doubtful that Bateman will be able to stop. As he declares himself: “This relationship will probably lead to nothing … this didn’t change anything.” (AP 379) Despite everything, throughout the episode with Jean, there is always Madonna - like an omnipresent reminder - singing “‘life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone’” (AP 373) and the novel, whose opening lines implied that the world to be witnessed would be hell, ends with the words “THIS IS NOT AN EXIT” (AP 399). In spite of Jean, there is no escape, and “there is no catharsis” (AP 377). By killing and torturing others as a way to cope with his repressed emotions and drives, Bateman also revolts against society. This is the subversive dimension of his behavior. Through his violence, he breaks away from all accepted conventions 27 and defies an inhumane society that denies the fulfillment of essential needs. But there is more to it: The novel depicts a world that is cruel, chaotic, increasingly hyperreal, devoid of values and morals and, above all, meaningless. While Bateman reproduces this meaninglessness, he also counters it by creating his own meaningful universe, in which he can control events, which is ordered 28 and coherent. “[D]as Ich wird zur zentralen Instanz der Sinnsetzung.” 29 (Hurst 2001: 444) Creating pain, to him, means producing stable signs, “something that’s identifiable” (AP 391), and thus challenging the hyperrealism and the arbitrary signs of the information society. Thus, pain becomes synonymous with meaning 30 . When, after having slaughtered two escort girls and possibly eaten parts of them, he uses the blood of one of the corpses to scrawl the words “I AM BACK” (AP 306) on a wall, it seems that his violence also functions as a way to assert his existence, even something that comes close to an otherwise impossible individuality: “Als Kannibale[/ Serienmörder] kann sich Bateman als der schlechthin Florian Niedlich 232 31 Trans.: ‘As cannibal/ serial killer, Bateman can regard himself as the absolute Other.’ 32 Cf. also the scene in which he is actually accidentally called Batman and the one in which, after yet another killing, he is running down Broadway, “screaming like a banshee, [his] coat open, flying out behind [him] like some kind of cape” (AP 166, emphasis added). 33 His violence can also be read as an allegory of the collective violence of capitalist culture, his cannibalism as an extreme form of consumption. For such a reading cf. Voßmann 2000: 123. Andere fühlen.” 31 (Kohns 2001: 437) In this reading, his acts appear almost heroic - an ambiguity aptly expressed in his last name, which recalls Hitchcock’s psychopath Norman Bates as well as DC Comics’ superhero Batman 32 . Just like William Foster, Patrick Bateman is a product of society; its representative 33 , victim, and antagonist all at once. As in Falling Down, the capitalist society is shown as the true evil and the protagonist’s violence as a form of rebellion against it. However, unlike Schumacher’s movie, the novel does not offer any alternative to this reality. While in the figure of Jean, the reader is granted a vague idea of what such a different world may look like, it is always out of reach. Thus, while on a certain level, Bateman still wants to belong and ‘fit in’, he is nevertheless already far from society, “simply imitating reality” (AP 282) and creating his own perverse universe outside of it. Also, much more so than in Falling Down, ‘evil’ becomes an increasingly elusive concept in Ellis’s novel. Figures that could be described as good are absent, there is no positive double as Foster’s Prendergast, Bateman goes unpunished and, most importantly, in the novel’s world “there is no ‘culture’ or ‘humanity’ which would set boundaries or define Bateman’s actions as evil; what he does is so free of censure that it is not seen, not heard, and in a sense, does not happen at all” (Messier 2004: online). 4. Outside of Society: Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers “Everybody got the demon in here, okay. The demon lives in here. It feeds on your hate. It cuts, kills, rapes. It uses your weakness, your fear.” (Natural Born Killers [NBK]) “I’m a natural born killer.” (NBK) This statement could not have been uttered by William Foster or Patrick Bateman. While so far the protagonists’ violence has been attributed solely to social circumstances, in Natural Born Killers a new factor comes into play: genetics. Asked about when he first thought about killing, protagonist Mickey Knox replies: “Birth - I was thrown into a flaming pit of scum, forgotten by God.” (NBK) And he continues: “I mean I came from violence. It was in my blood. My daddy had it. His daddy had it. It was all just my fate. […] The wolf don’t know why he’s a wolf. The deer don’t “No Time for the Innocent” 233 know why he’s a deer. God just made it that way.” (NBK) His wife Mallory, too, acknowledges this biological determinism as the reason for their actions when she sings: “I guess I was born, naturally born, born bad.” (NBK) What Stone’s movie is about is not an essentialist notion of evil, but the predatory nature of man. This is the ‘demon’ everybody has inside. We are all ‘natural born killers’. Mickey and Mallory are simply the only ones who embrace this nature and do not bother to restrain it. Apart from the predatory images of wolves, snakes, hawks, etc. that appear throughout the movie, this notion is reinforced by the violent outbreaks of supposedly ‘normal’ or ‘good’ characters such as policeman Jack Scagnetti, who murders a prostitute, and journalist Wayne Gale, who, fulfilling Mickey’s prediction, realizes his “true calling in life” (NBK) once he gets a hold of a gun and starts shooting people. Director Oliver Stone confirms such a naturalistic reading: “I believe that all of us are born violent - we’re natural-born aggressors. We have a million-year-old reptilian brain with a neo-cortex of civilisation on top, but it’s doing a bad job of concealing the aggression.” (in: Smith 2000: 163) In terms of psychoanalysis, then, the movie illustrates the fundamental conflict between the Freudian superego and id. When the three teenagers interviewed for Gale’s TV show American Maniacs proclaim that they do not “believe in mass murder or that shit” and “respect human life and all” (NBK), but that if they were mass murderers, they would be Mickey and Mallory, this clash between the superstructure of social norms and values and their innate aggressive drives becomes evident. The great popularity of the homicidal couple is not only due to their idolization and glamorization by the media, but also to the fact that they appeal to these archaic drives in every human. In this context, Mickey and Mallory may also be understood as a personification of (one part of) the id. Thus, by chasing them in order to arrest them, Detective Scagnetti, whose otherwise repressed drives ‘slip out’ of his unconscious and take over as he strangles the prostitute, all the while muttering “Just kidding…” (NBK), is actually chasing after his own id. By mastering and controlling them, he wants to master and control himself. In this scene, as throughout the movie, many of the inserted shots represent the characters’ speech, thoughts and feelings. Above all, they function as visualizations of their repressed memories and emotions, their unconscious drives and desires. Just like animals, Mickey and Mallory only act according to their true nature. Yet, this biological determinism is undercut by the constant flashbacks to their traumatic childhood experiences: Mallory was beaten and raped for years and Mickey, too, had an abusive father, who later committed suicide. As the Indian recognizes, both (even though he says so only in relation to Mallory) suffer from the “sad sickness” (NBK). Thus, “[k]illing is a combination of genetics and environment” (Stone in: Smith 2000: 163). This applies to Scagnetti as well: He came to specialize in hunting down “psychos” (NBK) because his mother was one of the victims killed by Charles Florian Niedlich 234 34 Cf. also Stone in: Smith 2000: 162. 35 Cf. Hochenedel 1995: online: “The shaman symbolizes Jesus, the willing victim […]. Like Jesus, he is both victim and prophet of his own death.” Whitman in Austin, Texas in 1966. When a shot of Scagnetti murdering the prostitute is briefly inserted just after he has mentioned this, it becomes clear that he too is driven by a childhood trauma. In one of the movie’s most crucial episodes, the Indian tries to free Mickey and Mallory from their pain. While the two are asleep, the old man tries to bring about a cathartic experience by invoking their (especially Mickey’s) repressed childhood memories. Whether this attempt to initiate healing through re-enactment - one might say to ‘exorcize the demons’ that are their traumata - succeeds, remains unclear: While they excessively continue to kill during their escape, Mickey does seem to have changed when he is interviewed by Gale 34 and affirms twice that they are going to stop killing because “[t]he old man took it out of [them]” (NBK). In any case, Mickey wakes up from his nightmares in a rage and unintentionally shoots the Indian. This murder is significant in so far as it is the only one in the entire movie that makes them feel guilt and regret. In a way, it marks their loss of innocence. In the pair’s eyes, he did not deserve to die because he “lived outside the media-polluted world […] [and] was a cosmic fellow traveler, a natural man” (Courtwright 2000: 201). There are also strong religious undertones in this scene. After Mickey’s and Mallory’s arrival, the old man tells his grandson the story of a woman who finds a frozen snake and nurses it back to health. When it bites and lethally wounds her, she asks the snake why it did that and it replies: “‘Look bitch, you knew I was a snake.’” (NBK) Just as it is the very nature of the snake to bite, so it is also the couple’s nature to kill. Unlike the woman in his parable, the Indian is quite aware of this fact and accepts what seems to be his fate: “Twenty years ago, I saw the demon in my dreams. I was waiting for you.” (NBK) In biblical terms, the snake - which is associated with Mickey and Mallory throughout the movie (cf. e.g. their wedding rings and the tattoo on Mickey’s chest) - is a symbol of temptation and sin. The killing of the Indian, who represents the sacred and possibly Jesus 35 , is Mickey and Mallory’s original sin. In their ensuing ‘fall from grace’ they are separated and thus banned from paradise (cf. Mickey’s later remark that being with Mallory “was just like being in the Garden of Eden” [NBK]) and sent to the hell of Batongaville penitentiary. On yet another level, the episode with the Indian can also be read as an allegory of America’s loss of innocence. Thus, Mickey’s offer to exchange their tobacco for some fuel and the murder seem to allude to the trade, exploitation and massacre that marked the ‘beginning’ of America - the nation’s innocence was already lost long before it was actually founded. It is implied that this corruption is perpetuated through modern injustices such as “No Time for the Innocent” 235 36 It should be noted that, while there are many allusions in this episode, they lack a consistent logic that would permit more than a fragmentary allegorical reading, both in terms of religion and of American history. 37 Nonetheless, from a psychoanalytic point of view that ascribes their behavior to the abuse they suffered during their youth, their violence may have a purpose after all, namely to become popular (cf. the fact that they always leave one person alive to tell the tale and Mickey’s eager questions about the ratings they caused). This ambition could then be understood as a profound desire to be loved. the Vietnam War, in which the Indian’s son was killed. Given this corruption, it is appropriate that towards the end of the scene, we glimpse an American flag hanging upside-down on a wall 36 . The movie remains ambivalent not only about the roots of the couple’s violence, but also with regard to its purpose. In light of the fact that killing is part of their nature, there seems to be no objective at all. Unlike Warren Beatty’s Bonnie and Clyde, who dream of freedom and riches and with whom Mickey and Mallory otherwise have much in common, Stone’s killers just live out their predatory nature and “kill because they kill, there’s no moral sense or excuse for it” (Stone in: Smith 2000: 165). This is a radical difference to William Foster and Patrick Bateman: violence for violence’s sake 37 . Yet, there is also more to it. When, at the very end of the movie, Mickey explains to Gale why they have to execute him by saying, “Killing you and what you represent is a statement” (NBK), it becomes clear that their violence is not entirely self-referential after all. For what Gale symbolizes are, of course, the media. Just like the implied author of the movie, Mickey and Mallory are harsh critics of the media. Similar to the movie as a whole, the couple exploits the sensationalism of the media in order to turn it against itself. One of the main points of criticism is certainly the media’s obsession with violence. As Mickey phrases it while he is changing TV channels and finds nothing but violence: “I’ve been thinking about why they’re making all these stupid fuckin’ movies. Anybody out there in Hollywood believing in kissing anymore? ” (NBK) But the audience just gets what it wants after all. The last shot of the episode in which Mickey and Mallory are arrested has the policemen brutally beat Mickey up while a television crew is standing by, filming everything for their live broadcast. Above this symbolic scene towers the big sign of the drugstore that reads ‘Drug Zone’. It is this kind of violence that people are addicted to; this voyeurism is their drug. This obsession finds its most satirical expression in the fact that the transmission of Gale’s interview with Mickey coincides with that of the Super Bowl. The mass murderer has become as important and exciting as the cultural institution of the biggest sports event in America. But the media are not content with the mere representation of violence. Tabloid-TV shows such as Wayne Gale’s American Maniacs make killers like Mickey and Mallory not only into celebrities, but even into sexual icons and objects of desire. This association of violence and Florian Niedlich 236 38 Trans.: ‘The media and their agents are destroyed in the maelstrom of their own effectualness.’ 39 The movie stands out as highly self-reflexive in that the director is clearly aware of his movie’s complicity in the representation and exploitation of violence and constantly reflects and undermines this. Moreover, there is a meta-fictional level to the movie, so that it can also be read as an investigation into the limits of filmic representation. Unfortunately, there is no room here to elaborate on this. sex/ virility is satirized in the scene of the couple’s arrest that has already been mentioned. The news reporter describes this violent scene as follows: “Mickey’s quite virile”, “He has a very large gun”, and, when he is finally subdued, “He’s now rendered impotent” (NBK). The confusion of these two categories is also manifest in the Knox’s numerous fans carrying T-Shirts and banners that read ‘Murder me, Mickey! ’, etc. and who state that the two are “hot” (NBK). Another important aspect is the desensitizing effect of the excess of media violence. The movie implies that Mickey’s and Mallory’s “lack of sensitivity is due to desensitization to violence by too much exposure to media” (Hochenedel 1995: online). This relation between violence/ evil and media is made clear metaphorically through Gale’s participation in the killing of the prison riot and more openly at the Indian’s place when the words ‘demon’ and ‘too much t.v.’ are projected across the couple’s chests. As Stone puts it: “‘These two kids are desensitized […] to their environment - by their parents, by their upbringing, and above all by television.’” (quoted in: Courtwright 2000: 200) Their actions can be interpreted as a rebellion against the media society - however, just like Foster and Bateman, they are also products of this society and “have fully internalized the logic of television” (Beller 1998: 65). In Warden McClusky’s words: “The two are a walking reminder of how fucked-up this system really is.” (NBK) Thus, one might say that Mickey and Mallory represent the system turning against itself. When they shoot Gale, the creation destroys the creator just like “Frankenstein killed Dr Frankenstein” (NBK) and at the end the camera replaces the human being. “Die Medien und ihre Vertreter gehen im Sog ihrer eigenen Wirkungskraft unter.” 38 (Hurst 2001: 456) The movie’s critical attitude towards the media is also reflected in its highly unconventional form, which has been called a “phantasmagoria of aesthetic anarchy” (Smith 2000: 160). It is a postmodern collage that excessively mixes and plays with all kinds of movie genres, styles and techniques and comes very close to an audio-visual overkill. Thus, as Hurst shows, McLuhan’s identification of medium and message - i.e. violence - is fully realized. The movie self-reflexively 39 mirrors the form of the media: Der Angriff auf die Sinne der Zuschauer, die visuelle Fragmentierung der Welt, die ihrerseits eine neue synthetische Welt erzeugt, und die zügellose Kombination unterschiedlichster Stile, die sich zu einem einzigen chaotischen “No Time for the Innocent” 237 40 Trans.: ‘The assault on the senses of the viewers, the visual fragmentation of the world, which, for its part, creates a new synthetic world, and the unrestrained combination of the most different styles imaginable, which merge into one chaotic plethora of images, after all represent nothing else but the equally destructive and creative forces of the media, which destroy one reality in order to create another one.’ 41 Which is, of course, the title of one of Nietzsche’s most famous books. 42 The fact that at least Mickey is also a fatalist (cf. his numerous references to fate throughout the movie) reinforces their position. Since he sees all events as inevitable and determined by factors beyond his control, he is unburdened by feelings of guilt and responsibility. Bildersturm mischen, repräsentieren ja nichts anderes als die gleichermaßen destruktiven und kreativen Kräfte der Medien, die eine Realität zerstören, um eine andere Realität zu schaffen. 40 (Hurst 2001: 457) This new reality is the fragmented postmodern reality, is Baudrillard’s hyperreality, in which images have supplanted the real. Accordingly, the mise-en-scène of the movie is a “mediascape” (Beller 1998: 57). Stone’s movie continues what Ellis’s novel began. Not only is society, in this case particularly the sensationalist media, implicitly criticized for creating circumstances in which destructive dispositions are generated and cultivated and consequently again depicted as evil, but as in American Psycho ‘evil’ becomes more and more relative. “This film resists the traditional categories of good and evil, law and lawlessness; rather it deconstructs these categories by portraying the cop and even some of the victims (Mallory’s parents for instance) as criminals.” (Hochenedel 1995: online) There is no ‘good guy’ whose behavior would function as a foil to Mickey’s and Mallory’s acts and qualify them as evil; all the main characters are morally corrupt and aggressive. Violence is shown as part of man’s nature; not as evil, but natural. But the movie does not stop there. In the interview with Gale, it becomes clear that (apart from shooting the Indian) Mickey feels neither regret, which he regards as a “wasted emotion” (NBK), nor guilt, that quite on the contrary he considers murder not only as ordinary but even “pure” (NBK). “[T]raditional morality has no authority in Mickey’s life.” (Hochenedel 1995: online) He simply rejects it and establishes his own moral standards. As Hochenedel’s excellent analysis demonstrates, “[s]uch ethics are unmistakably Nietzschean” (1995: online). To Mickey and Mallory, there are no absolute moral truths. All norms and values are just arbitrary conventions. With this realization they have moved beyond good and evil 41 . As the Patti Smith song “Rock N Roll Nigger”, which appears several times throughout the movie, proclaims, Mickey and Mallory stand ‘outside of society’. Unlike Bateman, they have freed themselves from all social conventions. 42 The “moment of realization” (NBK), in which Mickey understood “that he can choose whether to be afraid or angry and that the value of the world around him […] depends on the value he attributes to it is liberating” (Hochenedel 1995: online). All traditional standards destroyed, Mickey and Mallory are free Florian Niedlich 238 43 Despite everything that has been said, Mickey still feels a need for salvation and forgiveness. While he finds such redemption in the worldly power of love embodied by Mallory (cf. “Now, you know the only thing that kills the demon: love. That’s how I know that Mallory was my salvation.” [NBK] and the lyrics “Love’s the only engine of survival” of Leonard Cohen’s closing song “The Future”) and not in God, one still wonders why this need, which clearly belongs in the realm of traditional morality, is felt at all. to create new ones “as God[s] of [their] world” (NBK). They embark on what Nietzsche called the transvaluation of all values. In doing so, they evolve into Nietzschean supermen: “You will never understand, Wayne. You and me, we’re not even the same species. I used to be you, then I evolved. From where you’re standing, you’re a man. From where I’m standing, you’re an ape.” (NBK) The basis for the transvaluation is, of course, the will to power, another possible interpretation of the ‘demon’ that everyone has inside. Accordingly, all those actions are qualified as ‘good’ which intensify and increase one’s life experience and power. Freed from all restraints, the will to power finds expression - in the couple’s case - in murder. Mickey, like Mallory, “affirms his life, satisfies his desires, and denies himself nothing. While violently ending other[s’] lives, he enriches his own by appeasing his lust for power and destruction.” 43 (Hochenedel 1995: online) Without doubt, Mickey and Mallory represent a somehow distorted version of Nietzsche’s supermen and of doctrines that were in fact meant more spiritually and metaphorically. Nevertheless, the subversiveness of what they say and do is definitely Nietzschean: the realization that all ethical standards are relative, the rejection of accepted, traditional values, and the creation of new ones. In this context, ‘evil’ becomes synonymous with ‘deviant’, is simply that which is new and revolutionary and questions the established order. Thus, evil “is not merely destructive, it is also a creative force” (Hochenedel 1995: online). 5. Results “Evil is a point of view.” (Anne Rice, Interview with a Vampire) In Falling Down, American Psycho and Natural Born Killers evil manifests itself primarily through violence. It has been shown how, in all three texts, violence functions as means of subversion. It is the protagonists’ instrument to rebel against and distance themselves from society. The analysis has brought to light the increasing degree of this detachment: Schumacher’s William Foster is an opponent of the ‘new America’ and longs for more traditional values and ideals. Yet, while he wants society to change, he does not reject it. On the contrary, he desires to be reintegrated into it and live the “No Time for the Innocent” 239 American Dream. Ellis’s Patrick Bateman has what Foster desires: He is part of society. However, this belonging, his need to fit in are above all due to social constraints that pressurize the individual into conformity. His innumerable killings constitute a way for him to break free, at least temporarily, from these constraints and create his own world away from society. This tendency culminates in the life of Stone’s Mickey and Mallory Knox, who have almost completely freed themselves from all social conventions and whose violence, for the most part, can even be regarded as self-referential. As means of subversion, violence necessarily also serves as a vehicle for social criticism. While in Falling Down and American Psycho it is mainly the numerous problems caused by liberal capitalism that come under attack, the criticism of Natural Born Killers is primarily directed at the sensationalist media. In the former two, the American Dream is shown as corrupted, in Stone’s movie it is not even an issue anymore, an ideal lost a long time ago. Formally, Schumacher uses a sober realism and what may be called the ‘Everyman strategy’ to convey his message, whereas Ellis’s and Stone’s texts are postmodern satires/ pastiches. In the course of the analysis it has become clear that all protagonists are equally antagonists, products and victims of their respective society. Due to this and to the fact that, as in all three texts, society is revealed as the greatest evil, the lines between goodness and evil are already getting blurred in Falling Down. Similar to the growing alienation from society, this tendency is continued in American Psycho, where evil becomes even more elusive, and climaxes in the almost absolute relativity of Natural Born Killers. Thus, to take up Anne Rice’s phrase, evil is indeed ‘a point of view’. The three texts reveal that the category of ‘evil’ depends entirely on one’s frame of reference. It may simply be a form of subversion - a revolt against the greater evil that is the world. References Beller, Jonathan L. (1998). “Identity Through Death/ The Nature of Capital: The Media- Environment for Natural Born Killers”. Post Identity 1/ 2. 55-67. Clover, Carol J. (1993). “‘Falling Down’ and the Rise of the Average White Male”. In: Pam Cook / Philip Dodd (eds.). Women and Film: A Sight and Sound Reader. London: Scarlet Press. 138-47. Courtwright, David T. (2000). “Way Cooler Than Manson: Natural Born Killers”. In: Robert Brent Toplin (ed.). Oliver Stone’s USA: Film, History, and Controversy. Lawrence: Univ. Press of Kansas. 188-201. Ellis, Bret Easton (2000). American Psycho. London: Picador. Hochenedel, Heidi Nelson (1995). “Natural Born Killers: Beyond Good and Evil”. The Oliver Stone Web Site. http: / / www.geocities.com/ Hollywood/ 2682/ heidi1.htm (accessed 13 August 2006). Florian Niedlich 240 Hurst, Matthias (2001). Im Spannungsfeld der Aufklärung: Von Schillers “Geisterseher” zur TV-Serie “The X-Files”: Rationalismus und Irrationalismus in Literatur, Film und Fernsehen 1786-1999. Heidelberg: Winter. Kohns, Oliver (2001). “Kannibalische Nachrichtentechnik. Bret Easton Ellis’ American Psycho und Marcel Beyers Das Menschenfleisch”. In: Daniel Fulda / Walter Pape (eds.). Das Andere Essen. Kannibalismus als Motiv und Metapher in der Literatur. Freiburg im Breisgau: Rombach. 411-42. Light, Andrew (1999). “Boyz in the Woods: Urban Wilderness in American Cinema”. In: Michael Bennett / David W. Teague (eds.). The Nature of Cities: Ecocriticism and Urban Environments. Tucson: Univ. of Arizona Press. 137-56. Messier, Vartan (2004). Canons of Transgression: Shock, Scandal, and Subversion from Matthew Lewis’ “The Monk” to Bret Easton Ellis’ “American Psycho”. University of Puerto Rico Web Site. http: / / grad.uprm.edu/ tesis/ messiervartan.pdf (accessed 8 August 2006). Moser, Christian (2004). Kannibalische Katharsis: Literarische und filmische Inszenierungen der Anthropophagie von James Cook bis Bret Easton Ellis. Bielefeld: Aisthesis. Olson, Greta (2004). “Inarticulate, Violent White Men”. In: Michael Draxlbauer / Astrid M. Fellner / Thomas Fröschl (eds.). (Anti-)Americanisms. Wien: Lit. 233-51. Schumacher, Joel (dir.) (1993). Falling Down. Warner Brothers. Smith, Gavin (2000). “Oliver Stone: Why Do I Have To Provoke? ”. In: José Arroyo (ed.). Action/ Spectacle Cinema: A Sight and Sound Reader. London: British Film Institute. 158-68. Stone, Oliver (dir.) (1994). Natural Born Killers. Warner Brothers. Voßmann, Ursula (2000). Paradise Dreamed: Die Hölle der 80er Jahre in Bret Easton Ellis’ Roman “American Psycho”. Essen: Die Blaue Eule. Whitelegg, Drew (2000). “‘Keeping Them Peeled’: Falling Down, Vision and Experience in the Modern City.” Scope: An Online Journal of Film Studies. http: / / wubi006.bibliothek.uniwuerzburg.de/ InfoGuideClient/ availability.do? methodToCall=runAvailabilityCheck& curPos=3&identifier=1_24192___IG.33.24192&IGRSCPos=26 (accessed 20 July 2006). Florian Niedlich Neuphilologisches Institut - Anglistik und Amerikanistik Julius-Maximilians-Universität Würzburg 1 For a wide-ranging consideration of Labour’s ‘problem’ with affluence see Black (2003). AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen Moral Objection or Trading Imperative? The British Consumer Co-operative Movement Responds to Commercial Television in the 1950s Alan Burton While the introduction of commercial television in Britain in 1955 has attracted much comment and analysis, the role of the powerful Consumer Co-operative Movement in resisting change in broadcasting at this time has remained unrecognised. In an unprecedented move within the labour movement, the Co-operative Wholesale Society made approaches to the authorities regarding the acquisition of a franchise to operate a commercial TV station and take some control of competitive broadcasting. This bold action put the Co-operative Movement at the centre of the debate on the new proposals for television during the final reading of the Bill in the House of Commons. This article examines the circumstances surrounding the intervention by the Co-operators into TV policy, the criticisms within the Movement of any further extension of materialism during a period of broadening affluence, and its role in the stormy period leading to the establishment of commercial television in Britain. Commercial television was introduced into Britain in the middle 1950s. It proved an enormous cultural and political event, ending the BBC’s threedecade long broadcasting monopoly and marking the new ‘age of affluence’ that had replaced the austerity of the wartime period. While the issue is much studied, and not least from the perspective of the Left’s critical attitude to competition in broadcasting and a further entrenchment of commercialisation in British society, the place of the influential Consumer Co-operative Movement in the divisive debate has remained unrecorded. 1 Curiously, Bert Hogenkamp’s Film, Television and the Left 1950-1970 ignores the establishment of commercial TV, and Des Freedman’s more focussed Television Policies of the Labour Party 1951-2001 has very little to say about the Co- Alan Burton 242 2 I have found no evidence from the Co-op side that the Movement made a further bid for an ITV franchise at this time. 3 The Labour Party was split rather more on the lines of those traditionally against materialism and a smaller group of modernisers. See (Freedman 2003: 8-25). operative Movement and its concerns about the new service, although he makes opportunity to consider the Trade Union Congress and its actions in view of commercialisation. In an otherwise important article, Lawrence Black makes the rather mistaken statement that around the time of the Pilkington Report (1962), “The ITA [Independent Television Authority] rejected a franchise bid from a Co-operative movement consortium” (Black 2005: 566). 2 As will be demonstrated, the application came specifically from the Co-operative Wholesale Society (CWS) sometime in 1952-3 during the height of the contentious debate regarding the commercialisation of television broadcasting. Thus, the existing literature shows some ignorance and confusion concerning the Co-operative Movement and its conflicting interests in relation to the issue of commercialised television, being both a significant labour organisation and a substantial trading concern that conceivably had something to gain from the change. The prospect of commercial TV, funded through advertising, was a considerable contradiction for the Co-operative Movement to confront. On the one hand, there was a firm resistance among its cultural and educational leaders to the American model of sponsored television programmes, which, it was felt, would degrade the quality of programming and potentially allow a sinister influence to advertisers. On the other hand, the Movement’s trading interests, in a period of relative decline, sensed economic benefits from the marketing potential of the new service. 3 The Co-operative Movement had been founded in the middle of the nineteenth century with the aim of bringing consumers’ control to retailing. Numerous local societies enjoyed rapid success, some amalgamating into larger regional societies and the whole coordinated in national bodies such as the CWS, which deployed the united strength into distribution, manufacturing and a range of financial services. Collectively, the Co-ops were Britain’s largest business by the 1940s-50s (Birchall 1994). In particular, the wartime period had been good for the Cooperative Movement. It had serviced giant contracts for the armed services; it had secured a large customer-base with around 11m registrations tied to the Co-ops through rationing regulations; and it enjoyed a general groundswell of support arising from the New Jerusalem ethos of the time (Bonner 1970: 209-267). However, these masked some general and entrenched problems which became increasingly apparent in the 1950s: a lack of development capital; increasing competition from multiple traders; a low level of trade per member; and a perceived member apathy - for which TV was sometimes blamed (Sparks 1994; Hornsby 1989). The Movement was failing Moral Objection or Trading Imperative? 243 4 The BBC reacting to criticism had introduced an element of ‘differentiation’ in radio broadcasting at the end of the war with channels ‘targeted’ at different audiences: the populist Light Programme, the middlebrow Home Service and the highbrow Third Programme. The idea, according to a senior official, was to allow “the freest possible ‘competition’ within the BBC monopoly”. (Cited in Camporesi 1994: 274). to respond to changing consumption patterns and its ‘moral economy’ was wilting under the challenge of affluence. In 1958, a Co-operative Independent Commission was appointed to deliberate the problems and recommend measures for recovery (Co-operative Independent Commission Report 1958). The British Consumer Co-operative Movement had been among the first labour organisations in the world to bring film to its cultural and propaganda work. In 1938, Co-operators had been instrumental in the formation of the Workers’ Film Association, which included the participation of the Labour Party and the Trades Union Congress. The Co-operative Movement remained the driving force behind the post-war National Film Association (1946-53) and therefore had considerable experience in and commitment to visual propaganda. However, by the early 1950s, attention was switching from film to more modern media forms like TV (A. Burton 2005). The Emergence of Independent Television On the resumption of TV broadcasting by the BBC in June 1946, there was considerable debate regarding the service and its provision, and one critic has gone so far as to suggest “that the basic principles of the British approach to broadcasting came under a radical revision” (Camporesi 1994: 268). The Hankey and Woolton Committees had met in 1944 and the Report of the Beveridge Committee in 1951 recommended the continuation of the BBC monopoly in broadcasting. 4 White Papers were issued in 1952 and 1953 by a new Conservative Government seeking to bring competition to television broadcasting through the introduction of a commercial service. The Television Act of 1954 was the realisation of this aim, but achieved only after much passionate resistance and acrimonious exchanges (P. Burton 1981: 57-63). While there was seemingly little public demand for the new service, a group of interests in the Conservative Party were intent on forcing through commercial TV. These included free enterprise Tories for whom the BBC monopoly was deemed unacceptable and aimed at ‘liberating’ broadcasting, traditional Tory critics of the BBC and its suspected left-wing tendencies (these included Prime Minister Churchill), and Conservatives with advertising agency and electronic manufacturing interests who expected a windfall from the commercialisation of television broadcasting. The politicians had the Alan Burton 244 5 The PTA tactically referred to the new service as ‘competitive television’. 6 The Daily Mirror group and many provincial papers declared for commercial TV. 7 A detailed analysis of the fears regarding American-style commercial broadcasting can be found in (Camporesi 1994). It is pointed out here that some British listeners had developed a taste for American-style broadcasting during the war when they had tuned into the American Forces Network on radio. support of a well-organised business lobby: equipment manufacturers provided funds for the campaign and advertising agencies were among the most prominent advocates. A committee of agency executives formed in 1952 undertook much basic planning. The political work was spearheaded by the Conservative Party Broadcasting Study Group led by Ian Orr-Ewing (interests in the electronics industry), Anthony Fell (employee of Pye Radio) and Sir Wavell Wakefield (associated with Rediffusion). This group largely had the task of bringing the Party behind the measure for reform. A more public lobby group was established in 1953 with the Popular Television Association (PTA). Its propaganda repeatedly hammered on two main issues: the evils inherent in monopoly; and the certainty that British advertising would conform to British taste. The PTA was supported by the advertising industry and Conservative Central Office (Wilson 1961: 129-150; 164-179). 5 The opposition included ‘traditional’ Tories who sought to resist Americanisation and the weakening of British cultural institutions and values, demonstrating that the issue of commercial TV did not divide simply on party lines. Many newspapers developed strong editorial lines against commercial television, including the Times, the Manchester Guardian and the Observer. While declaring for a cultural rejection of commercialised broadcasting, there was clearly a fear within the press of losing advertising revenue to a competitor. 6 Numerous university vice-chancellors and religious figures joined with labour and educational groups to oppose reform, fearing the lowering of standards and the ‘cheap distraction’ of a debased TV service. All of these critics were firm advocates of the public service ethos that underpinned the BBC monopoly and rejected a free market approach to culture, which, it was believed, would lead to a vulgarised service. In June 1953, the National Television Council (NTC) was formed as a pressure group “to resist the introduction of commercial television into this country”. Labour MP and BBC broadcaster Christopher Mayhew was the moving spirit of a “cross-party campaign whose organising committee included an impressive array of lords, reverends, entertainment entrepreneurs, two viscounts and a media trade union leader” (Freedman 2003: 12). The Council sought to protect standards and values in television broadcasting and resist the increasing Americanisation of British culture. 7 Mayhew likened the campaigns to their respective broadcast causes: the PTA was “populist, mendacious, mercenary and rich”, while the NTC “like much public service broadcasting, was weighty, honest, public-spirited and poor” (cited in Black Moral Objection or Trading Imperative? 245 8 In the Lord’s debate on the first White Paper, Lord Hawke believed that some BBC programmes were “drivel”, but at least “drivel in good taste” (cited in Wilson 1961: 116). 9 Both the PTA and NTC suffered from low turn out at public meetings. 10 It has been shown that the introduction of commercial television encouraged the adoption of TV sets in lower income families (Hand undated A). See also (Hand undated B), where recent research largely confirms the standard view of the contemporary audience for ITV (populist) and the BBC (educated). 11 A similar arrangement was already in place in the film industry, which had been protected from Hollywood since 1927. 2005: 555). Surprisingly, the Labour Party had no official involvement in the campaign against commercial TV, its leaders seemingly considering TV policy in general to be less important than either press policy or matters of political broadcasting. So, the introduction of commercial television was never debated by a Labour conference, although individual Labour members did make a passionate case against reform or specific proposals in the House debates (Freedman 2003: 10-11). The official Labour position was to defend the BBC - with certain reservations - and deny the need for commercial TV. 8 If need be, an additional channel could be given to the BBC offering more choice to viewers, but within the public service framework. The evidence suggests that there was no widespread popular support for ‘commercial’ television; the public seemingly did not care who provided the extra channel. 9 Among the many ironies associated with the campaign for commercial television in Britain, it is notable that the parties were to a degree out of synch with their supporters: that is, Labour voters were most in favour of commercialisation; and far more Conservative voters were against a change that threatened cultural standards. Labour M.P. Richard Crossland observed in August 1954: “In my experience the strongest opposition comes from nonviewing Conservatives whereas Labour supporters who view regularly are chiefly concerned to have as many programmes to select from as possible” (cited in Wilson 1961: 179). 10 The efficient campaign run by the NTC hammered on some general issues. Prominent was the fear of further Americanisation of the national culture. It was argued that commercial stations would be flooded with vulgar American imports and as protection entertainment unions demanded a quota of 80% for British programmes. 11 Significantly, the handling of the Coronation by the American networks in 1953 had appalled influential sections of British society. In June, the BBC broadcast the ceremony having prepared for more than a year to ensure a dignified transmission: Meticulous agreements were concluded with the American networks to enforce the BBC’s sole right. The expected audience in the United States was impressive. So, when the news spread that an American television station had interrupted the Coronation programme with “unsuitable” commercials, the opponents of commercial television were provided with what looked like a final Alan Burton 246 12 The Chimp, ‘J. Fred Muggs’, became a notorious character in the debate. The Coronation was watched on TV by more than 20m viewers, the first time a British television audience was greater than for radio. 13 The Co-operative Party had been formed in 1917 to help protect the Movement during a period of serious attacks occasioned by the wartime emergency. opportunity to illustrate the quality of commercial broadcasting. The debate raged for weeks. The controversial commentaries inserted by the US networks, criticising the imperial grandeur, were denounced as unacceptable; and the chimpanzee which, “in the middle of the Communion Service … was solemnly asked ‘Do you have a coronation where you come from? ’” stigmatised as utterly outrageous (Camporesi 1994: 280). 12 The Co-operative Movement Responds to Television Since the establishment of national broadcasting in the 1920s, the Co-operative Movement had experienced an ambivalent relationship with the BBC. While seeing the Corporation as both a powerful force for democracy and the spread of co-operative ideals, it was angered by what it considered a sometime bias against the Movement in its programming and access to the microphone (A. Burton 2005: 65-66). Ironically, the prospect of commercial TV converted the Co-operative Movement into a firm supporter of the BBC and the public service ideal. In 1952, following the first government White Paper on the subject, the Co-operative Press issued a condemnation of the principle of sponsored TV and radio and sought, through the Co-operative Party and the National Council of Labour, to bring pressure to bear on the Conservative government (“Sponsored Radio and Television Programmes” 1952: 7). 13 In 1953, a motion sponsored by the Co-op Press was adopted at Cooperative Congress, the annual forum of the wider Movement. It stated that: [the Central Executive of the Co-operative Union v]iews with alarm the proposals to introduce commercial television into this country. We consider that the proposals set out in the White Paper on Television Policy would lead inevitably to a lowering of programme standards under pressure from advertisers and would weaken the power of the BBC to provide a television and sound radio service which expresses British culture and aspirations (“Sponsored Television” 1953: 8; “Sponsored Television” 1954: 3). A commercialised television service funded by the advertising industry on behalf of competitive firms ran counter to the fundamental ethos of the Movement, which has aptly been called ‘the moral economy’ of Co-operation (Gurney 1996). Writing in the Co-operative News, 12 September 1953, Arthur Ledger questioned: “At whom are the advertisers aiming? ”. In what was becoming a typically pessimistic take on American-style broadcasting, he continued: Moral Objection or Trading Imperative? 247 14 A debate about the moral efficacy of advertising ranged across the Movement in the early years of the twentieth century and proved a contentious issue for a large-scale trading organisation. See (A. Burton 2000) 15 The WCG had been formed in 1883 and quickly became the largest organisation of working-class women in Britain. Its constituency was essentially that of the married mother and organiser of family consumption. The American sponsors realise that one way to the housewife’s purse is through her children. It means that goods are not being sold entirely on their quality or their value for money, but on their attractiveness to the child population […] If sponsored television does come about, more and more firms will use popular characters to sell their goods. Ledger believed parents accepted the “least line of resistance” and was acknowledging what today we would call ‘pester power’. In conclusion he asked: “Is it legitimate to get at the family purse through the children? ” (Ledger 1953: 2). It was a traditional appeal within the Movement for ‘rational consumption’, which in its extreme denied all forms of advertising other than the purely informational. 14 An editorial in the Co-operative Productive Review in February 1953, the mouthpiece of producer Co-operation in Britain, acknowledged the spread of television and, in a further appeal to ‘rational consumption’, hoped “that essential expenditure on food, clothing and other necessities” was not being lost to TV (“Spread of Television” 1953: 39). The Women’s Co-operative Guild also expressed objections against a new commercial service. 15 In June 1953, Mrs F. Hall, in her first speech as Guild President, feared that continual interruptions for commercial announcements would be distasteful to viewers and, furthermore, that the extra costs represented by advertising would have to be borne by the consumer, a typical concern within the Movement being excessive costs of distribution. Such objections were couched at a time when the Guild was becoming highly suspicious of TV as one of the attractions that adversely affected attendance at meetings and ultimately the level of membership (“Oppose Commercial TV, Says President” 1953: 8). Educational meetings of co-operative societies were receptive forums for the speakers of the National Television Council. Leading spokesman Christopher Mayhew addressed members of the Birmingham Society on the subject of ‘Commercial Television’, which he believed “would only give viewers the programmes the advertisers wanted”. He did not believe that the public wanted the detriments of commercial television and that the ‘push’ was coming from the manufacturers. Playing to the sensibilities of his audience, he warned that “[i]n the long run the great cost of television advertising would not come out of the pockets of the advertisers but would be paid by the consumers of their goods” (“Commercial TV drive comes from makers” 1953: 11). Alan Burton 248 16 Part of the propaganda of the commercial TV lobby, in countering accusations of the lowering of standards, was that reputable bodies like universities could be given licences to broadcast. 17 The CWS had begun producing ‘Defiant’ radio sets in the early 1930s following a boycott by the radio manufacturers cartel, which objected to the Movement’s mechanism of returning dividend to customers based on their level of purchases. (See Geddes 1991: 178; “CWS and Radio Action Against Threatened Boycott” 1933: 1; “‘Defiant’ and Victorious. Popularity of CWS Wireless Sets” 1934: 1.) 18 The guide was published as Everybody’s Guide to Television and compiled and edited by the paper’s TV critic Fred Cooke. The Co-operative Movement also embraced some supporters of a second commercial channel, illustrating the complex and divisive nature of the issue and the problem for many organisations to be united and consistent. R.A. Reed, an education officer with experience in film work, thought that independent TV might be harnessed in Co-operative educational work - and was one of the few on the Left who sought to take advantage of sponsored programmes. He envisaged: “discussion groups meeting around a set supplied by the local society and its education centre, with one of television’s more serious programmes as part of the curriculum”. He warned, “The cooperative movement must make better use of it than it had made of the cinema and radio”, and added: “It was not beyond the bounds of reason to suggest that the movement could sponsor its own programmes for educational purposes, with local education committees having sets and sponsoring local television groups” (“Harness Television For Co-operative Education” 1953: 3). 16 Others sectors of the Movement were finding the need to accommodate to television. The CWS had moved quickly to manufacture and market its Defiant TV sets following the resumption of broadcasting after the war and could hope for an increase in trade following the launch of an additional service (Richardson 1977: 177). 17 While Reynold’s News, the Co-op’s Sunday newspaper, offered readers a popular guide to television as the popularity of the medium was making itself more and more felt (“The Answer to Every T/ V Query” (1952): 3). 18 It needs to be noted in this respect that opponents of Co-operation, especially small independent shop-keepers, felt the larger Co-ops, with national organisation, to be advantaged in view of the anticipated high cost of TV advertising. While the smaller trader would not be able to afford TV advertising, the larger stores and traders like the Co-ops would: “Co-operative societies seemed to have a wonderful medium in commercial television to say to the family sitting round the fireside: ‘Shop at the Co-op - there’s a branch round the corner’”. And indeed, the Bolton Chamber of Commerce passed a resolution against commercial television, as it would give the Co-operative Movement “great scope for propaganda” Moral Objection or Trading Imperative? 249 19 The debate took place at the quarterly conference of the North-West Area Council of the National Chamber of Trade. In a similar vein, small advertising agencies were hostile to sponsored TV as they felt they would be unable to compete with the larger firms. 20 The contradictions are apparent in the Movement’s criticism of programme sponsorship as the model for funding commercial TV, while concurrently the CWS was sponsoring a show on Radio Luxembourg, a practice that went back to the 1930s. See The Wheatsheaf (August 1939: 7); The Producer (October 1954: 26, 34); and The Co-operative News (9 October 1954: 9-12). 21 Quotations form the debates are derived from Hansard, the official record of Parliament. (“TV will help to boost the ‘co-op’, they say” 1953: 6). 19 Certainly within the Movement, the fears concerning the cultural and social impact of commercial television were balanced by the expectations of the trading interests which saw benefits from the advertising potential of the service. 20 In the uncertain period before the launch of the new service, a meeting of the influential Conservative 1922 Committee in February 1952 voiced the dangers that could arise from change: the possibility that the Communist Party of Great Britain would buy broadcast time for its propaganda; or that the Co-operative Movement would undoubtedly become commercial sponsors with the result of weakening and destroying the small shop-keeper, a traditional friend of Conservativism. It would take a lot of persuading to win over some anxious and sceptical Tories. The Political and Parliamentary Debate 21 The “setting and tone which was to characterise all subsequent public discussion of this issue” was established in the Lord’s debate on the first White Paper in May 1952 (Wilson 1961: 107). In the most notorious intervention, Lord Reith, the influential founding head of the BBC, accused: “Somebody introduced smallpox, bubonic plague and the Black Death. Somebody is minded now to introduce sponsored broadcasting” (cited in Wilson 1961: 107). The attendance at the Lord’s debate on the reading of the second White Paper was said to have been greater than any for a generation with the government issuing a two-line whip to ensure the attendance of Tory peers to support the motion. While the Common’s debate on the second Paper was an unruly affair and delayed on several points of order relating to issues of Members with special interests. Labour Minister Herbert Morrison, the spokesman for the party in the debate, considered it one of the most important debates since the war. A principal attack by those opposing changes in broadcasting was the intimation that some Conservative MPs had interests in advertising firms, and by extension the establishment of a commercial television channel. Frank Bowles (Labour) made this point: “May I say that it is well-known to every Alan Burton 250 honourable Member that there are certain honourable Members on the other side of the House who are directly connected with the future of sponsored or competitive TV”. Herbert Morrison advanced this line of accusation: It is known that certain honourable members who have been advocating commercial TV very actively have an individual and personal interest in advertising concerns which intend to participate in the new venture […] they are seeking to do business out of TV for their own personal profit. These accusations led to a surprising revelation. The Conservative Member, Mr A. Marlowe, responded to the attack with his own question: “In view of the fact that the Co-op Society has applied for one licence, would any honourable member who is a Member of the Co-operative Society have to declare his interest when speaking in the debate? ” A surprised Morrison viewed this as “silly”: “As my honourable Friends associated with the Co-operative Movement intend to vote against the Government on the matter, how can they be guilty of voting for their own interests? ” An angry George Darling (a Co-op sponsored MP) questioned where Marlowe had gotten this confidential information, which was only known to the directors of the CWS, the representative in Parliament of the Post Office (the Postmaster-General) and himself? Furthermore, he confirmed: “the whole Movement is utterly and completely opposed to commercial TV”. Responding to a different line of criticism, an advocate for independent television, Brig. T. Clarke, interjected with the claim for the Co-op as a monopoly, and therefore in natural sympathy with the broadcasting monopoly of the BBC. Morrison, a passionate defender of the status of the BBC as a regulated monopoly, responded: The Co-op is in competition. In the case of the Co-op, a number of these businesses which may support commercial TV in the interests of competition, flatly refuse to supply the Co-op with goods because the Co-op is an effective competitor. Morrison, a lifelong member of the Royal Arsenal Co-operative Society, was well-informed about the traditional weapon of the boycott operated against the Co-operative Movement. George Darling developed this point, and, unrehearsed, outlined the position of the Co-operative Movement: The societies are not allowed to sell the products of these manufacturers unless they undertake to distribute their profits in the way in which the radio manufacturers dictatorially lay down. There is no radio manufacturer outside the ring and the Co-operative movement has been forced against its will into the manufacture of radio and television sets […] The point is that if the Co-operative movement is compelled to go into commercial television, that is, to have its advertisements placed at the beginning and end of the commercial television programme, then in order to get the job done it either must have its own studios, which would be foolish and Moral Objection or Trading Imperative? 251 22 The Associated Broadcasting Development Company had been formed in 1952 for the express purpose of private enterprise television and a demonstration to the government that powerful financial and manufacturing interests were prepared to invest in commercial TV. wasteful, or it will have to go to the people who apply this boycott and ask them to produce a programme. One can see what difficulties are involved there. Then Darling expounded on the application for a licence to run a TV station: It is also a fact that the Co-operative Wholesale Society, which is the central trading body of the whole Co-operative movement, applied to the Postmaster- General for a licence to run a television service. The first reason for its doing so was to remind the Government that the Co-operative movement ought not to be left out of any consideration. At the time that the request was made and the application was put forward, things were very vague and nobody knew what the Government’s proposals would be. So the second purpose of the application from the Co-operative movement was to obtain more information. It was hoped that in the correspondence that would follow the Co-operative Wholesale Society would obtain some idea of the Government’s intention. In an article for the Co-operative News soon after the debate, George Darling accepted that the Government had made concessions to the opponents of commercial TV. In particular, the American model of direct sponsorship of programmes was to be dropped in favour of spot-advertising, loosening the link between advertising revenue and programme content. In addition, the new service would be subject to public service regulations; that is, private firms would not own the new stations and would broadcast under licence to a newly created Independent Broadcasting Authority. However, Darling argued that, “the fundamental objections to commercial TV have not been met”. Firstly, the new service would not initially provide a national service and would in most likelihood just reach London, Birmingham and Manchester. And secondly, that due to the high cost of programme-making, estimated at £ 50,000 per week: There is at the moment only one prospective company in the field, the Associated Broadcasting Development Company, which includes in its association radio manufacturing and advertising firms, at least one daily newspaper and other similar commercial interests. 22 Darling was arguing that the high cost of TV would deter other entrants and hence the notion of free competition was a sham. For him, “The new policy is basically as bad as the old and just as dangerous to Co-operative interests”. Moreover, he pointed out that the ABDC had been paying out large sums on propaganda for commercial TV, and the new proposals set out in the White Paper (1953) have been done so, Alan Burton 252 23 The separate Scottish Co-operative Wholesale Society does not appear to have participated in the events. 24 There is some confusion regarding when, actually, the CWS submitted an application. It states in this article published in December 1953 that the application was forwarded 15 months earlier, making for around July 1952. However, the Minutes of the Committee Meetings of the CWS Board do not approve the recommendation to make an application until June 1953. The tactical discussions took place within the Finance No. 1 Committee of the CWS, but unfortunately these have not been preserved, making it impossible to discern what exactly lay behind the thinking of the CWS. for the sole purpose of satisfying an obviously influential private company. In placating and favouring the ABDC the Government has retained the worst features of commercial television […] The radio manufacturers and the daily newspaper included in ABDC have frequently shown their dislike of co-operative enterprise. They are not likely to drop their opposition when they take charge of TV programmes. And the co-operative movement, along with all other democratic institutions now faces a very dangerous situation (“”Sponsoring” is out - but danger remains” 1953: 2, 14). In a lead article in The Co-operative News soon after the debate in the House more was revealed about the secret application for a licence to operate a commercial TV station. Darling was quoted on the impact of what the paper described as a “statesmanlike” move, The application from the CWS put the Government in a desperate dilemma. They could not fit the Co-operative Movement into their plans and they knew there would be tremendous public criticism if the Movement were left out. 23 According to the CWS, it remained opposed to commercial television, but sought “to influence events in the service of Co-operation”. In a statement issued following the Parliamentary debate, a spokesman informed that the Movement, will require equal facilities to those granted to other commercial advertisers, and the CWS has taken steps to protect its position in this respect by acquiring from the Postmaster-General as to the possibility of being granted licences to operate television services for the 10 million Co-operators in England and Wales (“C.W.S. Application For Commercial TV Place Hit Tory Plan” 1953: 1). 24 The vote on the second Reading of the Bill was passed on 25 March 1954 by the narrow majority of 296 to 269 votes. On 30 July 1954, after a further twenty days of debate, the Bill to create the Independent Television Authority became law. Conclusion The Co-operative Movement made the bold claim that its action led to a modification of the original proposals, away from direct sponsorship of pro- Moral Objection or Trading Imperative? 253 25 Once commercial television was a successful reality, the initiative within the Labour Party passed on to the ‘revisionists’, who sought to connect with the rising expectations and living standards of the period and eschewed the ‘highbrow’ attitudes to popular culture that had prevailed. gramming to a system of discrete spot-advertising. That is, the Movement played a ‘decisive’ part in the Conservative Government’s retreat from its original intentions for commercial television and its acceptance of competitive TV within a public service framework. Later commentators like Freedman point to the widespread opposition to the Conservative’s plans for commercial TV, but singles out the National Television Council’s high-profile campaign as helping to convince the Government to drop American-style sponsorship in favour of regulated advertising as the source of revenue for the new system (Freedman 2003: 19). The historian of the BBC, Asa Briggs, highlights the “many interesting undercurrents and the ultimate compromises on many points” which attended the working out of the legislation (Briggs 1979: 933). It has to be further acknowledged that many MPs were against the American system of commercial television, including many influential Tories. The Television Bill might have been rejected if it had advocated a system of unregulated programme sponsoring. Bernard Sendall also maintains that the Government, mindful of cross-party opposition, was willing to compromise (Sendall 1982: 34). The Co-operative Movement thus added its substantial voice to an array of opposing viewpoints. What the episode does unqualifyingly reveal is that a significant leftist organisation of consumers had a role to play in cultural policy in the 1950s. That a substantial part of the Parliamentary debate centred on the Co-operative Movement’s policy and intentions in relation to commercial television confirms this. This is an important dimension to the whole commercial TV saga that has been ignored by television and labour historians. Wilson’s detailed account of the campaign for commercial television states that “no new arguments” were offered in the final Commons debate, which rather elides the revelation about the CWS and its interest in securing an operating licence (Wilson 1961: 191). In a similarly reductive manner, Des Freedman is able to conclude that, although no Labour [Party] amendments were accepted by the government, its constant pressure was effective in securing the inclusion of various safeguards concerning programme range, editorial impartiality and limits on advertising time in the final legislation (Freedman 2003: 19). 25 One needs to broaden out the conception of the Labour Party to that of the labour movement, thus embracing and acknowledging other significant organisations on the Left with a stake in broadcasting and popular culture. The events also demonstrate the clear sectarian positions of different interests and the Co-op’s concern to defend its interests within what it viewed Alan Burton 254 26 Details of the co-ordinated campaign linking the TV ads to store displays are given in “Fireside View of C.W.S. Products” 1955: 2-3). 27 Bernstein’s position exactly paralleled that of the CWS, arguing that his action did not “indicate any change of feelings about commercial or sponsored television; I still think the country would be better off without it. However, if there is to be commercial television in this country, we think we should be in, and this may very well be useful one day” (quoted in Freedman 2003: 16-17). as a hostile system that had persistently operated the boycott against it. It was firmly believed for example, mistakenly as it turned out, that the Cooperative Movement could not afford to be outside of commercial television should it become a reality in the fear that it would be barred from commercial stations. It was the last time the declining Co-operative Movement had the authority to significantly influence British cultural life. On the launch of the independent television stations in September 1955, the CWS placed advertisements in the very first series of transmissions. In an ironic twist of history, the CWS’s persistent support for commercial television through its advertising, helped the infant service through an uncertain period, and undoubtedly contributed to its firm establishment by the later 1950s. The inaugural Co-op advert went out on the first up London transmitter on Wednesday 28 September, between 7.00-8.00pm, adopting a ‘Spot the Likeness’ theme and having “all the attractions of a panel game”. So pleased were the Movement’s publicists, with both the campaign and the opportunities offered by the new commercial service, that screen time was booked as far ahead as was possible and similar reservations were made on the Birmingham and Manchester transmitters that were expected to be in operation early in 1956. The News, in a smart about turn, editorialised that, “It is a matter of congratulation that the C.W.S. is so far advanced with its TV plans” (“C.W.S. and Commercial TV” 1955: 1). 26 The Co-operative Movement was not the only body on the Left compromised in its ideals by commercial television. Long-term Labour Party supporter Sidney Bernstein successfully applied for a licence for his Granada cinema chain and developed one of the most influential regional stations. 27 Another significant cinema interest, the Associated British Picture Corporation, acquired the ABC franchise, even though its vice-president, Eric Fletcher, was a Labour MP and actively involved with the NTC. By early 1956, Labour supporters were playing key roles in three of the four ITV companies. In the final account, the Co-op’s intervention in the Television Bill of 1954 demonstrates the Movement’s latent idealism. At a testing time of relative decline, the Co-operative Movement was still prepared to pursue its cultural ideals in face of its material interest. One Conservative official speaking in 1959 believed that commercial television had done the Party “incalculable good”: it had brought goods into people’s homes and raised their expectations about more; it had given people a stake in things, making them conser- Moral Objection or Trading Imperative? 255 vative; and it had provided distraction, focussing desires on the products advertised (Wilson 1961: 212). Commercial TV had played its part in making people think that they had ‘never had it so good’. Co-operators and others on the Left had alternatively sought to counter the tide of thoughtless materialism and morally corrosive affluence. If nothing else, the episode offered the glorious prospect of ‘People’s Television’: a commercial TV channel run by a working-class, democratically controlled organisation of consumers, and programmes reflective of rational consumption and the moral economy of Cooperation. If one accepts that British society since the 1950s has been characterised by materialism and selfish acquisitiveness, then the post-war period just might have been a little different. References/ Bibliography Birchall, J. (1994). Co-op. the people’s business. Manchester: Manchester University Press. Black, L. (2003). The Political Culture of the Left in Affluent Britain, 1951-64: Old Labour, New Britain? New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Black, L. (2005). “Whose Finger on the Button? British Television and the Politics of Cultural Control”. Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television 25: 4. 547-575. Briggs, A. (1979). Sound and Vision: vol. IV of The History of Broadcasting in the United Kingdom. Oxford: OUP. Bonner, A. (1970). British Co-operation. Manchester: Co-operative Union. Burton, A. (2000). “‘To gain the whole world and lose our soul’: visual spectacle and the politics of working-class consumption before 1914”. In: Simon Popple / Vanessa Toulmin (eds.). Visual Delights. Essays on the Popular and Projected Image in the 19 th Century. Trowbridge: Flicks Books. [PAGE NUMBERS MISSING] Burton, A. (2005). The British Consumer Co-operative Movement and film, 1890s-1960s. Manchester: Manchester University Press. Burton, P. (1981). Television and Radio in the United Kingdom. London: Macmillan. Camporesi, V. (1994). “There are No Kangaroos in Kent. The American ‘Model’ and the Introduction of Commercial Television in Britain, 1940-1954”. In: D.W. Ellwood / R. Kroes (eds.). Hollywood in Europe. Experience of Cultural Hegemony. Amsterdam: VU University Press. [PAGE NUMBERS MISSING] Co-operative Independent Commission Report (1958). Manchester: Co-operative Union. Freedman, D. (2003). Television Policies of the Labour Party 1951-2001. London: Frank Cass. Geddes, K., in collaboration with G. Bussey (1991). The Setmakers. A History of the Radio and TV Industry. London: British Radio and Electronic Equipment Manufacturers Association. Gurney, P. (1996). Co-operative Culture and the Politics of Consumption in England, 1870-1930 . Manchester: Manchester University Press. Hand, Chris (Undated A). The advent of ITV and television ownership in lower income households: correlation or causation? http: / / www.kingston.ac.uk/ ~ku32101/ tvlogits.pdf. [Accessed 19.08.2006]. Hand, Chris (Undated B). The arrival of choice in television viewing in Britain: who watched ITV? http: / / www.rhul.ac.uk/ media-arts/ mk/ staff/ Choice%20of%20Channels-revised.pdf. [Accessed 19.08.2006]. Alan Burton 256 Hogenkamp, B. (2000). Film, Television and the Left 1950-1970. London: Lawrence and Wishart. Hornsby, M. (1989). Co-operation in crisis, challenge and response in the co-operative retail movement in England from the late 19 th century to the mid-20 th century. Unpublished M.Phil. Thesis: University of York. Ledger, A. (1953). “Children’s Choice and the advertiser”. The Co-operative News (12 September): 2. Richardson, W. (1977). The CWS in War and Peace 1938-1976. Manchester: CWS Sendall, B. (1982). Origin and Foundation, 1946-1962: vol. 1 of Independent Television in Britain. London: Macmillan. Sparks, L. (1994). “Review - and prospects”. Journal of Co-operative Studies (February). Wilson, H.H. (1961). Pressure Group. The Campaign for Commercial Television. London: Secker & Warburg. “The Answer to Every T/ V Query” (1952). The Co-operative News (20 September). 3). “Commercial TV drive comes from makers. Labour M.P. Hits White Paper” (1953). The Cooperative News (12 December). 11. “C.W.S. and Commercial TV. Quick off the mark with grocery and provision minute ‘spots’” (1955). The Co-operative News (17 September). 1. “CWS and Radio Action Against Threatened Boycott” (1933). The Co-operative News (28 January). 1. “C.W.S. Application For Commercial TV Place Hit Tory Plan” (1953). The Co-operative News (19 December). 1. “”Defiant” and Victorious. Popularity of CWS Wireless Sets” (1934). The Co-operative News (13 January). 1) “Fireside View of C.W.S. Products” (1955). The Producer (October). 2-3. “Harness Television For Co-operative Education” (1953). The Co-operative News (4 April). 3. “Oppose Commercial TV, Says President” (1953). The Co-operative News (27 June). 8. “Sponsored Radio and Television Programmes” (2 June 1952). Minutes of the Central Executive of the Co-operative Union). 7. “Sponsored Television” (1953). Minutes of the Central Executive of the Co-operative Union (2 December). 8. “Sponsored Television” (1954). Annual Co-operative Congress Report. 3. “”Sponsoring” is out - but danger remains says George Darling, M.P.” (1953). The Cooperative News (21 November). 2, 14. “Spread of Television” (1953). Co-operative Productive Review (February). 39. Alan Burton Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik Alpen-Adria-Universität Klagenfurt and Associate Research Fellow in British Film and TV History, De Montfort University, UK AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. An Acoustic Analysis Ingrid Rosenfelder This article presents the results of a study of the phonetic realization of Canadian Raising, as produced by 39 speakers from Victoria, B.C. A total of 2489 tokens of the diphthongs / a / and / a / in nine different phonetic environments were analyzed acoustically by measuring the first and second formants (F1/ F2). Contrary to the findings of Chambers & Hardwick (1986) and Hung, Davison & Chambers (1993), which predicted the “Americanization” of Canadian speech and a decline in the use of raising, Canadian Raising is still in existence for both diphthongs. Raising chiefly occurs in the phonetic environment of a following voiceless consonant, including the ‘flapped’ or ‘voiced’ / t/ , and involves a lower F1 (i.e. raising) of the offglides as well. Moreover, a trend toward fronting of the onsets can be discerned, with / a / being predominantly realized as fronted already, and / a / increasingly becoming so, especially in the phonetic environment of a following obstruent. 1 Introduction The term “Canadian Raising”, coined by Chambers in 1973, refers to the phenomenon by which the onsets of the diphthongs / a / and / a / are raised to [ ] and [ ], respectively, when followed by a tautosyllabic voiceless consonant (Chambers 1973: 94; Paradis 1980: 40/ 41). Canadian Raising has long been a stereotypical feature of Canadian speech and was already commented on as early as 1935 (Emeneau 1935). It received wider linguistic attention in 1942, when it was commented upon as a phonemic problem (Joos 1942) involving a possible phonemic split of the diphthongs in front of a following ‘voiced’ / t/ . Canadian Raising has been shown to go back as far as the 1880s (Thomas 1991: 162), but much controversy surrounds the origin of the phenomenon, for which various mechanisms have been proposed. While Ingrid Rosenfelder 258 some authors follow Joos (1942) in accounting for Canadian Raising through the phonetic mechanism of pre-fortis clipping and minimalization of articulatory distance between onset and offglide, other have argued for it to be a remnant of the diphthongization of Middle English and in the Great Vowel Shift (Gregg 1973), pointing out that one should speak more correctly of “lowering” instead of “raising”. A compromise explanation has been advanced by Trudgill (1984), who suggested that Canadian Raising can be seen as the result of dialect mixture and subsequent phonological reallocation. Furthermore, acoustic analyses of diphthongs perceived as “raised” by Thomas (1991) revealed that these diphthongs also featured higher offglides. Thus, according to another model (Moreton & Thomas 2004), the origin of Canadian Raising can be accounted for by the peripheralization of offglides before voiceless consonants, with the onsets of the diphthongs shortened and raised through coarticulation. The sociolinguistic aspects of Canadian Raising came into focus in the 1980s, when a sound change in progress was observed for the diphthong / a / in Toronto, Vancouver and Victoria, B.C. (Chambers & Hardwick 1986; Hung, Davison & Chambers 1993), which involved the fronting, non-raising and rounding of the onset. Fronting correlated with age, sex and phonetic environment, fronted onsets being favored by young, female respondents, and in the so-called “elsewhere” environment (i.e. other than before voiceless consonants). Non-raising, though a less significant phenomenon, clearly correlated with age in Vancouver, but only weakly so in Victoria. Rounding of the onset to [o] was restricted exclusively to Vancouver. The motivation for the sound changes was explained as an increasing “Americanization” of Canadian speech for fronting and non-raising, and phonetic assimilation for rounding. Despite its name, Canadian Raising also occurs in the Northern United States, as has been demonstrated by Vance (1987) for the diphthong / a / in Rochester, NY, and for both diphthongs in Ann Arbor, MI, by Dailey-O’Cain (1997). The latter found evidence for a sound change in progress, already completed for / a / but still going on with respect to / a / , with correlations between the raised variants and gender and age for the latter diphthong. She also found some degree of raising in phonetic environments other than those ‘traditionally’ predicted by Chambers (1973), namely before nasal-voiceless consonant clusters, and before / r/ . The present study examines the situation of the Canadian Raising diphthongs today, with special regard to the two sound changes mentioned above. Although the main focus is on the phonetics of Canadian Raising, sociolinguistic aspects are also taken into account. Moreover, while Canadian Raising has traditionally been mostly studied ‘by ear’, the present study attempts to shed new light on the phenomenon through acoustic analysis, by measuring the frequencies of the first and second formants (F1 and F2) of Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 259 1 A reading passage was chosen over free conversational speech for purely practical reasons, as the easiest way of obtaining the same number of diphthong tokens in the same phonetic environments for each speaker. 2 Both terms for the same phenomenon appear in the literature. The term ‘flapped’ will be used throughout the present study. 3 These environments correspond to those investigated by Dailey-O’Cain (1997), allowing a comparison with the results of her study. the diphthongs. Following Dailey-O’Cain (1997), the phonetic realization of the onsets of both / a / and / a / is investigated in nine different phonetic environments. Furthermore, the acoustic realization of the offglides is examined, and statistical tests are performed to determine whether the use of the raised or fronted diphthongs correlates with age and/ or gender. 2 Methods 2.1 Data Collection Data for the present study were collected during a short visit to Victoria in September 2004. Subjects were students or faculty members of the University of Victoria, who were asked to read aloud a fairy tale 1 containing a number of / a / and / a / -tokens in different phonetic environments: • vlessC: before a voiceless consonant • flappedT: before a ‘flapped’/ ’voiced’ / t/ 2 • voicedC: before a voiced consonant other than nasals, / l/ and / r/ • Nasal: before a nasal • N+vlessC: before a nasal-voiceless consonant cluster • R: before / r/ • L: before / l/ • #: word-finally • V: before a vowel The reading passage also contained two ‘reference vowels’ in the words rather (/ a / ) and ungodly ([ ]) 3 . Recordings were made digitally at a sampling rate of 22050 Hz in a sound-treated recording room in the Phonetics Laboratory of the University of Victoria. Participation in the study was voluntary, and all participants were unaware of the purpose of the experiment. Speakers were also asked to fill out a background questionnaire soliciting information about their age, sex, native language(s) and geographical background (where the speakers and their parents had grown up; length of residence in Victoria; prior place(s) of residence). Ingrid Rosenfelder 260 4 Since speakers who had grown up outside of what Chambers (1973: 84) has defined as “heartland Canada” were excluded from the present study, the label ‘Can’ in Table 1 must be understood in the sense of ‘heartland Canada without British Columbia’. Figure 1: Age distribution of speakers. Although the aim was to record speakers from a broad range of ages, the majority of the subjects were college students in their early twenties (see Fig. 1). Speaker ages ranged from 17 to 50, with a median age of 22. Proportions of male/ female speakers were approximately equal, with a larger number of women among the younger subjects. Parents grown up in … Vic BC Can other Vic 1 BC 1 7 Can 3 2 14 other 1 2 1 7 Total 6 11 15 7 39 Table 1: Geographical background of speaker family. (Answers to questions “Where did your father/ mother grow up? ”) [Vic = Victoria, BC = British Columbia, Can = Canada] Only about a quarter of the subjects had actually grown up in Victoria. The remainder divide up approximately equally between British Columbia and the rest of Canada 4 . Within these categories, the proportions of male/ female Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 261 5 i.e. the one most frequently used in everyday life 6 Second languages mentioned were French, Hungarian and Russian. speakers were approximately equal, with the exception of British Columbia, where women constituted about two thirds of the speakers who had grown up there. All speakers listed English as their first language 5 . Although for a substantial proportion of speakers (11), one or both parents had grown up outside of Canada, only few (3) speakers indicated bilingualism 6 . The distribution of parental geographical background can be found in Table 1. 2.2 Acoustic analysis Recordings for the present study were analyzed on a personal computer using Praat (Boersma & Weenink 2004). In order to eliminate the effect of adjacent speech sounds on the diphthongs, it was attempted to identify what Hertz (1991: 99) has called the “interior transition”, i.e. that part of the diphthong from the point where the transition from the preceding speech sound ceases (because the target has been reached) and the transition towards the second target of the diphthong begins, to the point where the target of the offglide has been reached and the transition towards the following speech sound begins. Formant measurements were taken at these two points, with formant settings (maximum number of formants, maximum formant frequency) adjusted so as to yield continuous formant trajectories overlaying the formant tracks observed in the spectrogram. Formant values were extracted from the labeled sound files with the help of a Praat editor script, which automatically adjusted formant settings as specified in the labels, and then summarized and plotted for each speaker using various Perl scripts. In total, 2489 tokens were analyzed, with four measurement values each (F1/ F2, onset/ offglide). Formant measurement error was determined to range approximately 100 Hz in both directions, mainly due to the decision of where to place the points of measurement. 2.3 Statistical analysis In order to determine whether differences in formant measurements were indeed significant, and whether any significant correlations existed between the variables involved, a number of statistical tests were conducted using the SPSS statistics software package. Differences in mean F1 and F2 values between the phonetic environments were investigated using two-way ANOVAs, with both speaker and phonetic environments as independent variables. A Levene test examined homogeneity of variances for the different groups. Furthermore, post-hoc Ingrid Rosenfelder 262 7 Exceptions are the following: For the men, vlessC and Nasal differ only at the .01 level, and vlessC and voicedC do not differ significantly at all. For the women, vlessC and voicedC differ at a level of .05 only. In addition, F1 values for flappedT are low enough for this group of speakers to differ from those for vlessC at a level of .01. tests were conducted to determine which of the groups differed significantly from each other. As neither group sizes nor variances were equal for the groups investigated, a Games-Howell test was employed. Pearson correlation coefficients were calculated to examine the relation between F1 values measured at the onsets and offglides of the diphthong, as well as to determine whether raising and fronting of the diphthong onsets, i.e. lower F1s and higher F2s, correlated with speaker age. 3 Results A general overview of the acoustic realizations of the Canadian Raising diphthongs, differentiated by phoneme and speaker sex, can be found in Figs. 2 and 3, which display median F1 and F2 values for the phonetic environments investigated in the present study. Error bars indicate second and third quartiles, i.e. the inner 50% of the data. Measurements of the two reference vowels in the words rather and ungodly are also displayed. Median and quartiles were chosen for plotting rather than mean and standard deviations because of the former’s greater robustness with respect to extreme outliers. Moreover, as quartiles are not necessarily symmetric, they give a better indication of the direction of variation. It should be noted, however, that all statistical tests employed in the analysis required the use of formant means. As differences between medians and means were generally small, this does not pose much of a problem. 3.1 F1 - Raising 3.1.1 Phoneme / a / ? Figs. 4 and 5 show box-and-whisker plots for F1 at the onset of the diphthong / a / for male and female speakers. Two lines of reference are given by the median formant values of the two vowels [a ] and [ ] in rather and ungodly. Most noticeably, both plots show that the F1 values for those environments in which raising would be expected according to the literature, vlessC and flappedT, differ from the other environments in that they lie below the line of reference provided by the median first formant values of the reference vowels. For the majority of cases, differences in mean F1 values between these and the other phonetic environments are indeed statistically significant at the .001 level 7 . Thus, there seems to be a general pattern among both Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 263 men and women to favor vlessC and flappedT for the raising of the onset of / a / , with flappedT as the ‘leading’ raising environment. Lowest raising scores are found for R and #. Some raising also seems to occur for voicedC, whose F1 values show considerable overlap across the reference lines. All other environments lie somewhat in between and do not differ significantly from one another. 3.1.2 Phoneme / a / Median F1 values for the onset of / a / in the nine phonetic environments are shown in Figs. 6 and 7 for male and female speakers, respectively. Once again, median F1 values are lowest for flappedT, and the most striking differences are found between the two ‘traditional’ raising environments, vlessC and flappedT, and the remaining groups. All of these differences are highly significant (p = .001) for the men. For the women, the pattern is interrupted by the two ‘nasal’ environments (Nasal and N+vlessC), where no significant differences in mean F1 to the two Raising environments could be found. Thus, some degree of raising seems to take place in these environments among the female speakers but not among the men. In contrast to the findings for phoneme / a / , a clear differentiation takes place between voicedC and the Raising environments for both male and female speakers, which is significant at the .001 level for both. Ingrid Rosenfelder 264 Figure 2: Formant plot of diphthong onsets and offglides: Phoneme / a / . Symbols indicate median formant values in the different phonetic environments. Error bars represent second and third quartiles, i.e. the inner 50% of the data. (Note that the offglide before / l/ (L) lies in the onset region of the other phonetic environments.) Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 265 Figure 3: Formant plot of diphthong onsets and offglides: Phoneme / a / . Symbols indicate median formant values in the different phonetic environments. Error bars represent second and third quartiles, i.e. the inner 50% of the data. Ingrid Rosenfelder 266 Figure 4: Median and quartiles for F1 (onset) of phoneme / a / , male speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. Reference lines representing median F1 values of the vowels in rather (solid line) and ungodly (dashed line) are also shown. Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 267 Figure 5: Median and quartiles for F1 (onset) of phoneme / a / , female speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. Reference lines representing median F1 values of the vowels in rather (solid line) and ungodly (dashed line) are also shown. Ingrid Rosenfelder 268 Figure 6: Median and quartiles for F1 (onset) of phoneme / a / , male speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. Reference lines representing median F1 values of the vowels in rather (solid line) and ungodly (dashed line) are also shown. Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 269 8 Note that, strictly speaking, this is not exactly the same relation as claimed by Thomas (1991: 156), who stated that diphthongs with raised offglides had onsets that sounded Figure 7: Median and quartiles for F1 (onset) of phoneme / a / , female speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. Reference lines representing median F1 values of the vowels in rather (solid line) and ungodly (dashed line) are also shown. 3.1.3 Offglides Another objective of the present study was to examine whether raising of the diphthongs is indeed a process involving both diphthong onsets and offglides, as claimed by Thomas (1991) and Moreton & Thomas (2004). According to their hypotheses, it is likely that raised diphthongs should feature higher degrees of raising in their offglides as well, as the original phonetic motivation for the raising process was the peripheralization of diphthong offglides before voicless consonants, with corresponding raising of the nuclei through coarticulation 8 . Therefore, possible correlations between Ingrid Rosenfelder 270 higher. Nor does this theory necessarily demand higher offglides for raised diphthongs, as Canadian Raising is seen as a subsequent phonologization of the mechanism outlined above, with differences in the nuclei originally conditioned by mere phonetic principles reinterpreted as phonological target differences (Moreton & Thomas 2004). However, finding a correlation between the two variables would lend support to this theory about the origin of Canadian Raising. the F1 values measured at diphthong onset and offglide were also investigated in the present study. Box-and-whisker plots of median F1 offglides for both phonemes and sexes are displayed in Fig. 8. It can be seen that F1 values in the raising environments are lower on average than those of the other environments. Highest median formant frequencies, i.e. lowest diphthong offglides, are found for / a / in the environments of following / r/ and / l/ , which differ very markedly from all other values, especially among the female speakers. High frequencies also occur before nasals, though to a much lesser extent. These effects, however, are not so much due to Raising as they are to a tendency to monophthongize / a / in these environments, especially before / l/ . Although correlations significant at the .01 level between the F1 values for onset and offglide were obtained across all speakers for the ‘traditional’ raising environments vlessC and flappedT, the same was true for a number of other environments, some of which did not show raising at all. It must therefore be concluded that correlations between the raising of diphthong onsets and offglides are not a simple function of the mean overall degree of raising. Moreover, these correlations might be partially induced by the fact that ‘raw’, i.e. unnormalized formant data were used, which are strongly dependent on the size of the vocal tracts of the individual speakers. Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 271 9 Slightly lower significances are found only between voicedC and N+vlessC, as well as between voicedC and R, which are significant at a level of .01 for the men, and not at all for the women. Figure 8: Median and quartiles for F1 offglides, by phoneme and male/ female speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. 3.2 F2 - Fronting 3.2.1 Phoneme / a / Fronting of / a / , about which little has been previously reported in the literature, is shown in Figs. 9 and 10. As for F1, medians and quartiles are displayed for each of the phonetic environments investigated, together with the two reference lines denoting median F2 values for the vowels in rather and ungodly, which delimit the average extent of the vowel space in the frontback dimension for the low vowels. Highest median F2 values occur for the environments of vlessC, flappedT, and voicedC, whose differences to the remaining environments are almost universally significant at the .001 level for both male and female speakers 9 . Ingrid Rosenfelder 272 10 Differences in mean F2 values between the phonetic environments of the two abovementioned groups are much more marked among the women, where they are almost universally significant at the .001 level, with the exception of a following voiceless consonant (vlessC), which differs at a .01 level only. For the men, differences pattern similarly but at lower p values. As, in this study, the latter category includes only the phonemes / z/ and / d/ , fronting of / a / seems to be favored most before obstruents. Fronting also occurs to a lesser degree before a following nasal-voiceless consonant cluster, and before / r/ , as well as word-finally and before nasals. Following / l/ and vowels show the lowest fronting scores. 3.2.2 Phoneme / a / Fronting of / a / , as shown in Figs. 11 and 12, does not seem to follow the pattern established for / a / , neither for the male nor for the female speakers. By and large, fronting of / a / takes place to a much greater extent, with the majority of environments showing median F2 values on or above the reference line provided by reference vowel [a: ]. This is especially true for the female speakers. Fronting environments for / a / can be divided into two large groups, encompassing vlessC, flappedT, Nasal, N+vlessC and # on the one hand, and voicedC, R and L on the other, with diphthongs followed by a vowel lying somewhere in between. Differences between the phonetic environments of these two groups are statistically significant for both male and female speakers 10 . Overall, fronting of / a / appears to be much more widespread than fronting of / a / , in terms of phonetic environment. 3.2.3 Offglides Box-and-whisker plots of median F2 measurements at the offglides of both / a / and / a / are displayed in Fig. 13 for both male and female speakers. These plots are of interest insofar as they can serve to shed further light on the hypothesis that the origin of the Canadian Raising mechanism lies in the hyperarticulation of syllable nuclei before voiceless consonants (Moreton 2004). Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 273 Figure 9: Median and quartiles for F2 (onset) of phoneme / a / , male speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. Reference lines representing median F2 values of the vowels in rather (solid line) and ungodly (dashed line) are also shown. Ingrid Rosenfelder 274 Figure 10: Median and quartiles for F2 (onset) of phoneme / a / , female speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. Reference lines representing median F2 values of the vowels in rather (solid line) and ungodly (dashed line) are also shown. Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 275 Figure 11: Median and quartiles for F2 (onset) of phoneme / a / , male speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. Reference lines representing median F2 values of the vowels in rather (solid line) and ungodly (dashed line) are also shown. Ingrid Rosenfelder 276 Figure 12: Median and quartiles for F2 (onset) of phoneme / a / , female speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. Reference lines representing median F2 values of the vowels in rather (solid line) and ungodly (dashed line) are also shown. Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 277 Figure 13: Median and quartiles for F2 offglides, by phoneme and male/ female speakers. Circles and asterisks indicate extreme values (located more than 1.5 box lengths from the median) and outliers (distance from median more than three box lengths), respectively. As can be seen from the plots, / a / offglides are realized with a higher F2 for the environment of a following voiceless consonant by speakers of both sexes. It should be noted that at least for flappedT and voicedC, a clear difference to the F2 values of vlessC can be detected for / a / . Thus, in contrast to the results obtained in the previous sections, flappedT does not cluster with vlessC but rather with its voiced counterpart. These findings - that front-gliding diphthongs are produced with more fronted offglides before voiceless consonants - are in agreement with the theory that hyperarticulation plays a role in the production of the Canadian Raising diphthongs. Peripheralization of pre-voiceless coda syllable nuclei would entail not only raising of the diphthong offglides, but also an exaggeration of the front/ back dimension (Moreton 2004: 4). However, the same cannot be said about the diphthong / a / , whose offglides show higher F2s as well (i.e. less rather than more peripheralization) in the raising environments. Ingrid Rosenfelder 278 3.3 Sociolinguistic Aspects In order to investigate the sociolinguistic aspects of Canadian Raising, correlation coefficients were calculated to determine whether the use of the raised and fronted diphthongs varies with age or gender. Since it is not possible to directly compare men and women using ‘raw’ formant frequencies, correlation coefficients were calculated separately for these two groups. The results are shown in Table 2. Unfortunately, it is difficult to draw representative conclusions from this sample of subjects, as they do not constitute a truly random sample. Nevertheless, some indications of trends can be obtained from the data. 3.3.1 F1 - Raising Table 2 indicates a clear difference between the use of raising among male and female speakers. While onset values show no significant correlations with age for the female speakers, they do so for the men in a number of environments, including the ‘traditional’ raising environments vlessC and flappedT, but also others (see Table 2). All of these correlations have the same (negative) sign, indicating lower degrees of raising among the younger speakers. These results are somewhat confusing given the fact that in many of these environments raising does not take place to any significant degree (see sections 3.1.1, 3.1.2). While it might have been possible to regard these correlations as artefacts of the statistical input involved (due to the fact that there was only one older speaker in the male subject group), an alternative analysis excluding this speaker still retained the correlations at the same level of significance for the two ‘traditional’ raising environments, (vlessC and flappedT) although weakening the level of significance to p < .05 for some of the others. Thus, younger men appear to use less raising than their older counterparts in these two environments. F1 (onset) / a / / a / male female male female vlessC -.397** -.104 -.446** -.168 flappedT -.436** -.125 -.386** -.153 voicedC -.160 .017 -.425** -.106 Nasal -.429** -.110 -.199 -.143 N+vlessC .167 -.097 -.216 -.070 R -.405** .030 -.086 -.002 L -.279* -.125 -.196 .020 # -.425** .007 -.287* .061 V -.294* .099 .010 .082 Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 279 F2 (onset) / a / / a / male female male female vlessC -.083 -.083 .257* -.124 flappedT .162 -.272* .292** -.264** voicedC -.007 -.404** .115 -.297* Nasal -.042 -.422** .170 -.022 N+vlessC .132 -.316* .197 -.077 R .028 -.086 .297* -.195 L .011 -.260* .041 -.153 # -.084 -.382** .133 -.003 V -.002 -.215 .153 -.045 Table 2: Pearson correlation coefficients for F1/ F2 (onset) [Hz] vs. age, by phoneme and male/ female speakers. Asterisks indicate p < 0.01 **; p < 0.05 *. 3.3.2 F2 - Fronting A completely different situation emerges from the data for fronting. Here, it is the female speakers who show significant correlations in their use of fronted onsets, while hardly any are observed for the male speakers (see Table 2). Moreover, fronting appears to be more strongly age-graded for the diphthong / a / . As the correlation coefficients displayed in Table 2 have opposite signs for men and women, younger female speakers have higher F2 values, i.e. more fronted diphthong onsets, in those environments that show significant agegrading, while the opposite holds true for the men. 4 Discussion 4.1 Raising Raising mainly occurs in the environments predicted by the ‘traditional’ rule for raising (Chambers 1973). This applies to both phonemes and speakers of both sexes, the data showing a clear differentiation in mean F1 values between the phonetic environments of a following voiceless consonant or a flapped / t/ , and all other environments. Interestingly, it is before the latter consonant that speakers show the most extreme values of F1. Thus, while the status of a following flapped / t/ was anything but clear with respect to raising in the original situation described by Joos in 1942, today it seems to be considered even ‘more voiceless’ than the other, truly voiceless consonants, at least with respect to the F1 or high/ low dimension only. A look at Ingrid Rosenfelder 280 11 It should be noted, however, that all of the above studies considering differences in pronunciation more systematically than in just a few selected lexical items have their main (Boberg 2000) or exclusive (Zeller 1993) focus on the eastern regions of Canada and the United States, where the variety of American English involved in the comparisons is currently undergoing a sound change known as the Northern Cities Chain Shift (Labov 1991; Labov, Ash & Boberg 2006). Moreover, clear differences exist with respect to the cot/ caught merger investigated by Zeller (1993: 187/ 188) between this Northern variety of American English and the General American area in the western United States, which should be considered as the adjacent American speech area for Victoria. Figs. 2 and 3, however, shows that this is only part of the whole truth. The two categories are clearly differentiated by the location of their respective offglides, which are peripheralized to a much greater degree before a following voiceless consonant, which holds true for both / a / and / a / . As discovered by Thomas (1991), these offglides play an important role in the perception of raising, raising being perceived for diphthongs with higher offglides. Therefore, the ‘leading’ phonetic environment for raising appears to be a following flapped / t/ only when solely considering the F1 or high/ low dimension, but a following voiceless consonant when taking into account the overall acoustic realization of the diphthongs. The differentiation with respect to mean F1 values (i.e. raising) between the ‘raising’ and ‘other’ environments is furthermore more pronounced among the female than among the male speakers, as well as to a greater degree for / a / than for / a / . The hypothesis that Canadian English is becoming more American therefore has to be rejected, at least with respect to this variable, as it is in fact / a / -raising which is the perceptually more salient feature of Canadian speech, rather than the raising of / a / . The continued use of / a / raising therefore indicates that Canadian speakers clearly contrast their pronunciation with that of the adjacent American dialect, possibly to emphasize their Canadian identity. At first sight, the above findings seem to contrast with a number of studies providing evidence for an Americanization of Canadian speech (see e.g. Zeller 1993; Nylvek 1992). However, these studies mainly dealt with the choice of lexical items or the pronunciation of selected individual words like either. Where systematic differences in the vowel system were investigated, clear differences between Canadian and American informants emerged (Zeller 1993: 187/ 188). With respect to the vowel system as a whole, marked border effects have also been shown to exist between the United States and Canada by Boberg (2000) 11 . The above findings are also compatible with the original study by Hung, Davison & Chambers (1993), which showed Non-Raising to be only a marginal phenomenon in Victoria. Age-grading of Non-Raising could only be seen in the data by ignoring the Non-Raising Index for the adult male speakers: “Victoria would then show a certain degree of age stratification, but the Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 281 Index scores (all below 10) are too low to suggest that any change is occurring” (Hung, Davison & Chambers 1993: 255). Evidence for the age-stratification of Non-Raising in this study was found for Vancouver only. Even there, the possible decline in the use of raising has not taken place, as shown by the data from Pohler (1994), which suggests that raising is still widespread among young Vancouverites in 1993. Thus, American influence on Canadian English notwithstanding, the Canadian Raising diphthongs appear to be quite resistant to this influence. Regarding the acoustic realization of the Canadian Raising diphthongs with respect to their conditioning phonetic environments further confirms the findings that Canadian English, as far as the Canadian Raising diphthongs are concerned, is distinct from the adjacent American variety. Comparing the data from the present study with the results obtained by Dailey-O’Cain (1997), it becomes clear that Canadian Raising patterns quite differently in Canada than it does in the northern United States. While the studies agree to the extent that they show raising to occur predominantly before voiceless consonants, including flapped / t/ s, they differ in their results for the other phonetic environments investigated. High percentages of raising (approximately 50%) were found in Ann Arbor for / a / in the environments of a following nasal-voiceless consonant cluster and / r/ (Dailey-O’Cain 1997: 111), whereas the latter phonetic environment is in fact the one exhibiting the highest F1 values (i.e. the least raising) in Victoria. On the other hand, raising of / a / in Ann Arbor was found to a small degree only before voiced consonants, while low F1 values found for speakers from Victoria indicate that the rule for raising may have become extended to this environment, with some degree of raising taking place when / a / is followed by a voiced consonant. Raising of / a / , which has been interpreted as progressing in the northern United States, with young females leading the change (Dailey-O’Cain 1997: 117), seems to have extended to include the phonetic environments of a following nasal and nasal-consonant cluster in Victoria. Moreover, there is tentative evidence from the present study to indicate that a change in the opposite direction (less raising) might be taking place for the male speakers in Victoria. 4.2 Fronting Fronting of the diphthongs is widespread among both male and female speakers in Victoria. The phenomenon is more pronounced for / a / than for / a / , and more so for women than for men. The two diphthongs pattern differently with respect to the phonetic environments favoring fronting: for / a / , the highest mean F2 values are observed for following obstruents (including voiced consonants), and, to a lesser degree, for diphthongs preceding nasal-voiceless consonant clusters, / r/ , as well as word-finally. For / a / , Ingrid Rosenfelder 282 fronting is favored before voiceless consonants and flapped / t/ s, nasals and nasal-voiceless consonant clusters, as well as word-finally. In contrast to / a / , onsets show lower F2 values, i.e. less fronting, before voiced consonants. These findings agree with the results obtained in the 1980s by Hung, Davison & Chambers (1993: 254/ 255), who found the youngest generation of speakers from Victoria to front nearly equally in all environments, in contrast to the findings obtained for the other cities investigated, where the “elsewhere” (non-raising) environment was favored for the fronting of / a / . Significant correlations with age found for the diphthong / a / in a number of phonetic environments suggest that a sound change in progress may be going on among female speakers in Victoria, with younger women using more fronted onsets than older women. This concerns primarily the ‘other’, i.e. non-raising environments, although a weak correlation was detected for a following flapped / t/ . At first, the fact that no correlation with age was found for the diphthong when preceding voiceless consonants seems to contradict this hypothesis. However, a look at the data (Fig. 10) shows that this is the environment with the highest degree of fronting already, with an overall mean F2 value lying well above the reference line provided by the vowel in rather. Moreover, it can be gathered from the same figure that the amount of individual variation is also highest for onsets in this environment, encompassing a range of nearly 1000 Hz, which is in fact the complete range of variation for all environments. This suggests that fronting of / a / has already become the norm for this environment, but that this norm may not have established itself firmly yet. Thus, / a / appears to be currently undergoing a sound change in the direction of further fronting in the other environments which has already been completed before voiceless consonants. No such change in the same direction is visible for the diphthong / a / , which, however, consistently features higher F2 values for all environments for both men and women (compare Figs. 9 and 11, 10 and 12). Therefore, the sound change in progress observed in the 1980s by Hung, Davison & Chambers (1993: 251-254) seems to have been completed for / a / , with fronting of the onset of this diphthong having become the norm. The same sound change now appears to be extending to / a / as well. 5 Conclusion Canadian Raising of both diphthongs is still widespread, and still chiefly occurs in the expected phonetic environment, i.e. before a following voiceless consonant. This latter category includes the flapped / t/ . Moreover, the phonetic realization of the raised diphthongs not only includes raising of the onsets, but that of the offglides as well, which supports the theory that Canadian Raising in Victoria, B.C. 283 peripheralization of the offglides may have played a role in the historical origin of the phenomenon. Raising of both / a / and / a / remains firmly established, indicating that the predicted Americanization of Canadian speech has not taken place, as it is in fact the / a / -diphthong whose raising is perceptually most prominent for non-Canadians. If raising is moreover spreading in the northern United States, as reported by Dailey-O’Cain (1997), the two varieties of English are converging, but with respect to the phenomenon of raising, it would then be Canada that is influencing the United States linguistically, and not vice versa. Fronting of the diphthongs is also widespread in Victoria. For / a / , this pronunciation appears to have become the norm, with fronted onsets occurring in virtually all phonetic environments and quite uniformly across individual speakers. Thus, the sound change in progress observed in the 1980s involving this diphthong seems to have been completed, with a corresponding change now taking place for / a / , which appears to be on the increase among younger women in Victoria. In conclusion, Canadian Raising today is still in existence for both diphthongs, but a trend toward fronting of the onsets can be discerned, with / a / being predominantly realized as fronted already, and / a / increasingly becoming so. Acknowledgements This article presents the results of my Wissenschaftliche Arbeit (Lehramt an Gymnasien), written between October 2004 and February 2005 under the supervision of Prof. Beat Glauser at the University of Heidelberg, Germany. I would like to thank the following people for their support: Prof. Glauser for his supervision, especially for establishing connections to Canada for the collection of data; Prof. John H. Esling and Prof. Leslie Saxon at the University of Victoria, for supporting my research and allowing me to use the facilities of the Phonetics Laboratory there; Ricardo Serrano, for technical assistance with the recordings; Prof. Paul Boersma at the University of Amsterdam and Dr. Günther Sawitzki from the Department of Applied Mathematics at the University of Heidelberg, for answering my questions about Praat and statistics, respectively, and finally, my speakers, whose time and effort in participating in this study were greatly appreciated. References Boberg, Charles (2000). “Geolinguistic diffusion and the U.S.-Canadian border”. Language Variation and Change 12. 1-24. Boersma, Paul & Weenink, David (2004). Praat. A system for doing phonetics by computer (Version 4.2.06) [Computer software]. http: / / www.praat.org. [Accessed January 2005]. Ingrid Rosenfelder 284 Chambers, J.K. (1973). “Canadian Raising”. Canadian Journal of Linguistics 18. 113-135. (repr. in Chambers 1975. 83-100.) - and Hardwick, Margaret F. (1986). “Comparative Sociolinguistics of a Sound Change in Canadian English”. English World-Wide 7. 23-46. Dailey-O’Cain, Jennifer (1997). “Canadian raising in a Midwestern U.S. city”. Language Variation and Change 9. 107-120. Emeneau, M.B. (1935). “The dialect of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia”. Language 11. 140-147. Gregg, Robert J. (1973). “The diphthongs i and ai in Scottish, Scotch-Irish and Canadian English”. Canadian Journal of Linguistics 18. 136-145. Hertz, Susan R. (1991). “Streams, phones and transitions: toward a new phonological and phonetic model of formant timing”. Journal of Phonetics 19. 91-109. Hung, Henrietta; Davison, John and Chambers, J.K. (1993). “Comparative Sociolinguistics of (aw)-Fronting”. In: Sandra Clarke (ed.). Focus on Canada, Varieties of English Around the World 11. Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company. 247-267. Joos, Martin (1942). “A Phonological Dilemma in Canadian English”. Language 18. 141-144. (repr. in Chambers 1975. 79-82.) Labov, William (1991). “The three dialects of English”. In: Penelope Eckert (ed.). New Ways of Analyzing Sound Change. New York: Academic. 1-44. - Ash, Sharon & Boberg, Charles (2006). The Atlas of North American English. Phonetics, Phonology and Sound Change. New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Moreton, Elliott (2004). “Realization of the English postvocalic [voice] contrast in F1 and F2”. Journal of Phonetics 32. 1-33. - and Thomas, Erik (2004). “Origins of Canadian Raising in Voiceless-Coda Effects: A Case Study in Phonologization”. Abstract. 9th Conference on Laboratory Phonology. http: / / www.linguistics.uiuc.edu/ labphon9/ Abstract_PDF/ moreton.pdf. [Accessed October 21st, 2004]. Nylvek, Judith A. (1992). “Is Canadian English in Saskatchewan becoming more American? ” American Speech 67. 268-278. Paradis, Carole (1980). “La Règle de Canadian Raising et l’Analyse en Structure Syllabique”. Canadian Journal of Linguistics 25. 35-45. Pohler, Anja N. (1994). Canadian Raising in Vancouver. Unpublished M.A. thesis. University of Heidelberg, Germany. Thomas, Erik R. (1991). “The Origin of Canadian Raising in Ontario”. Canadian Journal of Linguistics 36. 147170. Trudgill, Peter (1984). “New-Dialect formation and the Analysis of Colonial Dialects: The Case of Canadian Raising”. In: H.J. Warkentyne (ed.). Papers from the Fifth International Conference on Methods in Dialectology. Victoria: University of Victoria. 35-46. Vance, Timothy J. (1987). “‘Canadian Raising’ in some Dialects of the Northern United States”. American Speech 62. 195-210. Zeller, Christine (1993). “Linguistic Symmetries, Asymmetries, and Border Effects within a Canadian/ American Sample”. In: Sandra Clarke (ed.). Focus on Canada, Varieties of English Around the World 11. Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company. 179-199. Ingrid Rosenfelder University of Freiburg Freiburg, Germany AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen Shakespeare, Milton und ein Kanon von der Straße Udo O.H. Jung In addition to the orientation function that taxi drivers, postmen and fire fighters profit most from, street signs, which display the names of politicians, soldiers, painters, musicians and writers, to name but a few, also serve a multi-tiered memory function. They initiate complex communication processes and help stock what the sociologist is wont to call a society’s cultural memory. Comprehensive and computer-accessible databases are nowadays available and can be tapped to obtain a bird’s eye view of this repository. Who are the most often quoted British writers on the island’s road signs? Do the results of a data base search coincide with the rank scale that literary historians have set up and school curricula impose? Are there distributional differences between individual authors? If yes, how are they best explained? This paper lists the 20 top-most British writers on the streets of England, Scotland and Wales. It has a closer look at how Shakespeare and Milton fare in this competition for excellence. 1. Einleitung Im Folgenden geht es um Straßennamen, ihre Häufigkeit und Verteilung in England, Schottland und Wales sowie um die Frage, ob und wenn ja, welchen Beitrag sie zur Erhellung des kulturellen Gedächtnisses der Briten zu leisten vermögen. Straßennamenforschung gehört weder in Deutschland (Bering 2002; Glasner 1999; Pöppinghege 2005) noch in England (Room 1992) zu den beliebtesten akademischen Disziplinen. Das überlässt man gerne Freizeitforschern, die ihre Ergebnisse in Heimatblättern und jetzt verstärkt auch im Internet publizieren. Die dabei entstehenden zahlreichen Insellösungen zu einem Gesamtbild zusammenzuführen, war bis dato so gut wie unmöglich. Mit einem Bottom-up-Verfahren sieht der Forscher nämlich vor lauter Bäumen kaum noch den Wald. Dass der lokalhistorische Blick auf die Ursprünge von Straßennamen und die Wandlungen, denen sie im Laufe Udo O.H. Jung 286 der Jahre möglicherweise unterworfen waren, so manch nützliche Information zutage fördert, steht jedoch auf einem ganz anderen Blatt. Die moderne Computertechnologie stellt nun allerdings eine Top-down- Methode zur Verfügung, mit deren Hilfe es möglich wird, zunächst einmal den ‘Wald’ näher zu beschreiben, bevor man sich den einzelnen ‘Bäumen’ zuwendet. Wie in anderen Wissenschaften auch müssen sich die beiden Zugriffsweisen, Bottom-up und Top-down, jedoch langfristig aufeinander zubewegen. Die Top-down-Methode gibt ihrem Gegenstück wertvolle Fingerzeige, an welcher Stelle es sich lohnt, in die Details zu gehen und wo nicht. Dazu später mehr. 2. Über Gedächtnisse Die Frage nach dem kollektiven Gedächtnis taucht erstmals verstärkt in den zwanziger Jahren des vergangenen Jahrhunderts auf. Stammvater der Bewegung ist der französische Soziologe Maurice Halbwachs (1925/ 1966). Aber auch andere Wissenschaftler - Ernst Robert Curtius, Carl Gustav Jung, Oswald Spengler und Aby Warburg - können einen Platz in der Ahnenreihe beanspruchen. Zur Zeit ihrer Entstehung fanden die Thesen Halbwachs’ jedoch nur wenig Widerhall. Erst in den 80er Jahren des 20. Jahrhunderts, als den Geisteswissenschaftlern der Wind heftig ins Gesicht blies, griff man den Faden wieder auf. Hatte Ernst Robert Curtius einem Ondit zufolge den Ruf an eine Technische Hochschule noch mit der Bemerkung abgelehnt, dann müsse er ja “Herr Kollege” zu einem Ingenieur sagen, taten sich seine Schüler nun zu einer Verteidigungsgemeinschaft zusammen, um den Naturwissenschaften und der Politik gegenüber ihre Existenzberechtigung nachweisen zu können. So warb die Universität Bayreuth beispielsweise mit dem Hinweis auf ihre “Schnittstellenphilosophie” um Studenten. Disziplinäre Grenzen sollten überstiegen werden. Das betraf nicht so sehr die Natur- und Materialwissenschaften, die nach wie vor ihre eigenen Forschungsparadigmata pflegten. Es betraf vor allem die vom badenwürttembergischen Ministerpräsidenten Lothar Späth diffamierten “Diskussionswissenschaften”. Hier war der Brükkenschlag am ehesten möglich. Anderenorts gruppierten sich Sozial-, Geistes- und Naturwissenschaften um das Thema “Erinnerungskulturen” und schlossen sich zu einem DFG-geförderten Sonderforschungsbereich zusammen, dessen Zielsetzungen kürzlich von Astrid Erll (2005) beschrieben worden sind. Wortführer dieser Bewegung sind Aleida und Jan Assmann, die “im deutschsprachigen Raum” das “meistdiskutierte Konzept der kulturwissenschaftlichen Gedächtnisforschung” (Erll 2005: 27) vorgelegt haben. Astrid Erll macht zwar darauf aufmerksam, dass Aleida Assmann ihr Modell 2002 fortentwickelt hat, diskutiert es aber nicht weiter. Um so nahe wie möglich an Shakespeare, Milton und ein Kanon von der Straße 287 den gegenwärtigen Diskussionsstand heranzurücken, erläutern wir als nächstes das weiterentwickelte Assmannsche Konzept an einem Vortrag, den sie 2001 und erneut 2002 veröffentlicht hat. 2.1 Die vier Gedächtnisse Weil kein Mensch dem anderen gleicht, ist es legitim, vom individuellen Gedächtnis zu sprechen. Es gilt jedoch ebenso, dass, Halbwachs folgend, “ein absolut einsamer Mensch überhaupt keine Erinnerungen” (Assmann 2001: 36) ausbilden könnte, weshalb die Assmanns es vorziehen, vom kommunikativen Gedächtnis zu sprechen. Es ist ein “Drei-Generationen- Gedächtnis”, das nach etwa 80 bis 100 Jahren Platz macht für den Nachfolger. Neben dem engen Zusammenhalt der in einem Familienverband lebenden drei Generationen sind Individuen “mit ihren Erinnerungen eingespannt in das größere Gedächtnis ihrer Gemeinde, ihrer Stadt, ihrer Generation” (Assmann 2001: 37). Assmann nennt dies das soziale Gedächtnis. Einen qualitativen Sprung gibt es dann beim Übergang zum dritten der vier Gedächtnisse. Dem kollektiven Gedächtnis fehlen die biologische Grundlage und die anthropologische Disposition, die das individuelle/ kommunikative Gedächtnis auszeichnen. Abstrakte Entitäten - Nationen, Staaten, Kirchen, Firmen - haben kein Gedächtnis, sie machen sich eines. Das heißt aber auch, es gibt nicht das eine kollektive Gedächtnis, es gibt deren viele, die “durch und durch intentional verfaßt und symbolisch konstruiert sind” (Assmann 2001: 39). Die einzelne Person partizipiert in unterschiedlich starkem Maße an ihnen. Durch Zeichen, Symbol, Text, Bild, Ritus oder Monument wird sie auf bestimmte Gedächtnisinhalte “eingeschworen” (Assmann 2001: 39). Die “Verschwörer” werden von Assmann nicht näher bezeichnet, auch nicht die Befehlsempfänger. Von ihnen heißt es lediglich, dass sie “Träger des kollektiven Gedächtnisses” (Assmann 2001: 39) seien. Dieses kollektive Gedächtnis existiert nicht “als ein labiles und flüssiges Gebilde, sondern beruht auf symbolischen Zeichen, die die Erinnerung fixieren, verallgemeinern, vereinheitlichen und über Generationen hinweg tradierbar machen” (Assmann 2001: 39). Die von Assmann benutzten Termini zur Beschreibung des kollektiven Gedächtnisses lassen erkennen, dass es sich dabei um eine potentiell gefährliche, die Freiheit beschneidende Erfindung handelt. Tatsächlich ist das nationale Gedächtnis “der Inbegriff eines kollektiven Gedächtnisses” (Assmann 2001: 40). Während nun das kollektive Gedächtnis durch “radikale inhaltliche Führung, hohe symbolische Intensität und starke psychische Affektivität” (Assmann 2001: 43) ein soziales Langzeitgedächtnis auszubilden versucht, erwächst ihm im kulturellen Gedächtnis ein Widersacher. Das kulturelle Gedächtnis - es besteht aus einem Speicher- und einem Funktionsgedächtnis - “widersetzt sich … den Engfüh- Udo O.H. Jung 288 rungen, wie sie für das kollektive Gedächtnis typisch sind” (Assmann 2001: 44). Die Inhalte des kulturellen Gedächtnisses lassen sich nicht “rigoros vereinheitlichen und politisch instrumentalisieren” (Assmann 2001: 44). Die politische Klasse, so muss man folgern, nutzt das kollektive Gedächtnis wie einst Pavlow den konditionierten Reflex bei seinen Hunden, um bestimmte Verhaltensweisen auszulösen. “Während Bild und Schrift für das kollektive Gedächtnis vorwiegend einen Signalwert haben und als Merkzeichen oder Appelle für ein gemeinsam verkörpertes Gedächtnis dienen - eine Inschrift auf dem Autokennzeichen, eine Jahreszahl als Graffito an einer Hauswand -, stützt sich das kulturelle Gedächtnis auf einen komplexen Überlieferungsbestand symbolischer Formen” (Assmann 2001: 43). Zu den im Speicherteil eingelagerten oder im Funktionsteil des kulturellen Gedächtnisses gepflegten “kulturellen Artefakten” gehören sicherlich auch die Werke jener Schriftsteller, die nach Meinung von Literaturpäpsten und Literaturwissenschaftlern zum Kanon gezählt werden müssen, aber auch die Autoren selbst. Die Kanondiskussion hat mittlerweile zahlreiche Veröffentlichungen (Ackermann 2001; Arnold 2002; Neuhaus 2002) hervorgebracht, auf die hier nicht näher eingegangen werden kann. Von Interesse ist die Frage, welchem der vier Gedächtnisse das im täglichen Leben omnipräsente Straßenschild mit den Namen bekannter und auch vergessener Künstler u.ä. darauf zuarbeitet. Wie der von Aleida Assmann erwähnte Appell auf frankokanadischen Autokennzeichen (Je me souviens [Ich erinnere mich, und zwar an die Niederlage gegen die Engländer im Jahre 1759]) die neu zu erkämpfende Eigenständigkeit des von General De Gaulle bereits als Québec libre bezeichneten Gebiets anmahnt, so gehört auch das Straßenschild, folgt man der Assmannschen Einteilung, ins kollektive Gedächtnis. Aber kann man auch sagen, dass Straßenschilder “für bestimmte, meist politische Zwecke” (Assmann 2001: 43) instrumentalisiert werden? Oder ist es nicht doch auch so, dass Straßenschilder sich in demokratischen Gesellschaften wie die Karteikarten im Gesamtkatalog des Speichergedächtnisses verhalten und den Weg weisen zum kulturellen Gedächtnis der Nation? Für beide Annahmen gibt es genügend Anhaltspunkte. Die Namen von Soldaten - oder deren Fehlen - auf den Straßenschildern von Ex-BRD und Ex-DDR (Jung 2001), ja selbst die jeweiligen Schriftstellernamensinventare (Jung 2005) können dem jeweiligen kollektiven Gedächtnis zuarbeiten, aber sie können auch das kulturelle Arsenal aufschließen und damit den Weg freimachen für eine intensive Auseinandersetzung mit den dort eingelagerten kulturellen Artefakten. Denn die hier in Frage stehenden ‘Karteikarten’ sind besonders stabil und werden nur im Extremfall entfernt. Sie sind Teil der Alltagswelt und in dauerndem Gebrauch. Mit 80 Millionen Briefen täglich sorgen Briefschreiber und auch Briefempfänger in Großbritannien darüber hinaus dafür, dass die Namen Eingang finden in das kommunikative Gedächtnis des Einzelnen und so auch ein soziales Lang- Shakespeare, Milton und ein Kanon von der Straße 289 zeitgedächtnis ausgebildet wird. Briefträger, Polizisten und Feuerwehrleute, Taxifahrer und Ortsfremde nutzen ihre Orientierungsfunktion. Soweit Straßenschilder nicht erinnern (an Personen und politische Ereignisse wie den 17. Juni 1953), verweisen sie auf Sachverhalte (Flora, Fauna, Berufe, ja sogar literarische Gestalten), deren Kenntnisnahme durch die einheimische Bevölkerung als wichtig erachtet wird. Für Zuwanderer und Fremdsprachenlernende findet hier außerdem eine Einführung in elementare sprachliche und landeskundliche Gegebenheiten statt. In ihrer Gesamtheit sind Straßenschilder mit dem Segen und der Legitimation der Lokalpolitik ausgestattete Informationsträger, die wie Personen- und Sachindices in Publikationen und Bibliotheken fungieren. Wie dieser Informationsschatz angezapft werden kann, soll nun im Folgenden dargestellt werden. 3. Über Straßennamendatenbanken und ihre Nutzung Die Stadt- und Postverwaltungen hochindustrialisierter Länder sind darauf angewiesen, dass sie ihre Klientel schnell und zuverlässig identifizieren und kontaktieren können. Einwohnermeldeämter, so vorhanden, registrieren die Bewohner und ihre Adressen. Die Postverwaltungen haben die von ihnen versorgten Gebiete mit einem Netz von Postleitzahlen (Post Codes/ Zip Codes) überzogen, mit deren Hilfe Straßen oder auch nur Teile von Straßen identifiziert werden können. Das 1993 im wiedervereinigten Deutschland eingeführte Postleitzahlenverzeichnis listete sämtliche Straßen in 209 größeren Städten mit den dazugehörigen Postleitzahlen auf. Inzwischen findet man alle deutschen Straßennamen mit den dazugehörigen Postleitzahlen im Internet. Datenbankabfragen gestatten es, Häufigkeits-/ Ranglisten deutscher Schriftsteller, Soldaten, Maler, Frauenrechtlerinnen, Politiker und Schauspieler, um nur einige zu nennen, aufzustellen. In Großbritannien scheint es sogar gelungen zu sein, durch Zusammenführung einzelner Datenstämme genauere Angaben über den sozioökonomischen Status der Bewohner einzelner Straßenzüge zu machen (URL 1). Werbemaßnahmen können so kostengünstig und ganz gezielt an bestimmte Gruppen adressiert werden. Wir wollen den Fall des transparenten Bürgers hier jedoch nicht weiter verfolgen, sondern der Frage nachgehen, ob und wenn ja, wie häufig in England, Schottland und Wales englischsprachige Schriftsteller durch Straßenbenennungen geehrt worden sind. Dabei geht es nicht allein um eine Rangreihe, sondern auch um die geographische Verteilung der Straßennamen. Dass es in Ballungsräumen zu einer Verdichtung einzelner Namen kommt, ist zu erwarten, das Ausbleiben erwarteter Verdichtungen in bestimmten Gegenden wäre jedoch näher zu untersuchen. Hier ist die bereits Udo O.H. Jung 290 erwähnte Nahtstelle zwischen Top-down- und Bottom-up-Forschungsvorhaben. Für den Untersuchungsraum stehen zwei Quellen zur Verfügung. Da ist zum einen die unter URL 2 erreichbare Datenbank, die nach Eingabe des Suchnamens sämtliche avenues, lanes, roads, streets, crescents, terraces und drives etc. auswirft, denen der jeweilige Suchname vorausgeht. Zusätzlich wird der jeweilige Post Code angezeigt, so dass man die zugehörige Straße geographisch ziemlich gut verorten kann. Wer möchte, kann auch noch eine Karte zuschalten, auf der die Nachbarstraßen verzeichnet sind. So lässt sich feststellen, ob es zu Cluster-Bildungen in einzelnen Städten, zu Musiker-, Maler-, Komponisten- oder Schriftstellervierteln kommt. Die Ermittlung der Häufigkeit von Straßennamen ist jedoch mit gewissen Schwierigkeiten verbunden, weil sehr langen Straßenzügen mehrere Post Codes zugeordnet worden sind. In Zweifelsfällen sollte man deshalb auf eine weitere, unter URL 3 verfügbare Datenbank zurückgreifen. Hier erhält man eine um Doubletten bereinigte Auflistung der Häufigkeit, mit der einzelne Personen in den drei Landesteilen durch Straßennamen geehrt worden sind. Da auf der Insel die Vornamen der Geehrten meist nicht genannt werden, ist mit einem gewissen Unsicherheitsfaktor zu rechnen. Eine Verfälschung der Ergebnisse kann aber durch Ausschluss kritischer Fälle - die Brontë- Schwestern, Robert und Elizabeth Browning oder Charles und Mary Lamb beispielsweise - vermieden werden. 4. Ein Kanon von der Straße? In der fremdsprachendidaktischen Literatur (Freese 1981; Glaap 1982; Schreyer 1978; Weller 2000) häufen sich die Klagen, dass die Schüler seit Jahr und Tag dieselben Bücher zu lesen bekommen. Nünning & Surkamp (2006: 457) kleiden diese bedauerliche Situation in den Satz: “Schülerinnen und Schüler von heute müssen also Texte lesen, die ihre Lehrer selbst schon in ihrer eigenen Schulzeit gelesen haben”. Es steht zu vermuten, dass dies auch etwas mit der Lehrerausbildung an den Hochschulen zu tun hat. In beiden Fällen gilt jedoch - mehr oder minder - , dass die Lektüreauswahl unter didaktischen, unter fremdsprachendidaktischen und unter erinnerungskulturellen Aspekten zu erfolgen hat. Dabei muss im Sinne landeskundlicher Repräsentativität auch berücksichtigt werden, welche Würdigung die Schriftsteller und ihre Werke im eigenen Land erfahren haben. Die Entscheidungsträger sind dann nicht mehr allein Literaturwissenschafter und -kritiker, sondern auch die aktiv an der Gestaltung des öffentlichen Lebens teilnehmenden und gewählten Vertreter des Volkes. In Großbritannien wie in Deutschland entscheiden die Stadträte auf Vorschlag über Straßenbenennungen. Sie setzen mit jedem neuen Straßennamen, mit jeder Umbenen- Shakespeare, Milton und ein Kanon von der Straße 291 nung oder, was die Regel ist, mit dem Verzicht auf Umbenennung zahllose Kommunikationsketten in Gang, die einen wichtigen Beitrag zum sozialen Langzeitgedächtnis leisten. Auf der Suche nach diesem Gedächtnis haben wir - unter Auslassung der als kritisch erachteten Fälle - die Namen englischsprachiger Autoren in die Straßennamendatenbanken eingegeben. Das hat auch Richard Webber getan, der ein ausgeklügeltes System entwickelt hat, sogar den sozioökonomischen Status der Bewohner einzelner Straßenzüge zu ermitteln. In seinem Aufsatz “The Naming of British Streets” (URL 4) macht er darauf aufmerksam, dass “streets names [sic] after famous authors are most likely to describe areas of council housing, particularly those which are the most deprived neighbourhoods of low rise buildings …” (Webber 2006: 7). Es ist anzunehmen, dass die Stadtväter bzw. die als “developers” bezeichneten Bauunternehmer versucht haben, die Wohngegend auf diese Weise aufzuwerten. Webber, der auch ermittelt hat, dass der generische Teil von Straßennamen aussagekräftig sein kann - Street beispielsweise oder Terrace haben geringen, Wood und Lane haben hohen gesellschaftlichen Status - kann sehr elaborate Statistiken vorlegen und seine Schlüsse daraus ziehen: “Shelley, Keats and Coleridge, for example, have very few ‘Streets’ named after them …” (Webber 2006: 9). Aber obwohl er deutlich gesehen hat, dass “Burns [sic] popularity is much greater among Scottish local authority estates” (Webber 2006: 9), dass also die Verteilung von Straßennamen auch regional-landsmannschaftlich motiviert sein kann, verzichtet er darauf, die Straßennamendistribution in ihrem geographischen Bezug darzulegen. Dieses Versäumnis soll hier nachgeholt werden. Gäbe man einem Literaturwissenschafter auf zu raten, welche Karte die nach Shakespeare und welche die nach Milton benannten Straßen in England, Schottland und Wales darstellt, die Antwort würde lauten, Abbildung 1 zeigt, in welchen Städten und Dörfern der Schwan von Avon geehrt worden ist. William Shakespeare gilt gemeinhin als der Nationaldichter auf der Insel und als der Welt bedeutendster Autor: “There is no other work, however beautiful, that does not seem monotonous after Shakespeare” (Legouis & Cazamian 1961: 438). Nicht nur in Deutschland, auch in den USA ergeben Umfragen an Universitäts-Departments (s. z.B. URL 5) die Vorrangstellung des elisabethanischen Dramatikers. Tatsächlich verhält es sich genau umgekehrt. John Milton führt die Statistik mit 586 Nennungen an, Shakespeare nimmt mit 233 Nennungen lediglich den 5. Rang ein. Byron, Tennyson und Wordsworth liegen noch vor ihm, wie Tabelle 1 zeigt. Die beiden eingangs erwähnten Quellen für Tabelle 1 widersprechen sich ohne erkennbaren Grund gelegentlich heftig, wie im Falle von Kyd, meist aber nur milde. Die leichten Schwankungen erklären sich wahrscheinlich dadurch, dass manch lange Straße mehr als eine Postleitzahl hat. Londons Udo O.H. Jung 292 Abbildung 1 Shakespeare, Milton und ein Kanon von der Straße 293 Abbildung 2 Udo O.H. Jung 294 berühmte Einkaufsstraße, Oxford Street, ist beispielsweise mit zwei Post Codes, W_1C und W_1D, ausgestattet worden. Bei der Häufigkeitszählung 1 (Spalte 1) sind die Doubletten entfernt worden. Die Zahlen in Spalte 2 sind dennoch nicht bedeutungslos. Lange Straßen mit vielen Postleitzahlen deuten auf eine größere Einwohner- und damit Kommunikationsdichte hin. So hat die Royal Mail die Londoner Cromwell Road in zahlreiche, die Datenbank nennt 8 Fälle, Zustellbereiche eingeteilt, um die Briefflut besser bewältigen zu können. Geht die Cromwell Road nur als eine Straße in die Statistik ein, erfährt der Forscher nichts oder nur wenig über die tatsächlich stattfindenden Kommunikationsabläufe. Tabelle 1 N° Name Häufigkeit 1 Häufigkeit 2 1 Milton 586 633 2 Byron 333 424 3 Tennyson 288 321 4 Wordsworth 247 268 5 Shakespeare 233 261 6 Ruskin 204 207 7 Chaucer 196 212 8 Keats 172 184 9 Addison 164 177 10 Hardy 147 190 11 Kyd 145 1 12 Dryden 132 129 13 Dickens 131 129 14 Arnold 130 131 15 Kipling 127 128 16 Swift 108 98 17 Sheridan 107 97 18 Bennett 102 102 19 Stevenson 92 91 20 Cowley 80 87 Wir lassen diesen Autorenkanon bei Rangplatz 20 aus praktischen Erwägungen enden und gehen auch nicht der Frage nach, warum beispielsweise Austen, Bunyan, Congreve, Defoe, Goldsmith, Marlowe oder Pope nicht unter den ersten 20 sind. Statt dessen kehren wir zu dem verblüffenden Ergebnis zurück, dass Milton Shakespeare um Längen schlägt, und versuchen unter Beiziehung der Abbildungen 1 und 2, eine erste Erklärung dafür Shakespeare, Milton und ein Kanon von der Straße 295 zu finden. Tatsächlich ähneln sich die Straßennamendistributionen für die beiden Autoren ja in vieler Hinsicht. Die Bevölkerungskonzentrationen in und um London, Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool und Sheffield spiegeln sich in den Karten. Dass die von Milton dabei eine größere Dichte aufweist, erklärt sich aus seiner mehr als zweifachen numerischen Überlegenheit. Es gibt aber auch eine entscheidende Differenz zwischen den beiden Abbildungen. Verliefe die Grenze zwischen England und Schottland nicht weiter südlich, man könnte auf die Idee kommen, der nördliche Teil von Großbritannien riegelte sich entlang der Achse Edinburgh/ Glasgow von Shakespeare ab: Schottland ist Milton-Land. Und dafür muss es eine Erklärung geben, nicht nur für die generelle Überlegenheit des Epikers über den Dramatiker. Bottom-up-Forschung in Archiven und Rathäusern könnte hier offenbaren, zu welchem Zeitpunkt die Straßenbenennung erfolgt ist. Denn dass es Straßenbenennungsmoden gegeben hat, wird von Alegeo (1978), vor allem aber von Webber betont: “Clearly fashions in street ending have changed over time. Street endings which are most common in areas built before 1914 include both metropolitan (‘Yard’, ‘Mews’) and rural ones. It is interesting that one of the most common forms of street ending, ‘street’ itself, is one of [sic] most likely to be associated with 19 th century urban form” (Webber 2006: 4). Nicht nur der generische Teil von Straßennamen, auch der spezifizierende dürfte Schwankungen unterworfen gewesen sein. Noch Matthew Arnold wusste über Shakespeare zu sagen, er sei “divinely strong, rich, and attractive. But sureness of perfect style Shakespeare himself does not possess” (Arnold 1888/ 1966: 263). Über Milton heißt es hundert Jahre zuvor bei Dr. Johnson: “He hated monarchs in the State, and prelates in the Church” (Johnson 1779/ 1964: 93). Da kommen also zum einen literarische, zum anderen politische und religiöse Kriterien ins Spiel. Milton war der Sekretär von Oliver Cromwell, der seinen König verurteilen und köpfen ließ. Milton war Puritaner und Republikaner. In Schottland sympathisierte man mit solchem Gedankengut. Über die Schotten weiß Macaulay zu berichten, dass “in no part of Europe had the Calvinistic doctrine and discipline taken so strong a hold on the public mind” (Macaulay 1848/ 1962: 70). Er berichtet auch (1848/ 1962: 374-377), welch grausamen Verfolgungen so mancher Schotte ausgesetzt war, als die Stuarts auf den Thron zurückkehrten. Nicht unerwähnt lässt er auch, dass im, wie die Assmans heute sagen würden, kommunikativen Gedächtnis seiner Zeit die Erinnerung daran noch lebendig war. Und Macaulay schrieb zu einer Zeit, als die Verstädterung und die Proletarisierung massiv einsetzte. Zwischen 1841 und 1901 stieg beispielsweise die Bevölkerung Londons von 1.949 auf 4.536 Millionen. Es galt, neue Häuser und Straßen zu bauen, und es ist wahrscheinlich, dass Milton damals den größeren Anteil davon abbekommen hat. Noch wahrscheinlicher ist es, dass sich die Schotten des Udo O.H. Jung 296 Engländers Milton auch deshalb besonders erinnerten, weil er - wie sie - wegen seiner Überzeugungen zu leiden gehabt hatte. 5. Ausblick Jetzt kommt es darauf an, den “schottischen Riegel” zwischen Edinburgh und Glasgow mit seinen Ausläufern bis Kilmarnock und Kircaldy lokalhistorisch und chronologisch zu untersuchen. Adrian Room (1992) hat dafür ein nützliches Hilfsmittel geschaffen. Room, dies sei en passant bemerkt, hat die Häufigkeit von Straßennamen in den Ballungsräumen von Greater London und Greater Manchester in zwei Appendices (pp. 199 bis 205) zusammengestellt, soweit sie oberhalb einer Mindestfrequenz von 30 liegen. Shakespeare kommt weder in London noch in Manchester in die ‘Charts’. Milton dagegen belegt in London Rang 39 und in Manchester Rang 24. Die Literaturwissenschaft aber ebenso wie die Fremdsprachendidaktik muss zur Kenntnis nehmen und zukünftig berücksichtigen, dass in Großbritannien der Autorenkanon von der Straße nicht deckungsgleich ist mit dem, was von der Literaturgeschichtsschreibung als beachtenswert vermittelt wird. Das Argument, dieser Straßenkanon sei veraltet und starr, den Bedürfnissen der neuen Zeit gegenüber nicht aufgeschlossen genug, ist nicht von der Hand zu weisen, aber es übersieht, dass das soziale Langzeitgedächtnis sich aus Interaktionen speist, die nicht zuletzt von Straßennamen mit ausgelöst werden. Eine kulturwissenschaftlich ausgerichtete Literaturwissenschaft will auch dieses beharrende Element zur Kenntnis nehmen, und der Fremdsprachendidaktik kann es auch nicht egal sein, dass Milton im Verständnis der Inselbewohner Shakespeare übertrumpft. Könnte es nun aber nicht sein, dass das, was wie ein später Sieg puritanischer Strenge über die Spielleidenschaft (im weitesten Sinne) der Inselbewohner aussieht, durch andere Faktoren gemildert wird? Mit seinen aus dem Leben gegriffenen Figuren erreichte Shakespeare nicht nur die feine Gesellschaft, sondern auch die groundlings im pit. Den Romeos und Juliets ist seine außerordentliche Popularität doch in erster Linie geschuldet. Wenn sie nun den Weg von der Bühne auf das Straßenschild gefunden hätten und Milton auf diesem Feld unterlegen wäre, würde nicht dies das verblüffende Paradox auflösen? Fragen wir also: Welche Shakespearestücke und deren dramatis personae tauchen auf Straßenschildern auf? Die folgende Tabelle gibt Auskunft. Shakespeare, Milton und ein Kanon von der Straße 297 Tabelle 2 N° Name Häufigkeit der Nennungen 1 Hamlet 39 2 Falstaff 23 3 Macbeth 19 4 Oberon 18 5 Ariel 15 6 Miranda 13 7 Cordelia 12 8 Othello 11 9 Juliet 10 10 Portia 9 11 Regan 8 12 Prospero 7 13 Cressida 4 14 Titania 3 14 Tybalt 3 14 COMUS 3 18 Ophelia 3 18 Romeo 2 18 Cymbeline 2 21 Cassio 1 21 Caliban 1 21 Coriolanus 1 21 Fortinbras 1 21 Hermione 1 21 Julius Caesar 1 21 King Lear 1 21 Shylock 1 Der Großteil der Namen aus Tabelle 2 könnte aus Shakespearestücken stammen, obwohl Ariel ebenso wie Hermione bei Shakespeare und bei Milton vorkommen und Cressida auf Chaucer zurückgehen könnte. Für Milton wurden lediglich 3 Comusstraßen gefunden. Zählte man nun diese 205 Straßen jenen 233 Straßen, die Shakespeares Namen tragen, hinzu, der Vorsprung Miltons betrüge nur noch 148 Straßen und Shakespeare rückte auf Platz 2 der Gesamtliste vor. Wie legitim ist ein solches Vorgehen? Methodisch gesehen verlassen wir die primäre Ebene unserer Untersuchung. Die Fragestellung ist eine andere Udo O.H. Jung 298 geworden und wir bekommen es mit einer Reihe von Unwägbarkeiten zu tun. Soll man nach den Namen historischer Persönlichkeiten suchen, die mit Titeln von Shakespearestücken identisch sind? Soll man nach Personennamen suchen, die alltäglich sind oder waren, in Shakespearestücken aber tragende Rollen spielen? Kann man sicher sein, dass Oberon- und Titaniastraßen, um nur einige Fälle aufzugreifen, in denen Musiker von Händel bis Verdi dieselben Stoffe wie Shakespeare bearbeitet haben, tatsächlich auf Shakespearestücke rekurrieren? Und auf was gehen Hamletstraßen zurück? Ein Blick in auch nur einfache Lexika belehrt darüber, wie problematisch die Zuordnung auch in diesem Fall ist. Am Ende muss man sagen, dass Falstaff-, Ariel- und Prosperostraßen auf Falstaff, Ariel und Prospero verweisen. Während Shakespeare- und Miltonstraßen eindeutig erkennbar sind, bereiten Caliban- und Cressidastraßen nicht nur dem Ungebildeten Schwierigkeiten, den Brückenschlag zu ihrem Schöpfer/ ihren Schöpfern vorzunehmen. Bottom-up-Forschung wird, das darf man abschließend sagen, keine grundlegende Korrektur, aber möglicherweise die eine oder andere Verschiebung im Gesamtbild bewirken. Wenn der vorliegende Beitrag dazu den Anstoß geliefert haben sollte, dann hätte er eines seiner Ziele erreicht. Bibliographie Ackermann, I. (2001). “Fragen des literarischen Kanons”. In: G. Helbig et al. (eds.). Deutsch als Fremdsprache. Ein internationales Handbuch. Berlin: de Gruyter. 1346-1352. Algeo, J. (1978). “From classic to classy: changing fashions in street names”. Names 26. 80-95. Arnold, M. (1888/ 1966). “Milton”. In: M. Arnold (ed.). Essays in criticism. Second series. London: Dent. 261-266. Assmann, A. (2001). “Vier Formen von Gedächtnis”. w&w Stifterverband 4. 34-45. Assmann, A. (2002). “Vier Formen des Gedächtnisses”. Erwägen, Wissen, Ethik 13: 2. 239-247. Bering, D. (2002). “Das Gedächtnis der Stadt. Neue Perspektiven der Straßennamenforschung”. In: D. Kremer in Zusammenarbeit mit Maria Giovanna Arcamone (eds.). Onomastik. Band I. Chronik. Namenetymologie und Namengeschichte. Forschungsprojekte. Tübingen: Niemeyer. 209-225. Erll, A. (2005). Kollektives Gedächtnis und Erinnerungskulturen. Stuttgart: Metzler. Freese, P. (1981 2 ). “‘Kanonbildung’ und ‘Wertungskompetenz’: zu den Problemen der Textauswahl für den fremdsprachlichen Literaturunterricht”. In: P. Freese / L. Hermes (eds.). Der Roman im Englischunterricht der Sekundarstufe II. Theorie und Praxis. Paderborn: Schöningh. 47-84. Glaap, A.-R. (1982). “Für einen offenen Kanon. Zeitgenössische englische Dramen als Schullektüren, Identitätsangebote und Gesprächsanlässe”. In: H. Hunfeld (ed.). Literaturwissenschaft - Literaturunterricht: Englisch. Königstein i.Ts.: Scriptor. 178-190. Glasner, P. (1999). “Ein sprachhistorischer Beitrag zur Semiotik der Stadt: das Pilotprojekt ‘Kölner Straßennamen’”. Muttersprache 109: 4. 316-330. Halbwachs, M. (1950/ 1985). Das kollektive Gedächtnis. Frankfurt a.M.: Fischer. Shakespeare, Milton und ein Kanon von der Straße 299 Hein, J. (1990). “Kanon-Diskussion in Literaturdidaktik und Öffentlichkeit: Eine Bestandsaufnahme”. In: D. Kochan (ed.). Literaturdidaktik, Lektürekanon, Literaturunterricht. Amsterdam/ Atlanta: Rodopi. 311-346. Johnson, S. (1779/ 1964). “John Milton 1608-1674”. In: S. Johnson. Lives of the English poets. Volume one. London: Dent. 55-114. Jung, U.O.H. (2001). “Deutschland, einig Vaterland? ” Zielsprache Deutsch 32: 1-2. 32-46. Jung, U.O.H. (2005). “Straßennamen als kollektives Gedächtnis einer Gemeinschaft”. Deutsch als Fremdsprache 42: 2. 95-101. Legouis, E. / L. Cazamian (1961). A History of English literature. London: Dent. Macaulay, T.B. (1848/ 1962). History of England. London: Dent (4 volumes). Neuhaus, S. (2002). Revision des literarischen Kanons. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Nünning, A. / C. Suhrkamp (2006). “Kanonfrage und Textauswahl im fremdsprachlichen Literaturunterricht”. In: U.O.H. Jung (ed.). Praktische Handreichung für Fremdsprachenlehrer. Frankfurt a.M.: Peter Lang. 457-463. Pöppinghege, R. (2005). Geschichte mit Füßen getreten: Straßennamen und Gedächtniskultur in Deutschland. Paderborn: Universität Paderborn (Paderborner Universitätsreden 94). Room, A. (1992). The street names of England. Stamford: Paul Watkins. Schreyer, R. (1978). “Englische Oberstufenlektüre in Nordrhein-Westfalen. Ergebnisse einer Umfrage bei den Studienanfängern der Anglistik im WS 1976/ 76”. Neusprachliche Mitteilungen aus Wissenschaft und Praxis 31: 2. 82-90. Webber, R. (2006). “The naming of British streets”. (= URL 4). Weller, F.R. (2000). “Literatur im Französischunterricht heute. Bericht über eine größere Erhebung zum Lektüre-‘Kanon’”. Französisch heute 2. 138-159. Wiesinger, P. (ed.) (2003). Zeitenwende. Die Germanistik auf dem Weg vom 20. ins 21. Jahrhundert. Band 8. Frankfurt a.M.: Peter Lang. Internetadressen 1 http: / / www.upmystreet.com/ [angesehen am 11.05.2007] 2 http: / / www.streetmap.co.uk [angesehen am 11.05.2007] 3 http: / / www.originsinfo.com/ StreetNames/ Default.aspx [angesehen am 11.05.2007] 4 http: / / www.originsinfo.com/ downloads/ StreetNames.doc [angesehen am 11.05.2007] 5 http: / / www.adfl.org/ ade/ bulletin/ n110/ 110040.htm [angesehen am 06.08.2006] Udo O.H. Jung Bismarckallee 1 53173 Bonn Narr Francke Attempto Verlag GmbH + Co. KG Postfach 25 60 · D-72015 Tübingen · Fax (0 7071) 97 97-11 Internet: www.narr.de · E-Mail: info@narr.de This book introduces students of English to one of the most fascinating and at the same time most difficult parts of language: Phraseology. Commonly known as phrases and idioms, phraseological units are fascinating because of their colourful authenticity and the insight they provide into a language community’s culture and history. Due to their frequently unpredictable meanings and their connotations these units are problematic, especially for foreign learners. The book was conceived for university classes as a coursebook with exercises, but it can also be used for self-study. It familiarizes readers with the key concepts in phraseology research and examines the behaviour and functions of phraseological units in discourse. With more than 200 examples drawn from a wide variety of written and spoken sources (including, above all, literary texts, newspapers, advertisements, comics, and films), the book illustrates the significant role that phraseology plays in the English language. Sabine Fiedler English Phraseology A Coursebook narr studienbücher 2007, 198 Seiten, €[D] 19,90/ Sfr 33,80 ISBN 978-3-8233-6338-5 AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga in South Australia Ulrike Haslinger This article deals with some of the complex issues involved in language policy for Indigenous languages in South Australia. For many languages which are endangered at present, past language policies are responsible for deliberately putting them aside. However, today’s language policy documents, both universal and specifically Australian, are highly appreciative of the linguistic, cultural, social and political benefits of Indigenous language maintenance and revival. Nevertheless, the reality concerning Indigenous languages in Australia is not satisfactory, as the case study of the Narungga language of Yorke Peninsula, South Australia, shows. In particular, this article focuses on the development of the Narungga language project, which was initiated by the Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association Inc. (NAPA) in 2001. Narungga is one of the South Australian languages which suffered extremely from English language imperialism in Australia. Up until the NAPA project, Narungga was considered extinct, and little interest was shown to reclaim the language. NAPA proved that much more language material had been documented than was initially thought, which now raises hopes of a total revival of the Narungga language and culture. This article presents the NAPA language project with its difficulties and laudable successes from a language policy point of view. 1. The significance of Aboriginality First Nation Australians have managed to preserve their cultural and linguistic heritage for more than 200 years in a world that has been created and dominated by Anglo-Australian mainstream culture and monolingualism. This world has proved extremely hostile towards Aboriginal languages and culture. Even today Aboriginal Australians have to assert themselves in a society that is based on Anglo-Australian ethnocentrism. The fact that linguis- Ulrike Haslinger 302 tic heritage has survived oppression to various extents makes us realise that the Indigenous will to survive is alive and Aboriginality still plays a significant role in the lives of First Nation Australians. 2. Language policy and the dominance of English For many languages which are endangered at present, past language policies are responsible for deliberately putting them aside. Language policies were always imposed on languages of minor importance with negative consequences. In the case of Australia, British colonisers did not only conquer the Aboriginal continent physically but also linguistically, i.e. they have promoted and insisted upon the use of English since their arrival. Even though a great variety of community languages are spoken in Australia, English is one of the major languages of every day conversation - at least in the urban centres. In addition, many governmental actions and programmes in favour of Indigenous languages rely on English as the medium of transmission. According to Lo Bianco and Freebody, it was due to this secure position of English that embracing multilingualism has become feasible and the Australian language policy has become more public and more accountable with “a national interest in the cultivation of the linguistic resources of the population for the economic, cultural, and educational benefit” (Lo Bianco/ Freebody 1997: 109). Past language policies in Australia naturally affected languages other than English causing many native tongues to disappear altogether and left others with poor documentation and at best a handful of fluent speakers: maltreatment and marginalisation forced these native languages into either silence or states from which they have never fully recovered. In Australia, this affected around 250 distinct languages and approximately 600 dialects which were spoken by a few hundred to a few thousand individuals per language when the Europeans landed in the eighteenth century (cf. Walsh 1993: 6; Dixon 1980: 18). According to the data used by Walsh in 1993, 160 Aboriginal languages are extinct, 70 are considered endangered and only 20 are maintained. Only 10% of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, as Aboriginal Australians are officially called, living in present-day Australia, who comprise approximately 1% - 1.5% of the total population, speak their native tongues (cf. Schmidt 1990: 1; House of Representatives 1992: 15). The Northern Territory is home to most of the surviving languages. Indigenous languages have survived more often in remote areas, in areas ‘off the beaten track’ where they were not confronted with European interference (cf. Schmidt 1990: 3). By being exposed to English as the sole official language since the arrival of the Europeans, much pressure was and still is being put on Aboriginal languages (cf. House of Representatives 1992: 22-23). This Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga 303 1 a. Universal Documents • Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948) • International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (1976) • Declaration on the Rights of Persons Belonging to National or Ethnic, Religious and Linguistic Minorities (1992) • Draft Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (1995) • Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights (1996) b. Papers related to Australia • Australian Linguistic Society: linguistic rights (1984) • A National Language Policy (1984) • National Policy on Languages (1987) • The Language of Australia. Discussion Paper on an Australian Literacy and Language Policy for the 1990s • Australia’s Language: the Australian Language and Literacy Policy (1991) • Recognition Rights and Reform (1995) • Principles and Recommendations Arising from the Review of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander language maintenance and development needs and activities (1996) • A National Strategy for the Education of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples (1996-2002) monolingual pressure is regarded by Fishman (cf. 2001b: 6) as the major obstacle in the preservation of Indigenous languages. Aboriginal people’s concern for their endangered Indigenous languages was well expressed in the 1992 survey carried out by the House of Representatives Standing Committee on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Affairs. At various levels, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people made a strong claim for the maintenance, revival or reclamation of their native languages (cf. House of Representatives 1992: 33) and they were especially worried about “the non-transmission to children, simplification or pidginisation of the language, and the encroachment of English, Creole or another traditional language” (House of Representatives 1992: 33). 3. Dealing with linguistic diversity The Australian language policy for Aboriginal languages is a vivid example of the controversial nature of language policy. This controversy refers to the discrepancy between language policy as text and language policy as discourse (Ball 1993; accessed at www.nlconference.org/ docs/ LoBianco_ paper.doc, 14 April, 2006). Language policy discourse happens during the language planning phase. For this study, however, it was crucial to expand Ball’s theory of language policy as text and discourse by including an investigation of a third phase involved in successful language policy, namely that of its implementation. Up until the present, innumerable resource documents on Indigenous languages have been produced in Australia and a considerable number of those texts 1 have been analysed carefully for the case study of the Narungga Ulrike Haslinger 304 • Economic, social and cultural rights of Indigenous peoples in Australia. Indigenous Rights in the Commonwealth project (2001-2004) • “Keep That Language Going! ” A Needs-Based Review of the Status of Indigenous languages in South Australia (2002) • Rigney, Lester-Irabinna, “Bread versus Freedom: treaty and stabilising Indigenous Language” (2002a) • Rigney, Lester-Irabinna, “Re-imagining a Reconciled Australia: The Catastrophe before Us in Stabilising Indigenous Languages”. Key Note address at the ‘Sharing the Space’ Conference in July 2002, at Flinders University, Adelaide, Australia, (2002b) • Summary of AIATSIS’ Keep that Language Going! report and its implications • Regional Plan 2004-2005 • Commission Decision, Paper No. 3444 on Endangered Languages • Program Guidelines 2004-05, Maintenance of Indigenous Languages and Records • ATSIC strategic policy to keep Aboriginal languages alive in SA • ATSIC State Executive Committee’s partnership policy • Actions from the inter-agency meeting held 25 February 2004 to discuss cooperative support of Indigenous languages in SA • Language Strategic Goals (Figures) • Treaty - let’s get it right, booklet language presented in this article. Narungga is one of the Aboriginal languages native to South Australia. Narungga people lived on and travelled through Yorke Peninsula a long time before European settlement. Records of their presence on Yorke Peninsula can be found everywhere (accessed at: http: / / www.fatsil.org/ LOTM/ mar02.htm, 25 July, 2003). Knowledge about the Narungga nation can be restored through accounts of early European travellers, settlers and missionaries; through documented interviews between Narungga people and anthropologists from the late 1800s and early 1900s, through stories transmitted through generations, and through the study of the materials left by past generations of Narungga. Before the extinction of the nomadic Narungga life the habits of the tribe were studied by Rev. Julius Wilhelm Kühn and a number of others (T.M. Sutton, Thomas Giles, William Fowler, Edward McEntire, J. Howard Johnson, A.W. Howitt, R.H. Mathews, R.M. Berndt, and T.D. Campbell, cf. Hill 1975: 5-6), who were among the first white scholars to investigate the Narungga language and culture on Narungga land. The first European contact with South Australian Indigenous people was amicable. In the 1840s, Teichelmann and Schürmann believed that studying Indigenous languages would facilitate communication between Aboriginals and Europeans as well as favour positive attitudes and respect towards the capacity of the languages (cf. Teichelmann and Schürmann 1840; cited in Amery 1995: 69). However, these good intentions were soon to be overshadowed by conflict over land causing not only the disintegration of the Narungga culture but also a dramatic decline of its people, which had devastating effects on the traditional Aboriginal society. Wanganeen (cf. 1987: 1) argues that by 1900, the Narungga traditions had been destroyed due to the interference of the Europeans by deliberately mixing different Aboriginal Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga 305 nations in a place on Yorke Peninsula which is now known as Point Pearce. This mixing of different cultural backgrounds is also referred to as the institutionalisation of Aboriginal people (cf. Lesley Wanganeen pers. comm., 11 November, 2003). Point Pearce was a mission set up by the Moravian church in 1868, where the approximately one hundred detribalised Narungga people, who by that time lived on the fringe of mining settlements, were finally institutionalised (cf. Wanganeen 1987: 1). The mission was maintained until it was taken over by the government in 1915, and was then continued as an Aboriginal reserve until 1972. Only then was the management of the reserve finally handed back to its rightful Indigenous residents (accessed at: http: / / www.yorke.sa.gov.au/ history/ indigenous.html, 25 July, 2003). It only took Europeans 50 years to dispossess, depopulate and detribalise the Narungga people, who had lived in harmony with each other and their land for more than forty thousand years (cf. Wanganeen 1987: 1). Due to this institutionalisation, the speed at which the Narungga language was getting lost was devastating, though no precise information about the time scale is available. The various sources used for the reconstruction of the language will be discussed in section 5. At the stage of revitalisation, where Narungga finds itself at present, access to Narungga language material for non-Indigenous individuals is a very sensitive topic. Protocols of dealing with the Narungga language have to be met. Formal requests need to be stated if a linguist wishes to access documents on Narungga. For example, the author’s request to access Moravian documents on Narungga for this study was denied by the NAPA Board. This reluctance of giving access to language material also explains why there are no details on the process of Narungga language revitalisation (e.g. language lessons and language materials) to be found in this study. Even though the author attended various Narungga meetings including one language class, an agreement with NAPA does not permit the author to use any Narungga language material and current data on Narungga. Without the permission to penetrate deeper into the Narungga language project, it was problematic or rather impossible to portray the implementation of language policy in more detail. Therefore, this study unfortunately cannot give information about, for example, speaker numbers at the present time or the progress of Narungga teaching, nor on attitudes towards the Narungga language. However, the Narungga language project nevertheless serves as a good example of how an Indigenous language is struggling for revitalisation and survival in Australia. Understandably, the Narungga people now want to excersise their right to decide on what is best for their language and culture in order to avoid having it ravaged again. The time will come for NAPA when a complete profile of Narungga can be drawn up for non-Narunggas. Besides Narungga, there are many other languages indigenous to South Australia. Like elsewhere in Australia, their use varies greatly: some of them Ulrike Haslinger 306 are regularly used in daily life, some are hardly spoken at all, some appear in singular words only, some are being reclaimed and some are extinct (cf. ATSIC SEC partnership policy paper; for reference see footnote no. 1). Apart from marginalising the Indigenous languages, the most distressing aspect of the European invasion is that Europeans were entirely ignorant of Aboriginal culture (cf. Wanganeen 1987: 21). The fact that European settlement had disastrous effects on Aboriginal cultures has also been acknowledged in the National Policy on Languages: Systematic denigration by non-Aborigines for most of Australia’s European history has led to gross ignorance about Aboriginal languages, some of which are among the most structurally complex languages in the world. In addition, these languages are of indispensable value for expressing the complex human ideas and emotions which the Aboriginal peoples of Australia can and have contributed to the body of human knowledge and thought (Lo Bianco 1987: 75). European invaders underestimated the traumatic effects of their civilisation efforts leaving Aboriginal people with nothing to identify with in the new culture. If the European intention was to do ‘good’ for Aborigines then what they achieved was the exact opposite. Aboriginal Australians were not only alienated from their own culture but by witnessing the violation of their land, their laws and their culture, they remained forever reluctant to adapt to the European ways and at the same time they were led into dependency on European settlements (cf. Wanganeen 1987: 21-22). Unsurprisingly, every single paper among the documents selected for this study recognises and appreciates the linguistic, cultural, social and political benefits of Indigenous language maintenance and revival. Moreover, the significance of Indigenous languages has not only been ascribed to both the individual and collective levels of the Indigenous communities, but also to language diversity on national and international scales. For example, the National Policy on Languages declares that it is a major objective of this policy to stimulate, co-ordinate and initiate significant long and short-term activity to assist in the preservation, continued use and appreciation of and salvage work on Aboriginal languages. […] The role of policy is to determine realistic priorities for intervention and to encourage the growth of Aboriginal pride in and management of resources and programmes in Aboriginal languages. (Lo Bianco 1987: 105) Nevertheless, in comparison to the policy positions, which are generally positive, the reality of Aboriginal languages in Australia is far from satisfactory. Even the most enthusiastic statements of politicians on the importance of linguistic diversity cannot make up for the insufficient support for Indigenous languages. Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga 307 2 Lesley and Michael Wanganeen direct the NAPA language project on Yorke Peninsula, which will be explained in further detail in section (5). 4. Language policy implementation Effective language policy implementation requires more than politically correct language. It is insufficient to have eloquent documents produced by a group of exclusive academics and to have their implementation filtered through the mainstream assumption of what is thought to be best for Indigenous communities and their languages. Language policies must be established in cooperation with Indigenous communities and for Indigenous communities. White and Brands (cf. 1999: 25) emphasise that linguistic support of Indigenous languages must be given in an open-handed way. Indigenous communities must be provided with programmes and strategies which can easily be carried out by Indigenous individuals themselves, i.e. linguists have to step back in order “to allow Indigenous people to take their rightful place directing the debate” (White and Brands 1999: 26; also Cameron et al. 1992 and Wilkins 1992). Taking the rightful place also implies defining the status of a language. In fact, languages which enjoy official status are usually embedded in a healthy ecosystem. However, given that there is no Commonwealth legislation declaring an ‘official status’ of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander languages, the protection and promotion of these languages cannot be guaranteed, although there is a strong call for language legislation especially in South Australia to safeguard language rights and language use (cf. Keep that Language Going 2002: 40; for reference see footnote no. 1). From a legislative point of view, the position of Indigenous Australian languages as locally and globally endangered languages has been strengthened abroad by United Nations (UN) conventions and international laws (cf. Rigney 2002b: 9; for reference see footnote no. 1). According to Lesley and Michael Wanganeen 2 (cf. pers. comm., 11 November, 2003) and Lester- Irabinna Rigney (cf. 2002b: 9), Indigenous languages need to be legally and constitutionally protected in Australia. Only through legislation and constitutional change can Indigenous languages and cultures be stabilised and safeguarded for future generations. In particular, Rigney argues that the State, Territory and local governments have to adopt the recommendations for Indigenous languages that have been made by linguists and Indigenous organisations throughout the country (cf. Rigney 2002: 3). Rigney further suggests “that if these principles are enshrined in legislation, departments and their agencies are mandated in these measures, and are therefore obligated to fulfill their objectives” (Rigney 2002b: 3). In addition, one of the major obstacles in successful language policy implementation is the fact that language policy is generally a short-lived affair Ulrike Haslinger 308 and every new government interprets language policy differently (Peter Mühlhäusler pers. comm., 5 November, 2003). In the case of Indigenous languages, language policy is even more complex because it has to embrace not only language maintenance, but also all stages of language revival and language reclamation to a large extent. Moreover, language revival becomes most difficult when the language has been ‘sleeping’ over a long period of time as it has in the case of Narungga (cf. Amery 2000: 18). The South Australian Government is willing to support the language, but apparently only according to its own conditions. Again, the resources studied in the context of South Australian languages offer exquisite state-of-the-art recommendations for language revival in the state based on the current conditions the languages are in. They have been created by linguistic authorities such as the University of South Australia, Adelaide University, the Department of Education of South Australia, regional and state-level language centres in close cooperation with Indigenous communities in order to document best the languages indigenous to South Australia as well as to develop adequate strategies how to preserve languages most effectively in the long run. The South Australian resource documents also repeatedly recall the fact that it is every individual’s right to speak his/ her mother tongue and have this mother tongue protected and maintained. However, the issue of legality is problematic: despite the Australian Government’s intention to promote Indigenous language revival, Indigenous languages have not been adopted into the Constitution of Australia, which means that the Australian policy papers only have the status of resource documents and that it is left to the government whether it responds to them or not. For successful language maintenance in the long run, the government needs to acknowledge language policy papers as government policy papers (Wallace McKitrick pers. comm., 19 May, 2004). Understanding the concept of the implementation of recommendations is highly complex and is explained by Mr Wallace McKitrick, who used to work for the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission (ATSIC) and has been transferred to the Department of Communication, Information, Technology and the Arts (DCITA) in 2004, as follows: recommendations serve as a resource document, i.e. irrespective of their positive intentions, recommendations are not necessarily implemented. However, recommendations may be implemented according to priorities, funds and staff available. On a more general level, McKitrick puts recommendations into three categories: 1. political and legal recommendations 2. recommendations for an improvement of cooperation between resource bodies 3. procedural recommendations. Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga 309 Firstly, political and legal arrangements have to be developed in order to safeguard Indigenous languages. Secondly, strategies have to be worked out how the different resource bodies (e.g. universities, language centres, schools, etc.) can better work together and finally, procedural recommendations have to be improved. These procedural recommendations, for example, refer to cross-border arrangements. As there is good will to work more effectively, the procedural recommendations can be implemented. Some of the recommendations have been enacted, others have not been implemented at all, but the status of most of them is not clear (Wallace McKitrick pers. comm., 19 May, 2004). Without a legal status of Indigenous languages, the implementation of recommendations becomes even more difficult because the constitutionalisation of language implies the government’s acknowledgment of taking full responsibility for the Indigenous linguistic and cultural heritage. This means that if the government takes full responsibility, it has to respond to resource documents in order to provide best opportunities for language revival and language maintenance in the long run. 5. Language maintenance in South Australia: the Narungga language Each state government of Australia deals with linguistic issues such as language maintenance or language protection in its own way. The Narungga Language Reclamation Project of Yorke Peninsula has been chosen to give an insight into the complexities of language policy and its implementation in South Australia. The project was launched by the Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association Inc. (NAPA) on November 30, 2001, on NAPA’s own initiative. The idea of Narungga reclamation is largely based on the 1980s reclamation movement. Back in the 1980s, Narungga was formally taught to children at Point Pearce School. The Narungga Community College began collecting historical material during 1982 for the National Aborigines Week. It was only then that Narungga people started to explore the wealth of historical material around them and a concern for their children growing up without Narungga history emerged. With this concern in mind, written, oral and photographic material was made accessible for use in the language community and its schools. Oral histories were particularly treasured because they were regarded as first-hand historical records. In their attempts to learn more about their linguistic and cultural heritage, Narungga people now consult the archival documentation produced by missionaries in the past. Hence, Narungga people have begun to access archives with great success as the Narungga language project shows. In fact, Narungga people have become very committed to search for Narungga material especially when they found Ulrike Haslinger 310 3 (1) Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association (Compilers) (In press: 2006). Nharangga Warra: Narungga dictionary, Wakefield Press: Adelaide. (2) Wanganeen, Tania, and Christina Eira (In press: 2006). The fragments of Budderer’s waddy: A new Narungga grammar Vol.1 Community and school resource. Wakefield Press: Adelaide. 4 Tindale used spelling according to the rules of the Geographical Society of London, known as Geographic II. The system of Geographic II was officially used by cartographers in the spelling of native place names (cf. Tindale 1936: 60-70) out that much more language material was available than initially believed. Narungga people have gone on a journey, as Lesley Wanganeen (pers. comm., 11 November, 2003) puts it, in order to gain knowledge about linguistic and cultural heritage. As explained by Lesley Wanganeen, for a long time speaking Narungga only meant the use of single, isolated words, i.e. Narungga words were interspersed while speaking English. However, NAPA’s vision goes beyond singular word usage. The project aims at an independent use of Narungga, i.e. speeches, stories, conversations and written language should be achieved in Narungga at some stage in the future. The project is successfully managed by Lesley Wanganeen, who wants to make the language accessible to all Narungga people and their descendants. Hence, Lesley Wanganeen is striving to provide resources whereby children can claim their language heritage. Furthermore, the NAPA project is comprised of a number of key Narungga people as well as some non-Narungga people. The latter do not have voting rights but they are nevertheless of significance. The non- Narungga linguist working with NAPA is Dr Christina Eira. The NAPA project was intermittently funded for nearly two years through Yaitya Warra Wodli Language Centre and through a base office which was provided by the Aboriginal Research Institute at the University of South Australia. During this first period, the project conducted a comprehensive search for data on the Narungga language. For example, Narungga Elders were consulted and museums and libraries across Australia were inspected. An analysis of the materials found will be published in the forthcoming grammar and dictionary written by Christina Eira 3 in cooperation with NAPA. The original wordlist 4 produced by Louisa Egginton and Norman B. Tindale incorporates idiomatic phrases and grammatical particles attached to them. However, there are many sources for the Narungga language. Apart from Egginton/ Tindale, Newchurch/ Black serve as the main source for phrases (Christina Eira pers. comm., 19 June, 2006). The careful analysis of the materials will restore more grammatical knowledge than previously thought possible. Thus, grammatical gaps can be filled to a certain extent as unfortunately the Narungga language has largely been left unrecorded (accessed at: http: / / www.fatsil.org/ LOTM/ mar02.htm, 25 July, 2003). Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga 311 In terms of internal linguistic work, the NAPA people have been doing incredibly well. However, the prospects of continuous Narungga reclamation are seriously endangered in other areas. The five main problems that hinder Narungga language revival are: • the abolition of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission • lack of funding (e.g. language documentation, production of teaching materials, linguistic training of Aboriginal people, etc.) • scarcity of advice/ expertise • the education system and • the deprivation of ownership. These five points will be explained in more detail in the subsequent sections. 6. The abolition of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission (ATSIC) With the abolition of ATSIC, the direct contact between Aboriginal communities and the governments of Australia has been cut off, because ATSIC operated as a mediator between the Indigenous communities and the governments. Aboriginal people now fear that the attitudes towards the status of Indigenous languages will decline since ATSIC was officially recognised by the Australian public as an institution for Indigenous affairs (Lesley Wanganeen pers. comm., 11 November, 2003). This, of course, will have detrimental effects on the revitalising process of Narungga. In the past, Aboriginal communities could directly address themselves to ATSIC. Hence, the organisation served as a platform for Aboriginal matters, and elected representatives communicated all urgent matters on behalf of the Indigenous communities to the Australian Government. This interface between Aboriginal people and the government through their elected representatives has certainly vanished with ATSIC, and various departments have now taken over the responsibility for Aboriginal matters. These are usually departments which are inexperienced in dealing with Aboriginal affairs. Until these departments have come to terms with their new responsibilities for the Aboriginal communities, precious time will be lost in which linguistic activities for Indigenous languages could be fostered. More importantly, “these departments never will be ‘representatives’ of the communities as ATSIC was set up to be” (Christina Eira pers. comm., 19 June, 2006). The strategies of these departments how to deal with Aboriginal affairs should be the subject of further study in the field of Indigenous language revival in Australia. Ulrike Haslinger 312 In response to the abolition of ATSIC, the South Australian Indigenous Languages Policy Council (SAILPC) has been founded. This SAILPC has been recommended both by the KLG Report and in the SA Government paper Actions from the inter-agency meeting held 25 February 2004 to discuss cooperative support of Indigenous languages in SA (hereafter as Actions 2004) and is supposed to have a great impact on the maintenance of Indigenous languages. Its four main fields of activity are: • research • policy development, language planning, and advocating legislation • supporting community planning and community based-projects • interpreter services across the public sector (Actions 2004: 2; for reference see footnote no. 1). However, as pointed out by Guy Tunstill, Policy and Program Officer for Aboriginal Languages at the South Australian Department of Education and Children’s Services, “it is early days yet […]. And so, we muddle on as Aboriginal languages continue to die…” (Guy Tunstill pers. comm., 10 August, 2004). There is no doubt that the demise of ATSIC will have serious impact on the development and future prospects of Indigenous languages in Australia. On the other hand, there are the linguists from the tertiary sector, e.g. Rob Amery, Peter Mühlhäusler and also Guy Tunstill, who were not satisfied with the lack of cooperation between ATSIC and the tertiary research. 7. Funding Indigenous language projects Language revitalisation on a larger scale is not possible without funding. Thus, funding policy for Indigenous language revitalisation programmes needs to be re-organised. Funds can be granted based on language prioritisation. However, in terms of saving languages, prioritisation should be reversed: more money should be given to language communities whose languages are in immediate danger of dying because of the lack of language documentation and/ or language activities. If the largest sum of grants continues to go to the strongest language communities, chances are that weaker language groups will gradually disappear. It is, however, legitimate that the Australian Government wishes to monitor the distribution of public money. The allocation of public grants implies that the public wants to know what the money has been used for. Supporting Indigenous language heritage is not a “waste of tax payers’ money”, but records should be kept to follow the development of Indigenous language programmes. For example, the development Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga 313 of language programmes could be monitored by language centres. If, as in the case of the Narungga project, Aboriginal communities wish to seek linguistic advice on their revitalisation programmes, organisations should be established and made accessible in order to provide linguistic expertise in every Australian state. Those language centres would not only provide adequate support but also help raising the status of the (reviving) languages. However, the NAPA group was not satisfied with the help provided by Yaitya Warra Wodli language centre, which explains why NAPA sought assistance from an external linguist (Lesley Wanganeen pers. comm., 11 November, 2003). 8. The education system in Australia The impact of colonial education systems on Indigenous ones - under which the Australian education system falls - has been criticised by Baldauf and Luke (cf. 1990: foreword) not only for imposing colonial ideology and exogenous languages but also for creating an élite among Indigenous social and economic structures which emerged from the different levels of oracy and literacy in the new colonial languages; in addition, they argue that the need for language policies has been driven by tourism, trade relations, scientific knowledge and expertise. Therefore, the Australian education system needs to become more open to other ways of learning, i.e. NAPA explicitly says that it does not want to follow the English model of education for the simple reason that it does not conform to the Aboriginal perception of schooling. Thus, Aboriginal parents do not want their children to be put into a curriculum which is not only foreign to them but which also alienates them from their linguistic heritage rather than encouraging Indigenous language revival with all its accompanying effects. However, in the context of schooling, a compromise needs to be found. Like children of other cultural backgrounds, Aboriginal children should have the option of doing extra curriculum activities in Aboriginal languages if they wish to maintain their community languages. Children should be encouraged to participate in those language activities by promoting positive attitudes towards Aboriginality and Aboriginal languages. What the Australian education does need to understand is the wish of Aboriginal communities to have their own Aboriginal teachers respected and employed in Aboriginal language matters even though they do not necessarily conform to the Australian perception of formal teachers. In essence, it is Aboriginal language speakers who can best teach their own languages. However, this is slightly problematic in the case of language revitalisation if there are no fluent speakers. In this context, the NAPA approach to language reclamation and revitalisation gives insight into how Indigenous people wish to conduct the Ulrike Haslinger 314 teaching of Aboriginal languages: although none of the NAPA project staff members currently speaks Narugga fluently, and even though the linguist working for NAPA is non-Indigenous, it is always the individuals of Indigenous heritage who make the decisions on language matters and finalise the outcomes of the project. This approach reveals that people of Narungga heritage, who are largely represented by NAPA, wish to remain the proprietors of the Narungga language on all levels. They wish to revive the language among themselves and they wish to pass on the language according to what they have agreed upon together. This exclusiveness fills Indigenous people with pride and enables them to enjoy and appreciate their Indigenous heritage (cf. Lesley Wanganeen pers. comm., 11 November, 2003). Narungga people, at least those involved in the NAPA project, are very proud of their Narungga heritage and this pride should be fostered through all channels available. The importance of ownership of language for Aboriginal people will be explained in the next section. 9. The ownership of language The ownership of a language must in any case remain with its speakers, because it is only the speakers who should possess the authority to decide on how the traditions and protocols of the language are exercised (Lesley and Michael Wanganeen pers. comm., 11 November, 2003; this view is also held by Christina Eira, Lester-Irabinner Rigney and Tauto Sansbury; cf. Haslinger 2005: 121-125). Until the new funding scheme of 2004, the ownership of Narungga was in the hands of the NAPA group. However, since NAPA has signed the revised funding policy for 2004, the organisation has agreed to ascribe copyright laws of language products such as books and resources to the South Australian Government. Handing over ownership of language material produced with South Australian governmental grants was the condition for continuous funding for the Narungga language. Now the South Australian Government is not only in the position to control and assess the Narungga language development, but it is also entitled to use Narungga language materials for various purposes. Again, Aboriginal people fear that through the loss of ownership the revitalising process will not be as effective as desired and language material might be used for inappropriate purposes (Lesley Wanganeen pers. comm., 11 November, 2003). This funding policy is certainly incompatible with the Aboriginal perception of language possession, i.e. that language must not leave the land. It would also be an interesting topic for further study, to explore the impact of the shift in ownership for the development of the Narungga language. In essence, Lesley Wanganeen feels that the success of Narungga revitalisation is entirely in the hands of NAPA, whose staff members all Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga 315 started the project as linguistic amateurs by Western linguistic standards. However, NAPA has become like an “island for Narungga language and culture”, as Wanganeen puts it. As experience has shown, it will be only due to the thriving efforts of NAPA that Narungga will continue to develop in the long run. 10. Factors conducive to a positive language policy Now which factors are conducive to positive language policy for Indigenous languages? In this context, Phillipson (2003: 68; see also Ozolins 1993, Lo Bianco/ Freebody 1997, KLG Report 2002) argues that language policy is the result of “a coming together of key constituencies in the political, commercial, and minority and Indigenous rights worlds”, and furthermore, the Australian language policy is based on four guiding principles: • Enrichment (cultural and intellectual) • Economics (foreign trade and vocations) • Equality (social justice and overcoming disadvantages) • External (Australia’s role in the region and the world) However, these four principles have to be taken with caution in the case of Narungga. In fact, a language in a position as unfortunate as that of Narungga is affected only partially by these so-called four E’s. By dwelling on Phillipson’s parameters, Narungga has to be given full credit for cultural and intellectual enrichment. For example, NAPA found out that much more of the language had been documented than was initially believed, with the result that two Narungga grammar books and two Narungga dictionaries were produced. These resource books do not only enrich the field of linguistics by giving insight into the system of the Narungga language, but they also contribute significantly to re-animating Narungga traditions such as songs, poems and folktales, as they allow Narungga to be learned again. Thus, the newly gained knowledge about Narungga enhances the revival by ascribing cultural and intellectual value to the language as well as giving Narungga individuals a tool for expressing their Narungga identity and heritage. As far as the economic and external principles are concerned, however, Narungga plays an insignificant, if not non-existing, role. Speaker numbers are hard to grasp given that ‘fluent speakers’ are no longer available. It is a fact that Narungga speakers at one stage occupied Yorke Peninsula solely and entirely. As argued by Christina Eira (pers. comm., 12. March, 2005) the statistics of Narungga people from Point Pearce mission in the 1860s do not appear to be a reliable source because this is not by any means the number Ulrike Haslinger 316 of Narungga people/ speakers. In her opinion, speaker numbers remain a guessing game. How can a language with no fluent speakers contribute to the Australian economy? Apart from the domain of tourism, the revival of Narungga is not lucrative at present. Tourists can ‘walk the country’ with Narungga guides, who give a demonstration of the life and traditions of Narungga people on their land, but other than that it is only of interest for a handful of people involved in the NAPA language project and a number of area schools, where school children are engaged in learning Narungga, which leads to the principle of Equality: according to the Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights (for reference see footnote No. 1), every individual has the right to use his/ her heritage language in education. 11. Future prospects The fear of a deterioration of the status of Indigenous languages is great on the Aboriginal side, but there is also hope that the Australian Government will pay its due respect to First Nation Australians by granting correct treatment to Indigenous languages. The Australian Government must realise that it is lagging far behind other nation-states which have acknowledged their Indigenous languages in legislative terms (e.g. see the constitutions of New Zealand, South Africa, and Canada). The question remains what prevents Australia from finally following these examples, especially because the legal recognition of Indigenous languages is regarded as a milestone in the reconciliation process in Australia. There is no doubt that without language policy there is no constitutionalisation. However, language policy is not only a catalogue of recommendations that are implemented (or not) according to the government’s goodwill or availability of funds. It is rather an entity that covers a vast number of different agents and levels - from the little Aboriginal boy at an Aboriginal primary school to the Federal Government of Australia, and the vitality of language policy is very much dependent on the participation of these agents. It is, however, impossible to please all these participants. It is also impossible to make past injustices undone. Thus, for a vital language policy the Australian Government and Indigenous people have to meet halfway. However, Wallace McKitrick argues that the policy environment for Indigenous languages as of August, 2004, is unpredictable in the next few years. Without a doubt it is too early to make predictions for the development of Aboriginal languages in the next few years since enough data is not yet available. According to information obtained by McKitrick, the Australian Government builds on stronger partnerships of all parties involved in the preservation of Indigenous languages, but cooperation among the various key agents con- Language policy issues involved in the reclamation of Narungga 317 cerning Indigenous language maintenance is still lacking. A more cost-effective operation of maintenance programmes does not necessarily have to curtail the quality of projects. On the contrary, the restructuring of funding and organisation can mark the beginning of a more effective approach to Indigenous language preservation. References: 1. Bibliography Amery, Rob (2000). Warrabarna Kaurna! Reclaiming an Australian Language. Lisse: Swets & Zeitlinger. Amery, Rob (1986). “Languages in Contact: The Case of Kintore and Papunya (with Particular Reference to the Health Domain)”. Language in Aboriginal Australia 1. 13-38. Amery, Rob (1995). “It’s ours to keep and call our own: reclamation of Nunga languages in the Adelaide region, South Australia”. International Journal of the Sociology of Language 113. 63-82. Baldauf, R. / B. Luke (eds.) (1990). Language Planning and Education in Australasia and the South Pacific. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Black, Paul (1993). “New Uses for Old Languages”. In: Walsh and Yallop, (eds.) (1993). 207-223. Cameron, D. / E. Frazer et al. (1992). Researching language: Issues of power and method. London: Routledge. Dixon, R.M.W. (1980). The Language of Australia. Cambridge: CUP. Fishman, J.A. (2001b). “Why is it so Hard to Save a Threatened Language? (A Perspective on the Cases that Follow)”. In: Fishman (ed.) (2001). Can Threatened Languages Be Saves? Reversing Language Shift, Revisited - A 21 st Century Perspective. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. 1-22. Haslinger, Ulrike (2005). Language Policy and its Impact on the Maintenance and Loss of Indigenous Languages in Australia: A Study of the Narungga Language of Yorke Peninsula, South Australia. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Graz. Hill, D.L. / S.J. Hill (1975). Notes on the Narangga Tribe of Yorke Peninsula. Adelaide: Lutheran Publishing House. House of Representatives Standing Committee on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Affairs (1992). Language and Culture - A Matter of Survival. Report of the Inquiry into Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Language Maintenance, Canberra: Australian Government Publishing Service. Lo Bianco, Joseph (1987). National Policy on Languages. Canberra: Australian Government Publishing Service. Lo Bianco, Joseph / Peter Freebody (1997). Australian literacies: informing national policy on literacy education. Belconnen, ACT: Language Australia. Mühlhäusler, Peter et al. (edited draft 2002). Ecological issues in language revival (D RAFT ). South Australian Department of Education and Employment (DETE) in association with The University of Adelaide, Canberra: Australian Government Publishing Service. Published in: Department of Education and Children’s Services (2003). South Australian Curriculum, Standards and Accountability Framework. Languages. Australian Indigenous Languages. The State of South Australia, Adelaide: Hype Park Press. Ulrike Haslinger 318 Ozolins, Uldis (1993). The Politics of Language in Australia. Cambridge: CUP. Phillipson, Robert (2003). English-Only Europe? Challenging Language Policy. London: Routledge. Rigney, Lester-Irabinna, (2002). “Re-imagining a Reconciled Australia: The Catastrophe before Us in Stabilising Indigenous Languages”. Key Note address at the ‘Sharing the Space Conference’ in July 2002, at Flinders University, Adelaide, Australia. Schmidt, Annette (1990). The Loss of Australia’s Aboriginal Language Heritage. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press. Tindale, Norman B. and Lindsay, H.A. (1936). Aboriginal Australians. Brisbane, Melbourne: Jacaranda Press. Walsh, Michael (1993). “Languages and their status in Aboriginal Australia”. In: Walsh/ Yallop (eds.) (1993). 1-13. Walsh, Michael and Yallop, Colin (eds.) (1993). Languages and Culture in Aboriginal Australia. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press. Wangeneen, Eileen (1987). Point Pearce: Past and present. Researched by Narungga Community College, Adelaide: Aboriginal Studies and Teacher Education Centre, SACAE. Wanganeen, Tania and Christina Eira (2006; in press). Nharangga Warra: Narungga Diuctionary. Adelaide: Wakefield Press. White, Ely / Jenny Brands (1999). An ecology of relationship: language, understanding and education. Produced by Curriculum and Research Unit, Batchelor Institute of Indigenous Tertiary Education. Wilkins, David (1992). “Linguistic research under Aboriginal control: a personal account of fieldwork in central Australia”. Australian Journal of Linguistics 12: 1. 171-200. 2. Webliography Ball (1993). www.nlconference.org/ docs/ LoBianco_paper.doc [accessed 14 April, 2006]. District Council of Yorke Peninsula (n.d.). http: / / www.yorke.sa.gov.au/ history/ indigenous. html [accessed 25 July, 2003]. Federation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Languages (FATSIL) (n.d.). http: / / www.fatsil.org/ LOTM/ mar02.htm [accessed 25 July, 2003]. I would like to thank the following for valuable information on specific points: Christina Eira, Wallace McKitrick, Peter Mühlhäusler, Lester-Irabinna Rigney, Guy Tunstill, Tauto Sansbury, Lesley and Michael Wanganeen. Ulrike Haslinger Salzburg College Salzburg AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen From Descriptive to (Meta)-Metafictional Form and Meaning in David Foster Wallace’s Short Fiction Jaroslav Kušnír Descriptive passages in literary works have traditionally evoked the idea of the mimetic representation of reality on which traditional realistic literature was based. It is especially postmodern metafictional literature, however, which - through the use of metafictional narrative strategies including complicated allusions, false quotations, parody and irony - has undermined the idea of a clear and unproblematic relationship between language and the reality it represents. One of the aims of these narratives is to show the difference between language and reality and between different ontological systems. These relationships are further complicated by some of the authors loosely known as post-scientific authors, crack-pot realists, or meta-metafictional authors (Richard Powers, David Foster Wallace, and to a limited extent Jonathan Franzen), who construct their vision of the world by the use of knowledge from various sciences, which form a symbolic framework for their construction of meaning (biology, computer science, mathematics, physics), as well as by the use of references to already metafictional works (that is to say, already undermining passages in the works of the earlier generation of postmodern authors such as John Barth, Thomas Pynchon or William Gaddis). In this way they become, as some authors suggest, metametafictional. Descriptive passages from these authors’ works often evoke an illusion of mimetic representation of reality, its comprehension, however, depends on the understanding of a complex referential chain which is used for creating meaning. In my paper I analyze several short stories, mostly from David Foster Wallace’s short story collection Oblivion, to show - how Wallace’s use of narrative strategies undermines the realistic and complicates the metafictional frames of reference; - what the role of these elements is in the production of meaning; and - how the alteration of a descriptive form/ passage in Wallace’s short fiction creates an alternative ontological level or vision of the world, and presents a critique of traditional and metafictional representations of reality Jaroslav Kušnír 320 1 See Wallace, D.F. (1998). A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again: Essays & Ruminations. Boston: Little Brown & Co. Descriptive passages in fiction have mostly been understood as expressions of the mimetic and rather realistic nature of a literary work. Since the credibility of traditional realistic narrative and its ability to give a clear and objective picture of reality has been systematically undermined since the late 19th century by modernist, and later by postmodernist and other contemporary authors, these descriptive passages, realistic narrative methods, and the associated vision of the world have become understood as an unreliable, artificial, and “exhausted” (Barth 1967) means of the representation of reality. Even the most experimental authors, however, often use descriptive passages which are further juxtaposed and contested by other, rather fragmentary, psychological (interior monologue, stream of consciousness) and selfreflexive passages in order to both relativize the meaning, the traditional (and rational, seemingly logical) realistic vision of the world and the binary oppositions presented in traditional realistic narratives. The authors of these works also try to subvert the idea of a clear, uncomplicated and natural relationship between form and meaning. Many - not only American - postmodern authors create complex narratives with several ontological levels including descriptive passages reminiscent of realistic narrative techniques, but these passages form only one pole and one site out of which other ontological levels and layers of meaning are developed. However apparently realistic and trustworthy, because of their complicated and often unreliable narrative voices and other narrative techniques, these descriptive passages become only a textual space out of which other versions of reality, ontological levels and meanings are derived. By the use of fragmentation, self-reflexivity, intertextuality, parody, mixture of genres and other narrative strategies, postmodern literature often attacks realistic visions of the world and implies a relativity and multiplicity of the universe and the complexity of the human perception of it. David Foster Wallace’s short stories and novels complicate both the traditional (realistic), subjective psychological (modernist) and the postmodernist visions of the world even more by transgressing the space between realistic, postmodern and what perhaps can be labeled postpostmodern narrative poles. Descriptive passages in his works evoke the idea of mimeticism and objectivity, only to be severely subjectivized by a psychological narrative further undermined by fragmentation, digressions and metacommentaries, ultimately both returning to and eventually abandoning the idea of mimeticism. Quite paradoxically then, these descriptive passages have a controversial function, first evocating traditional mimeticism and then undermining it, to be understood as a resistance against what Wallace has called the commercialization and exhaustion of literature and narrative techniques of postmodernism. 1 From Descriptive to (Meta)-Metafictional 321 In the short stories from his collection Oblivion, David Foster Wallace does not make any considerable artistic or stylistic progress, if this book is compared with his previous novel Infinite Jest, The Broom of the System, or with his short stories and novellas such as “Westward the Course Empire Takes it Away”, and short story collections such as Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, or Girl With Curious Hair. He continues with his interest in such themes as the commercialization of people’s lives and language, the (in)ability of language to communicate truth about outer experience, the relationship between language, philosophy and science, psychology of human beings, frustration of living in various kinds of partnership, and various kinds of violence. Marie Mudaca adds other themes she considers prominent in this collection. In her review of this book she suggests themes such as “horror, detachment, and the inability to describe human experiences with mere words” (Mundaca 2004: online). These themes indicate the author’s interest in modernist epistemology (Mc Hale 1987: 9), postmodernist and post-structuralist issues and ontology. In the short stories from his collection Oblivion, for instance “Incarnations of Burned Children”, “Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature”, “The Soul is not a Smithy” or “Good Old Neon”, Wallace uses descriptive passages to both establish, develop, further transform and finally undermine the narrative credibility of mimeticism and traditional realistic writing. What is interesting about Wallace’s style is that lengthy descriptive passages, especially those describing events and feelings, become the very means through which they undermine their own mimeticism and persuasion of the vision of the world as conveyed through the mimetic narrative strategies they themselves had established before. The linear narrative and description of the event passes into a description of a feeling (as in “Incarnations of Burned Children”, “Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature”), which further converges into a narrative in which objectivity and subjectivity, outer observation and inner feelings merge with the imagination (“The Soul is not a Smithy”), create a metacommentary on the process of creation of reality through language and on the relationship between mind, language, and physical reality. In “Incarnations of Burned Children”, Wallace also gives a meticulous description of the event, an incident in which parents see their child scalded to death, narrated from a traditional omniscient narrator’s perspective now: The Daddy was around the side of the house hanging a door for the tenant when he heard the child’s screams and the Mommy’s voice gone high between them. He could move fast, and the back porch gave onto the kitchen, and before the screen door had banged shut behind him the Daddy had taken the scene in whole, the overturned pot on the floortile before the stove and the burner’s blue jet and the floor’s pool of water still steaming as its many arms extended, the toddler in his baggy diaper standing rigid with steam coming off his hair and his chest and shoulders scarlet and his eyes rolled up and mouth Jaroslav Kušnír 322 open very wide and seeming somehow separate from the sounds that issued, the Mommy down on one knee with dishrag dabbing pointlessly at him and matching the screams with cries of her own, hysterical so she was almost frozen. (Wallace 2004: 114) This close observation of the incident continues further with a close longsentence description of the following actions in the parents’ attempt to save the child from scalding. As can be seen from the example, the descriptive sentences evoke a realistic atmosphere of frustration, but their length points out the process of perception of the event and its reconstruction in the human mind which is loosely reminiscent of a flow of ideas, or an interior monologue. Thus narrative objectivity turns into narrative subjectivity through the interiorization of the event and is further dramatized by the close description of the action and frustration: […] their baby’s diaper burned their hand and they saw where the real water’d fallen and pooled and been burning their baby boy all this time while he screamed for them to help him and they hadn’t […] (116). Dramatic and seemingly linear and realistic narrative conveyed through these descriptive passages is suddenly, just before the end of this short story, interrupted by the narrator addressing the reader: If you’ve never wept and want to, have a child. Break your heart inside and something will a child is the twangy song the Daddy hears again […] (116) This ironic and sarcastic comment subjectivizes and psychologizes the seemingly objective and linear description of events and relativizes the seriousness of the representation of objective reality to point out the nature of suffering and frustration, which is finally further ironized, thus creating another level of meaning which abandons the mere realistic and objective record of the incident. In the process of his narration, the narrator continues in describing the parents’ attempt to save the child, and says that […] the child had learned to leave himself and watch the whole rest unfold from a point overhead, and whatever was lost never thenceforth mattered, and the child’s body expanded and walked about and drew pay and lived its life untenanted, a thing among things, its self’s soul so much vapor aloft, falling as rain and then rising, the sun up and down like a yoyo. (116) This last passage enriches the stylistic hybridity of Wallace’s narrative, through which the story acquires another dimension and level of meaning. The child’s death does not produce a narrative and realistic closure, but is further extended into lyrical, fantastic and poetic mood, which relativizes both the understanding of death as finality, description of the event for description’s sake, and opens up another level of meaning which is the relationship between the physical, material (body) and abstract (soul, death, language), and perhaps a necessary separation between the materiality of human From Descriptive to (Meta)-Metafictional 323 existence and the soul as an abstract phenomenon having a different ontological status. Thus, in this short story, descriptive passages, despite dominating the whole text, are gradually modified into a subjective rendering of experience and, finally, by abandoning their role of traditional (mimetic) bearer of meaning and creating another level of meaning, they undermine the expected role of the dominant descriptive narrative. A similar, although much more complicated use of descriptive passages and narrative strategies can be seen in Wallace’s short story “The Soul is not a Smithy” from the same collection. In this short story Wallace is interested in the human mind, its perception of reality, and the (in)ability of language to convey human experience. The story is narrated from the perspective of a young boy who tries to give a detailed description of a past traumatic incident from his childhood, and this is connected with a substitute teacher of civics who suffered a nervous breakdown during a lesson. As the narrator says, This is the story of how Frank Caldwell, Chris DeMatteis, Mandy Blemm, and I became, in the city newspaper’s words, the 4 Unwitting Hostages, and of how our strange and special alliance and the trauma surrounding its origin bore on our subsequent lives and careers as adults later on.(Wallace 2004: 66) A close desription of the event evoking a mimetic and realistic imitation of reality continues with the narrator’s further description of his classmates, political situation, and the classroom: The Civics classroom at R.B. Hayes consisted of six rows of five desks each. The desks and chairs were bolted securely to each other and to the floor and had hinged, liftable desktops, just as all primary classroom’s desks tended to in that era before backpacks and bookbags. Inside your assigned desk was where you stored your No. 2 pencils, theme paper, paste, and other essentials of primary school education. (68) The detailed description of the situation, people, places and the incident evokes a realistic quality of the presented event and a strong realistic effect, as well as the belief in the capacity of language to convey human experience objectively. This convincingness and realistic narrative becomes, however, doubtful further on in the story, when the narrator admits that my real attention directed peripherally at the fields and street outside, which the window mesh’s calibration divided into discrete squares that appeared to look like the rows of panels comprising cartoon strips, filmic storyboards, Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Comics, and the like […] it led my attention not merely to wonder idly, but to actively construct whole linear, discretely organized narrative fantasies, many of which unfolded in considerable detail […] anything in any way remarkable in the view outside […] a city bus flowing stolidly from right to left through the lower three the lowest three horizontal columns of squares - became the impetus for privately imagined films’ or Jaroslav Kušnír 324 cartoons’ storyboards, in which each remaining square of the window’s wire mesh could be used to continue and deepen the panels’ narrative - the ordinary looking C.P.T. bus in reality commandeered by Batman’s thenarchnemesis, the Red Commando, and my terrified older brother and his piano teacher […]. (71-72) As can be seen from the above extract, the narrator - then a 9 year-old boy - admits he has created parallel worlds constructed from reality but working on a principle of linearity and thus accepted, in the child’s mind, as real and conveyed in the realistic narrative, as part of his inner experience including the reflection of the outer world in his mind (classroom, parents, school), the parallel world constructed from reality perceived through the window and reminiscent of a cartoon’s linearity, and then the other metaworld as represented by the story, cartoon, fairy tale and film characters appearing in this meta-world (Batman, Robin, etc.). This is a world and “reality” which becomes complex, multilayered but modelled after the real, physical yet also multilayered reality. All these worlds become part of the narrator’s inner experience, influencing his vision of the world and both complicating and problematizing the credibility of his narrative and realistic vision of the world itself, however realistically it appears to the reader. In contrast to other authors of his generation, the close description of these parallel worlds in Wallace’s short story evokes the convincingness of subjective and imaginary experience of his characters. The narrator also admits that he was daydreaming (p. 72), that he is probably a dyslectic child, and that “These imagined constructions, which often took up the entire window, were difficult and concentrated work” (72). Thus the alternative world the narrator creates represents a replacement of physical reality by a constructed combination of the stimuli from various sources (reality, popular fiction, film) which is also a replacement of the process of reading and writing as a way of transferring physical reality to human consciousness through language. It seems thus that Wallace is interested in the process of the construction of the mental image of the world in the absence of a written language that at the same is time being used, for which he does not only apply the metaphor of a dyslectic and daydreaming child, but also the image of language and parallel stories. Through stylistic mastery, with unexpected and often unnoticed narrative turns, Wallace’s protagonist develops parallel, often comic, but also horrific, violent stories reminiscent of cartoon strips and comics (p. 2) in which the realistic (narrator’s family and classmates) acquire these genres’ qualities. They are not juxtaposed to, but merge with the realistic narrative, with characters and situations modeled after both reality and meta-reality, as can be seen from the following example, in which a description of fact (narrator classmate’s mother) and situation (classroom) merge with the story he had constructed about them: From Descriptive to (Meta)-Metafictional 325 2 The term used in Harshaw (Hrushovski’s) understanding, and it refers to the real, physical world, see bibliography. Then we see Ruth Simmon’s mother - whom we have already seen take several pills throughout the day from a small brown prescription bottle in her handbag, by way of another upper row’s backstory - […] Just which specific aspects of the U.S. Bill of Rights were being covered by Mr. Johnson while this story of Ruth Simmons and her lost Cuffie filled in panel after panel of the window I cannot say […]. (80) It then seems that the imagined world works and functions as real, trustworthy and present, and that both imagination and fantasy change their roles in a recursive cycle of unfolding narrative of mind rather than through the act of direct storytelling. A person from the actual world 2 , Ruth Simmon’s mother represented in a realistic narrative frame, becomes a part of the window narrative which the boy further develops but, at the same time, she becomes part of the realistic world since she is presented in detail and as fully functioning within it. On the other hand, to come back to the role of language, both the abstract phenomena, language and characters, invade the realistic (actual, physical) world; they become an indistinguishable part of it, and are often associated with the imagery of death. The Civics teacher’s writing on the blackboard and trying to explain a modified version of part of the Constitution to the children has the same powerful effect as reality itself. This can be seen in the following example: In the midst of writing on the chalkboard, illustrating that the phrase due process of law appears identically in both the V th and XIV th Amendments, Mr. Richard Allen Johnson inadvertently inserted something else in the phrase as well - the capital word KILL. Ellen […] discovered that they had written due process KILL of law (86) […] Richard A. Johnson writing on the chalkboard, ostensibly about the XIII th Amendment’s abolition of Negro slavery, except instead it turned out that he was really writing KILL THEM KILL THEM ALL over and over again […]. (91) The children’s horror stemming from the teacher’s gradual running amok and obsession with death is juxtaposed to a similar horror scene the narrator creates in his panel window scene as part of another story he has constructed. Thus what Wallace seems to imply is that the power of language and imagination as represented by the above parallel narratives achieves equality with real, physical reality. Language is not only a source of manipulative power in a Foucauldian sense, but also, in a post-structuralist sense, an important medium of the construction of reality, able to evoke the same effects as the phenomena from the real world. The ontological levels of physical reality, daydreaming, “narrative tableaux” further merge with dreams, nightmares and meta-commentaries on them and various other Jaroslav Kušnír 326 subjects, as well as with the juxtaposition of the real world and its imitation (statues, papier-mâché models). The narrator comments on his perception of reality and says that the thoughts themselves are replaced by images and concrete pictures and scenes. You move, gradually, from merely thinking about something to experiencing it as really there, unfolding, a story or world you are part of. (107) He thus becomes entrapped in “the prisonhouse of language” (Jameson, 1974) of many realities and admits that he “HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS GOING ON” (80) and that he “was absent in both mind and spirit” (80). At the same time, as suggested above, all “realities” as represented by the various ontological levels in this short story form an inseparable whole suggesting both the power and unreliability of language to create an entirely objective, clear and exact image of reality. The meaning of descriptive passages in Wallace’s short story is subverted by another kind of description serving as a weapon against mimeticism, which invokes the idea of an unproblematic connection between language and reality. In addition, Wallace’s descriptive passages are also descriptions of the process of formation of the mental image of reality in the human mind conveyed through language, showing not only the funny, but also the manipulative impact of various kinds of popular culture (films, comics, cartoons) and metarealities (dreams, nightmares, various forms of mass literature and culture) on human consciousness. Wallace thus presents a critique of linearity understood as a process operating differently from that of the human mind and its perception of reality. The narrator claims that for it is true that the most vivid and enduring occurrences in our lives are often those that occur at the periphery of our awareness […]. We often can remember the details and subjective associations far more vividly than the event itself. (97) The human mind is thus understood as not always being a reliable mediator of the complexity of reality, and the narrator’s comments allude to the notion of free association of ideas and randomness rather than chronology in the transfer of data from the outside world to the human mind. All these themes, the mixture of dream and reality, fact and fiction, metafictional elements, selfreflexive metacommentaries as well as Wallace’s treatment of the relationship between outer reality, language and the human mind contribute to the postmodern character of the story. While in his short story “Incarnations” descriptive passages dominate and are further transformed into a lyrical mood evoking the author’s interest in modernist issues such as the psychology of human consciousness and human experience, in “The Soul is not a Smithy” Wallace transforms descriptive passages into postmodern narrative, and in “Good Old Neon” he further complicates the interaction of realistic, modernist and postmodernist visions of the world. Descriptive passages and From Descriptive to (Meta)-Metafictional 327 3 See Rother below. linearity pass into subjective description of human consciousness, to be further undermined by fragmentariness and metacommentaries evoking a postmodernist effect which represents, to a certain degree, a further narrative turn into a post-neorealistic vision of the world. According to Tom Rakewell (n.d.), who has reviewed his short stories, David Foster Wallace, could be said to be a writer of ‘metafiction,’ perhaps the original brand of postmodern fiction, but that his fiction is so often fiction about fiction-making is really a function of the essentially realist strategy […]since the artificial discourses permeating postmodern culture are themselves used to construct stories about the world […]. One of the short stories Rakewell refers to is “Good Old Neon”. The above quotation shows the ambiguity in critics’ perceptions of Wallace’s fiction. Rakewell considers him to be, in a quite oxymoronic way, both a realist and metafictional writer, and many critics qualify him as being either an author dealing with modernist themes and issues, or as a post-scientific, metametafictional author 3 , which confirms the stylistic ambiguity of his writing. As in the previous stories, what dominates in the last one is a subjective and quite meticulous description of the first person narrator’s reconstruction of his experience, his depression, his relationship with his therapist and his motivation for committing suicide. This narrative, like in the “The Soul is not a Smithy”, is further complicated by various other narrative levels, self-reflections and meta-commentaries on various subjects that create metafictional effect. This would point to a postmodern character for the story, which is, however, further modified. Through a complicated process of narrative twists it creates what could be tentatively labeled a meta-metafictional, perhaps neo-postmodernist effect. What dominates on the macro-narrative level of this short story is Wallace’s subjectivized narrative, the exploration of the human mind and the relationship between outer reality and inner subjectivization of experience as filtered through the mind’s response to a complicated outer space created by various discourses. The story is thus reminiscent of the confession of a young man and his frustration at his inability to achieve a successful life, which finally leads to his suicide. The story develops with the narrator’s convincing pseudo-subjective narration on his relationships with his family members, friends and other people, especially with his therapist, which only intensifies the modernist character of the story and the subjectivization of outer experience in the narrator’s mind, implying the creation of a solipsistic universe. At the very beginning of the story, however, the narrator says: Jaroslav Kušnír 328 Pretty much all I’ve ever done all the time is try to create a certain impression of me in other people. Mostly to be liked or admired. (Wallace 2004: 141) This passage expresses not only the narrator’s confession, but it points out Wallace’s narrative trick - the narrator’s reconstruction of events and confessions will not be only about his feelings, but also about the process of the construction of an “impression”, i.e. of an image about himself in connection with his relationships with his therapist, family and friends. This process of construction of an image includes the narrator’s description of the main relationship, i.e. the one with his therapist, which forms the basis from which further connotations evolve. This description is not of a therapy session, or the narrator’s subjective feelings only, but of his construction of the image of himself. While during a therapy session the therapist becomes a dominant and authoritarian figure controlling the whole process of therapy, in Wallace’s short story it is a self-conscious narrator aware of his position as an object of manipulation who manipulates the whole relationship, who self-consciously creates a constructed, false image about himself and reveals the therapist’s weaknesses. As he puts it: I seemed to be so totally self-centered and fraudulent that I experienced everything in terms of how it affected people’s views of me and what I needed to do to create the impression of me I wanted them to have. (145) Fraudulence and manipulation associated with both image and reality construction through language evoke postmodern connotations, especially the idea of a problematic notion of reality and its construction through language. This is confirmed by the fantastic and metafictional elements by which Wallace’s narrator addresses the reader and predicts a future death from the post-mortem perspective after his death itself: Here are some of the various things I tried: EST, riding a ten-speed to Nova Scotia and back, hypnosis, cocaine, sacro-cervical chiropractics, joining a charismatic church, jogging, pro bono work for the AOL Council, meditation classes, the Masons, analysis, the Landmark Forum, the Course in the Miracles, a right-brain drawing workshop, celibacy […] I know this part is boring and probably boring you, by the way, but it gets a lot more interesting when I get to the part where I kill myself and discover what happens immediately after a person dies. (142-143) The first part of this extract including the enumeration of the narrator’s activities represents a mock parodic treatment of some of the most typical activities of the young and their sensibility, i.e. the obsession with traveling and cars, health and physical condition, interest in religious sects and cults, and experimentation with drugs, all representing the shallowness and superficiality of their sensibility. The second part draws the reader’s attention to the fictitiousness of the presented events, which makes it metafictional. At the From Descriptive to (Meta)-Metafictional 329 same time, death does not become a tragic event, but only another contribution to a catalogue of extreme and perhaps deviant activities characteristic of the contemporary way of life of the young generation. Wallace thus uses subjective psychological narrative and stream-ofconsciousness as a pretext for creating other kinds of narration evoking various levels of meaning. These can be identified as follows: 1) First of all, Wallace wants to express the inner feelings of the protagonist and his subjective perception of the world and reality; 2) this subjective narration is, however, neither a modernist stream-of-consciousness nor a traditional interior monologue describing the human mind but turns out to be the narrator’s meta-narration, i.e. a narration on his self-conscious construction of his psychological identity; 3) this is further complicated by the inclusion of various meta-commentaries, reflections or dreams, all creating an embedded narrative and metafictional effect which implies a postmodern narrative; 4) all this is, however, problematized by another, meta-metafictional level created by: a) a metanarrative, i.e. a reference to already metafictional and thus postmodern narrative; b) by the narrator’s eventual revelation of the narrative ambiguity in the final scene, for example, in which the narrator comments on David Foster Wallace and his feelings about his observation of the class photo in which the narrator appears: The reality is that dying isn’t bad, but it takes forever […] David Wallace blinks in the midst of idly scanning class photos from his 1980 AURORA WEST H.S. yearbook and seeing up my photo and trying, through the tiny little keyhole of himself, to imagine what all must have happened to lead up to my death in the fiery single-car accident he’d read about in 1991 […]David Wallace happening to have a huge and totally unorganizable set of inner thoughts, feelings, memories and impressions of this little photo’s guy a year ahead of him in school […]. (Wallace 2004: 180) As can be seen in this extract, the narrator eventually and surprisingly reveals his multiple status as narrator, writer and “real” person, which points out the difference between the real, physical world and the world of fiction that is achieved especially by the distance created by third person narration referring to David Foster Wallace, who is a real being and a writer as well. This extract thus also points to the symbolic death of physicality and the material world meant as a metaphor of the difference between this physical and fictional world of literature, since despite his physical death, the narrator tells the story about his death, which is physically impossible but acceptable for the world of fiction. In addition, narrative ambiguity is caused by the Jaroslav Kušnír 330 reference to David Wallace as a narrator, since it is not sure, however probable it might be, that David Foster Wallace is the narrator of the above extract and story. Conclusion In his short stories “Incarnations of Burned Children” and “The Soul is not a Smithy” David Foster Wallace uses descriptive passages to establish a traditional, either realistic or modernist subjective psychological narrative situation evoking a convincing depiction of the world. This situation is, however, later problematized by the inclusion of lyrical and fantastic elements and thus by a transformation of this narrative into a subjective psychological account of some traumatic experience, and by the symbolic depiction of the relationships between the material, physical and the abstract. Descriptive passages in “The Soul is not a Smithy” evoke almost a naturalistic and meticulous mimetic record of reality passing into a subjective psychological narration that is, however, further complicated by other parallel narratives constituting various different kinds of reality (fantastic, metafictional), through the use of which the author points out not only the mental perception of the outer physical world by the mind, but also the process of the construction of both reality and story through language. And, finally, in his short story “Good Old Neon” Wallace introduces a subjective psychological narrative reminiscent of modernist fiction describing the psychology of his protagonist, a frustrated and mentally unbalanced young man. The protagonist’s confessions are, however, further problematized and their truthfulness relativized by dreams, reflections, and meta-commentaries, which problematize both the modernist psychological narrative and the postmodernist narrative level. Further manipulating the modernist subject and postmodern narrative, Wallace extends initial descriptive passages to other kinds of narratives which change a story from a psychological subjective and modernist story into a story on the symbolic death of physicality and the material worlds and a story self-consciously and symbolically treating a difference between the reality and fiction. Works Cited Barth, John (1967). “The Literature of Exhaustion.” Atlantic Monthly 220. 29-34. Boswell, Marshall (2003). Understanding David Foster Wallace. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press. Harshaw (Hrushovski), Benjamin (1984). “Fictionality and Fields of Reference: Remarks on a Theoretical Framework.” Poetics Today 5: 2. 227-251. From Descriptive to (Meta)-Metafictional 331 Jameson, Frederic (1974). Prison House of Language: A Critical Account of Structuralism and Russian Formalism (Princeton Essays in Literature). Princeton and Chicester, West Sussex: Princeton University Press, 1974. McHale, Brian (1987). Postmodernist Fiction. London: Routledge. Mundaca, Marie (2004). “David Foster Wallace. Oblivion. Review.” http: www.themodernworld.com/ reviews/ Wallace_oblivion.html (accessed April 2006). Owen, Craig (1992). “The Allegorical Impulse: Towards a Theory of Postmodernism.” In C. Owens (ed.). Beyond Recognition: Representation, Power, and Culture. Berkeley: University of California Press.52-87. Rakewell, Tom (n.d.). “Consider Oblivion”. http: / / noggs.typepad.com/ the_reading_ experience/ 2004/ 08/ reviewers_of_da.html (accessed April 2006). Rother, James (1993). “Reading and Riding the Post-Scientific Wave: the Shorter Fiction of David Foster Wallace.” The Review of Contemporary Fiction 13: 2. 216-234. Wallace, Foster David (1998). A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again: Essays & Ruminations. Boston: Little Brown & Co. Wallace, Foster David (2004). Oblivion. New York and Boston: Little Brown & Co. Jaroslav Kušnír Dept. of Engl. Language and Literature, Faculty of Humanities and Natural Sciences The University of Prešov, Slovakia Narr Francke Attempto Verlag GmbH + Co. KG Postfach 25 60 · D-72015 Tübingen · Fax (0 7071) 97 97-11 Internet: www.narr.de · E-Mail: info@narr.de ‘English Studies in Flux’ maps out a dynamic topography of the area of Anglistics within the new Europe, both of which are in a state of vibrancy and change. The articles in this volume are ample testimony to the scalings, discoveries and translocations which characterize current Anglistics in its new-found mobility and multidisciplinarity. In parallel, ‘transdisciplinary’ Anglistics is represented here in its various ‘sub-regions’ of the theory and practice of linguistics, literar y and cultural studies, including translation, language study and their associated didactics. As a representative sample of current work in European English Studies this book will be of interest to researchers, teachers, and students alike. Eva-Maria Graf and Allan James both teach at the Department of English and American Studies, University of Klagenfurt. Eva-Maria Graf / Allan James (ed.) English Studies in Flux New Peaks, New Shores, New Crossings Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik, Band 22 2007, 224 Seiten, €[D] 58,00/ S F r 91,50 ISBN 978-3-8233-6342-2 AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen Rezensionen Heike Schaefer (ed.), America and the Orient (American Studies Monograph Series, Vol. 130). Heidelberg: Winter Universitätsverlag, 2006. Satyam S. Moorty The timely beckoning and challenging title America and the Orient, a potpourri of nineteen scholarly articles selected out of fifty-one contributions to the 51 st annual conference of the German Association for American Studies at the University of Mannheim, June 2004, to discuss the relation between “America and the Orient”, thoughtfully edited by Heike Schaefer, is a welcome addition to the growing body of post-colonial literary perspectives, multi-culturalism, studies on ‘clash of civilizations,’ et cetera. This daunting yet esoterically impressive cross-disciplinary collection of essays opens with Gesa Mackenthun’s theoretical piece “‘Between Worlds’: Edward Said and the Rediscovery of Empire in American Studies,” which acknowledges its debt to Said’s seminal work Orientalism (1978) in paving the way for “critical analysis of relations between Europe and non-European peoples in the modern period,” positioning the critical stance of Todorov, Greenblatt, and Lerner with an “appraisal of the significance that Said’s analysis of orientalism continues to carry for post-colonial reconfiguration of American Studies” (Preface, xi). It closes with Alexander Stephan’s overview and argumentative assessment of the current Middle East situation in “Culture Clash: American, German, and Saudi Arabian Intellectuals Debate the Concept of a ‘just war’”. This last non-theoretical essay explores the “recent international debate on the concept of ‘just war.’” As such the essays are classified under five groups: (1) Edward Said’s Orientalism and the Future of American Studies; (2) The Orient in Eighteenthand Nineteenth-Century U.S. Literature; (3) Intersections between Arabic, South Asian, and American Cultures in Contemporary Literature; (4) The Orient in Twentieth- Century Film, Painting, and Music, and (5) The Clash of Civilization Revisited. The second section of the volume includes essays by Sylvia Mayer, Jörg Thomas Richter, and Markus Heide which critically examine William Munford’s melodrama Almoran and Hamet (1798), Royall Tyler’s novel The Algerine Captive (1797), and “American Orientals/ American Patriots: Jews, Judaism, and the Early Republic in the Rezensionen 334 Writing of Royall Tyler and Mordecai M. Noah,” respectively. In his long essay, Ralph J. Poole examines in detail Bayard Taylor’s Poems of the Orient (1854), which “is but one literary output of his journey to the East” (96) and “reveals Taylor’s approach to cross-cultural engagement as being deeply self-reflexive and critical towards his own culture. The multifaceted implications of his Oriental poems are based on balancing Eastern habits with both German aesthetics and American ethics.” (100) Jeanne Cortiel, in the last essay of the second section, “The Oriental Mother: Race and Egypt in Frederick Douglass’s My Bondage and My Freedom (1855)”, demonstrates Douglass’s “American fascination with ancient Egypt. As an African American abolitionist author, Douglass refers to Egypt to create a discursive site that reflects, comments on, and disturbs antebellum race theories.” (Preface, x-xi) All the essays in the second section are of historical interest. It is unlikely that even graduate students of American literature/ American Studies would be familiar with either the authors or their works. As Schaefer in her balanced and well-articulated preface to the collection states, “the engagement of eighteenthand nineteenthcentury American literature with the Orient ranges widely in subject matter and approach […] American authors employ Oriental characters, settings, imagery, themes, and poetics in different ways, drawing on widely varying cultures, geographical regions, and historical times - from ancient Egypt and biblical Palestine to fourteenth-century Persia or contemporaneous Algiers.” (xi) As it is, Schaefer’s summary presents a somewhat limited view of the Orient. There is no reference to the importance of the Orient in American transcendentalists writers such as Emerson, Thoreau, and Alcott, and the great American bard Walt Whitman! Surely, then, the reader of the volume under review is conditioned by the belief that “Orient” pertains only to Egypt, Algeria, Palestine, and Persia. (G.L. Anderson in his “Preface” to Masterpieces of the Orient states that “this volume contains extracts from the literatures of Arabia, Persia, India, China, and Japan […] The word ‘Orient’ itself is a vague term, of use only for convenience…”) The third group of essays, “Intersections between Arabic, South Asian, and American Cultures in Contemporary Literature,” has one general and informative piece - Lisa Suhair Majaj’s “Arab-American Literature Today.” This is a highly enlightening overview, especially to readers unfamiliar with Arab-American writers. Majaj asserts that “Arab-American writers today confront a plethora of challenges, ranging from the political and artistic.” (148). She addresses concerns related to “ethnic identity formation, migration, forced and desired assimilation, hybridization, and cross-cultural communication.” (Preface, xi) Kareem Abu-Zeid’s essay, on the other hand, demands of the reader familiarity with the work of Syrian poet Adonis and examines the problems translators encounter. Familiarity with the specific works will be immensely helpful in appreciating Brian Brodhead Glaser’s essay “‘Racial’ Melancholy in the Poetry of Vijay Seshadri” - the reviewer has periodically seen individual poems of Seshadri in The New Yorker - that “unravels the repercussions of Seshadri’s ideal of color blindness” (Preface, xii); as well as of Mita Banerjee’s “Portrait of the Postcolonial Artist as a Maker of Dolls: Salman Rushdie’s Fury”. The question Banerjee has “tried to ask in this paper is whether there is not in fact a way to uphold the relevance of race in contemporary social and political life and simultaneously to question its boundaries […] Can one be postcolonial without being postethnic? ” (201) Rezensionen 335 Unable to disentangle several strands of contemporary jargon, the reviewer is tempted to quote editor Schaefer’s succinct summary of Banerjee’s article: “She reads Rushdie’s novel Fury (2001), which is set in New York City, as a meta-commentary on postcolonial politics that threatens to reinscribe the racial hierarchies it sets out to undo.” (Preface, xii) According to Banerjee, “Rushdie’s literary failure, then, may uncannily anticipate the end of the postcolonial, a fitting analogy since the very man who inaugurated the movement could hence be said to carry it to its grave.” (190) In the fourth section, “The Orient in Twentieth-Century Film, Painting, and Music,” the six essays focus on the roles of the Orient in twentieth-century American performance, film, painting, and opera. Interestingly, the topics touch upon ‘oriental’ femininity - belly dancing at the St. Louis World’s Fair in 1904, its influence on films such as Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), The Sheik (1921), Kismet (1955), demonstrating the influence of Arab culture on U.S. gender politics, discussed by Astrid Boger and Ella Shohat in their essays “The Princess Rajah Dance and the Popular Fascination with Middle Eastern Culture at the St. Louis World’s Fair,” and “Between America and the Orient: Notes on Popular Culture” respectively. The essays look at the past and are informative. The India-born Jewish artist Siona Benjamin, endowed with multiple cultural traditions, is justifiably situated to explore “development of ethnic and gender identities or the dire political repercussions of racist thought.” (Preface, xiii) Benjamin states at the outset: “In my paintings I raise questions about what and where ‘home’ is, while evoking issues such as identity, immigration, motherhood, and the role of art in social change.” (229) The cover of this volume of essays has a reproduction of Benjamin’s painting Finding Home #39: Zarina’s Encounter with Mr. Eastwood. Recognizing and being acutely conscious of space limitation for the review, I wish to make only a brief mention about the other three essays in the fourth section. They “take a closer look at how intercultural conflicts between Orient and Occident figure in contemporary American culture.” (Preface, xiii). Moreover, all the essays in this section could meaningfully be employed to advantage in teaching contextually such works as John Adams’s opera The Death of Klinghoffer (1991) and its film version (2003), dealing with the death of a Jewish American hostage at the hands of Palestinian hijackers. Gabriele Linke’s article “Teaching the History of Ethnic Conflict in the U.S.A. through Representations of the Japanese American Internment in World War II” takes up the issue of teaching interethnic contacts and conflicts between groups cast as oriental and occidental …” (Preface, xiii). Though the final section has been touched upon at the beginning of this review, it does open doors for argument and discussion about the ‘clash of civilizations.’ All three essays - Martin Genetsch’s “Samuel Huntington and the Interpretation of Culture,” Konstantina E. Botsiou’s “The Clash of Civilizations Revisited: The Interaction of the United States and Europe with the Orient,” and Alexander Stephan’s “Culture Clash: American, German, and Saudi Arabian Intellectuals Debate the Concept of a ‘Just War’” - are eminently readable, contemporary, and presuppose no knowledge of primary texts; they make fascinating reading. The strength of this collection is that some of the essays are informative, enlightening, and thought-provoking. On the other hand, the essays couched in contempo- Rezensionen 336 rary critical terminology, though substantially researched, may often go beyond the comprehension of educated readers as well. One major weakness of the volume is the fact that only in the Preface is there mention of the use of the expression/ term/ word “Orient”. The term itself is egregious; the word “Orient” is mostly employed to denote the Near and Middle East, Egypt, etc. Is “Orient” to be construed as “non-western? ” One flounders quite a bit in trying to grasp what “Orient” is and develops a certain uneasy response to the collection. The reader vaguely realizes a certain ‘negative’ aspect about the essays, despite solid scholarship of the essayists as clearly indicated in the bibliographies. The flagrant omission of significant Oriental thought both in nineteenth and twentieth century American literature - Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot, etc. - makes the volume somewhat lopsided, though the coverage as such is wide and extensive. So, what does “Orient” connote now? Is Middle East the “Orient”? Is Egypt “Orient”? Even Edward Said’s monumental groundbreaking work with its lofty title Orientalism is a misnomer. Said seems to interchangeably use terms such as “Islamic Orientalism,” “Arabic Orientalism,” etc. Is Islam an ‘Oriental’ religion? Questions like these remain unasked as well as unanswered, and this leaves space for future works on the topic. The present collection deserves to be scrupulously studied in small doses. Satyam S. Moorty English Department Southern Utah University Jaroslav Kušnír, Modernism-Postmodernism, Popular Culture, and Metafiction. Stuttgart: Ibidem-Verlag, 2005. Teresa Requena What is the difference between literary modernism and postmodernism? Or, how is metafiction an emblematic strategy used in postmodernist literature? All these are questions that have characterized the debate about literary postmodernism in the last decades of the twentieth century and Kušnír’s new book Modernism-Postmodernism, Popular Culture, and Metafiction provides us with his own answers through the analysis of selected works by Richard Brautigan, Donald Barthelme, Robert Coover, and Paul Auster. Presented as the continuation of a previous study on postmodernist fiction - Poetika americkei postmodernei prózy: Richard Brautigan and Donald Barthelme - Kušnír here extends his analysis to include more texts and authors than in his previous book. Modernism-Postmodernism, Popular Culture, and Metafiction consists of three chapters. The first, “Between Modernism and Postmodernism: Donald Barthelme’s novels Snow White and Paradise,” opens with a theoretical discussion of the relation AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 337 between modernism and postmodernism in which Kušnír traces definitions of both movements in their literary manifestations and reveals the unsteady ground on which a strict differentiation between the two rests. One of the study’s main assets is the systematization of the postmodern taking as a starting point Brian McHale’s taxonomy of postmodernist aesthetic strategies. Such theoretical foundation allows for a useful differentiation between modernist and postmodernist literature. By drawing on Jakobson’s concept of the dominant, McHale successfully manages to identify the differences in use and philosophical approach that both modernist and postmodernist literature make of self-referentiality, for example. In this sense, it is the first chapter which most convincingly integrates theory and practice into the analysis of the texts, viz. Barthelme’s Snow White and Paradise. Here, Kušnír successfully manages to show the previously identified differences between modernist and postmodernist literature as well as Barthelme’s return to a more traditional modernist aesthetics in the later stage of his career with the novel Paradise. Condensing a wide-ranging debate in this theoretical introduction - the most elaborate one of the whole study - leads to a high density of quotations, which might slow the pace of reading. Longer introductions to the quotations would possibly have helped to integrate them into the argument more tighly. A better way of marking them formally, e.g. by indentation, would additionally have made the text more fluent. The book is the compilation of previous work carried out on these very same authors that Kušnír has presented at several conferences throughout the years. Such fact is made evident at some points in the text, where the editing process has skipped expressions such as “this paper analyzes,” (56) and which at times reveals a certain weakness in the overall cohesive structure of Kušnír’s study. This fact also surfaces in the second chapter, “Postmodernism and Popular Culture,” which contains four different subsections - “The Western,” “Pornography,” “Fairy tales as popular culture” and “Popular autobiography and Travel Book in One”. In “The Western,” Kušnír analyzes the postmodern parody of the western genre both in literature - E.L. Doctorow’s WelcomeTo Hard Times and Robert Coover’s The Ghost Town - and cinema - Coover’s “Adventure! Shootout at Gentry’s Junction”. However, it is not clear why the west as a myth resulted in different cultural codes that require a separate treatment of literature and film. Likewise, there exists some overlapping, such as Brautigan as an example of the subversion of the Western, in which the same ideas occur at several points in the analysis. The lack of cohesive structure also leads, for instance, to the repetition of certain quotations (for instance, Baldick’s, pp. 85, 88) or redundant definitions of concepts such as the identification of pornography in the analysis of Coover’s Lucky Pierre in the Doctor’s Office and Spanking the Maid. Despite such problems of content organization, the second chapter tackles the ways in which the use of popular genres in postmodernist literature becomes a questioning of the politics of representation. Thus, reality is presented through the distorted lens of parody, satire, or the grotesque, which Kušnír interestingly links to a critique of major constituent elements of U.S. society such as individualism, the American Dream, or consumerism. The third chapter, “Postmodernism and Metafiction,” addresses works in which metafiction becomes the dominant aesthetic strategy: in Coover’s The Marker and The Hat Act, Auster’s The Locked Room and Vonnegut’s Timequake. Here, Kušnír Rezensionen 338 anlayzes the ways in which the different writers achieve a metafictional effect in their texts. As Kušnír acknowledges in the preliminary section of the book, metafictional effects do also occur in the texts he has analyzed in the previous chapters. Although he systematizes the definition of metafiction in this third chapter, the notion has already been articulated earlier, e.g. in the analysis of Coover’s Briar Rose or Pinocchio in Venice in the second chapter. Such fragmentation of the defining characteristics of metafiction may be due to the fact that the remaining chapters do not follow the structure of the first one, in which Kušnír devotes a certain attention to the theoretical debate between modernism and postmodernism. This necessarily leads to a heterogeneous element in the definition of the term. Moreover, the fact that Kušnír identifies metafiction as a pivotal element in postmodernist fiction makes the restriction of its analysis to just one specific chapter somewhat impractical. Such fragmentation also affects the definition of parody as an aesthetic postmodernist strategy that aims at a revision of the past and a criticism of representation. One feels, however, that a more detailed discussion of the concept in theoretical terms would have been helpful. Kušnír’s drawing on Waugh’s - and, to a certain extent, on Hutcheon’s - theorization of the concept of parody as a strategy of subversion that lays bare the politics of representation seems to stand on the same grounds as Jameson’s. However, for the latter, parody is just a mimicry of previous forms that aims at casting ridicule at existing styles; it is, therefore, devoid of any political content. Again, a preliminary theoretical section might have eliminated such levelling. Kušnír’s book constitutes a significant contribution to the field of U.S. literature and the study of such iconic postmodernist authors as Coover. By showing how postmodern literature uses aesthetic strategies to question the politics of representation and identifying parody and metafiction as significant postmodernist literary manifestations, Kušnír provides a rich and diverse picture of postmodernist literature. Teresa Requena Department of English and German Universitat de Barcelona Susanne Rohr, Die Wahrheit der Täuschung. Wirklichkeitskonstitution im amerikanischen Roman 1889-1989. München: Fink, 2004. Katrin Amian Auf den ersten Blick kommt Susanne Rohrs Buch bescheiden daher. Der Titel verspricht eine Studie zur “Wirklichkeitskonstitution im amerikanischen Roman” zwischen 1889 und 1989, und tatsächlich widmet sich Rohr in drei großen Kapiteln ausführlich Werken von William Dean Howells und Henry James, Gertrude Stein und Vladimir Nabokov, Thomas Pynchon und Paul Auster. Doch schon die Frage, mit der sie ihre Einführung beginnt, zeigt, dass es ihr um mehr als eine epistemologische AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 339 Lektüre dieser Romane geht. “Warum eine neue semiotische Theorie? ” ist da zu lesen, und schnell kann von Bescheidenheit keine Rede mehr sein. Das ist aber auch gut so, denn hinter Rohrs Romanlektüren verbirgt sich eine theoretische Reflexion, die selbstbewusst neue Wege geht. Rohrs theoretisches Augenmerk gilt dem amerikanischen Philosophen Charles Sanders Peirce (1839-1914), der vielen als Mitbegründer der modernen Semiotik bekannt ist. Statt sich jedoch mit den üblichen Versatzstücken aus Peirces semiotischer Theorie abzufinden - mit der Klassifizierung von Zeichen in index, icon und symbol zum Beispiel -, kehrt Rohr zu seinen philosophischen Schriften zurück und präsentiert Peirce als Erkenntnistheoretiker und Logiker, für den die Semiotik fester Bestandteil einer pragmatistischen Theorie der Wahrnehmung und Erkenntnis war. Rohrs jahrelange Beschäftigung mit Peirce kommt ihr hier zugute und lässt Die Wahrheit der Täuschung als gelungene literaturwissenschaftliche Weiterentwicklung früherer Ideen erscheinen. Was nun aber ist die “neue semiotische Theorie,” die Rohr verspricht, und wie fügt sie sich in den Kontext ihrer Romaninterpretationen ein? Rohr beginnt ihre Ausführungen mit einer Abgrenzung. Dies ist zunächst nur konsequent, impliziert die Rede vom ‘Neuen’ doch die vermeintliche Überwindung von etwas ‘Altem’. Das ‘Alte’ ist in Rohrs Zusammenhang nichts Geringeres als der dyadische Zeichenbegriff Ferdinand de Saussures, der, wie sie selbst betont, die literaturwissenschaftliche Theoriebildung der letzten fünf Jahrzehnte maßgeblich beeinflusst hat. Rohrs Einleitung gerät so zu einer Generalabrechnung mit den “theoretischen und textanalytischen Arbeiten des klassischen Strukturalismus, Poststrukturalismus, Dekonstruktivismus, New Historicism wie auch der neuesten ‘race, class und gender-Theorien’”, denen sie allesamt unterstellt, zu einer “ermüdenden Gleichförmigkeit und Vorhersehbarkeit” literaturwissenschaftlicher Arbeit beigetragen zu haben (8). Diese Zuspitzung ist in ihrer verallgemeinernden Form schade und unnötig. Schließlich hält die pauschale Verurteilung einer solch breiten Palette von äußerst unterschiedlichen Ansätzen der wissenschaftlichen Literaturkritik kaum einer differenzierten Betrachtung stand und verstellt zudem den Blick auf das, was Rohrs spezifische Lesart der “Wirklichkeitskonstitution im amerikanischen Roman” so interessant macht: das produktive Ineinandergreifen von Peirce’scher Erkenntnis- und post-dekonstruktivistischer Literaturtheorie, das Rohr auf eindrucksvoller Weise in der Lektüre der ausgewählten literarischen Texte münden lässt. Auch wenn Rohr also in der Formulierung der theoretischen Ansprüche ihrer Arbeit über so manches Ziel hinausschießt, so lohnt sich doch eine intensive Auseinandersetzung mit ihrem Projekt. Die Peirce’sche Erkenntnistheorie, so argumentiert sie, erlaube es von einem Prozess der Wirklichkeitskonstitution zu sprechen, der Realität nicht allein als Ausgangspunkt, sondern “als Resultat zeichengetragener Interpretationsprozesse” begreift (47). Als Verfechter einer pragmatistischen Erkenntnistheorie stellt Peirce das kreative Subjekt in den Mittelpunkt seiner philosophischen Betrachtungen. Für ihn sind Wahrheit und Erkenntnis keine unveränderlichen metaphysischen Kategorien, sie unterliegen vielmehr intersubjektiven Interpretations- und Verständigungsprozessen, die erst im finalen Konsens einer unendlich großen Interpretationsgemeinschaft das hervorbringen würden, was landläufig als Realität bezeichnet wird. Rohr betont nun, dass sich unter diesen pragmatistischen Prämissen die Wechselbeziehung zwischen fiktionalen und nicht-fiktionalen Wirklichkeiten neu denken und die Diskussion über das Konzept der Mimesis neu führen Rezensionen 340 lasse. Peirce ermögliche es, “von einer grundsätzlichen mimetischen Relation zwischen inner- und außertextlicher Realität” auszugehen, dies jedoch nicht im klassischen Sinne der Frage, wie “Realität in literarischen Texten abgebildet” wird, sondern in einer pointiert veränderten Form, die Rohr mit der Frage “Wie werden Prozesse der Realitätskonstitution in literarischen Texten abgebildet? ” auf den Punkt bringt (16). Die Betonung liegt somit auf dem prozesshaften Charakter eines pragmatistisch-semiotischen Realitätskonzeptes, das, wie Rohr hervorhebt, Wirklichkeit als ein fragiles Interpretationsprodukt versteht, das ständig neu verhandelt werden muss. Fiktionale Wirklichkeiten unterscheiden sich nach Peirce’scher Lesart in dieser Hinsicht nicht von nicht-fiktionalen Wirklichkeiten. Für Rohr sind sie jedoch ein privilegierter Ort der Reflexion “über die Konturen der Wirklichkeit” und damit “Teil - aber auch Träger” historisch spezifischer Prozesse der kulturellen “Selbstverständigung” über die Unsicherheitsmomente der Wirklichkeitskonstitution (14). Diese an kulturelle Verständigungsprozesse gekoppelte epistemologische Funktion literarischer Texte steht im Mittelpunkt der Textarbeit, die Rohr im Anschluss an ihr umfangreiches Theoriekapitel leistet. Ihre Textauswahl orientiert sich dabei an kanonischen Lesarten der amerikanischen Literaturgeschichte von 1889 bis 1989: William Dean Howells’ A Hazard of New Fortunes, Getrude Steins Blood on the Dining-Room Floor und Thomas Pynchons Gravity’s Rainbow repräsentieren die Literatur des klassischen amerikanischen Realismus, der Moderne und Postmoderne; Henry James’ The Golden Bowl, Vladimir Nabokovs Lolita und Paul Austers Moon Palace liest Rohr hingegen als “Schwellentext[e],” die die jeweiligen Übergänge zur Moderne, zur Postmoderne und zum “neuen literarischen Realismus post-dekonstruktivistischen Zuschnitts” markieren (15). Rohr interessiert an diesen kanonischen Texten und den Epochenbegriffen, die sie ihnen zuordnet, nun vor allem die Frage, “welche Momente der Realitäts-Unsicherheit in den jeweiligen historischen Kontexten besondere Aufmerksamkeit finden” (14). Im Falle des Realismus ist dies, wie ihre Lektüre von A Hazard of New Fortunes zeigt, die “Notwendigkeit zur intersubjektiven Auseinandersetzung über die Wirklichkeit”, die Howells’ Roman als endloses Gespräch inszeniert (88). Im Übergang zur Moderne verschiebe sich das Reflexionsbedürfnis, wie Rohr am Beispiel von The Golden Bowl und Blood on the Dining-Room Floor ausführt, von der interzur intrasubjektiven Ebene. Nun stehe der “sensible Moment[] des Welterratens” im Vordergrund, der durch überraschende Perspektivenwechsel endlos fortgeschrieben und als minutiöse Studie der “Tiefenstrukturen menschlicher Wahrnehmung” radikalisiert wird (188). An der Schwelle zur Postmoderne nehme der Grad der reflektierten Realitäts-Unsicherheit weiter zu. Zudem verlagere sich der Schwerpunkt der Reflexion von der Ebene der Wahrnehmung zur semiotischen Konstruktion von Welt, die, wie Rohrs Lektüre von Lolita und Gravity’s Rainbow zeigt, die Bewegung unendlicher Weltentwürfe auf die Spitze treibe. Mit Moon Palace schließt sich für Rohr an diese “radikale Stufe” schließlich eine “Rückkehr zur Reflexion des Moments der Intersubjektivität” an (17). Reduziert auf ein solches argumentatives Gerüst mag Rohrs Vorgehen schematisch klingen. Doch ihre Textinterpretationen sind in jeder Hinsicht überzeugend und absolut lesenswert. In elegantem Stil führt Rohr ihre Leser durch die fragile Zeichenwelt der sechs Romane, taucht ein in die Tiefen narrativer “Unsicherheitszonen” (238) und geht dem “epistemologischem Subtext” (12) der Romane feinfühlig nach. Dabei greift sie immer wieder bekannte Lesarten auf, wendet sie dann aber neu und Rezensionen 341 wirft so tatsächlich interessante neue Perspektiven auf die bereits ausführlich diskutierten Texte. Im Falle von A Hazard of New Fortunes gelingt es ihr zum Beispiel, die scheinbar triviale Wohnungssuche der Marches, die zu Beginn des Romans erstaunlich viel Raum einnimmt, als Schlüssel zu einer epistemologischen Interpretation des Romans zu begreifen und sie als bedeutende Szene zu lesen. Auch die vielen Verbindungen, die Rohr im Zuge ihrer Lektüren zwischen den einzelnen Romanen zieht, sind äußerst gewinnbringend. Da tritt Lolita in Dialog mit Gravity’s Rainbow, Steins Detektivroman knüpft Verbindungen zu James’ Spätwerk und Austers Moon Palace offenbart interessante Parallelen zu Howells’ A Hazard of New Fortunes. Die kanonischen Epochenbegriffe, auf die Rohr rekurriert, erweisen sich somit als durchlässiger als der Aufbau ihrer Arbeit zunächst vermuten lässt. Indem Rohr die amerikanische Literaturgeschichte aus Peirce’scher Perspektive neu liest, öffnet sie einen Raum für konzeptionelle Verschiebungen, die die Rede von Realismus, Moderne und Postmoderne einerseits bestätigen, letztlich aber auch inhaltlich neu verorten. Die Wahrheit der Täuschung verwirklicht dieses Potential einer Kritik an konventionellen Lesarten der amerikanischen Literaturgeschichte nicht explizit. Das aber zeichnet Rohrs Arbeit gerade aus. Das Buch animiert zum Weiterdenken und reicht in seinen theoretischen Implikationen weit über den Gegenstandsbereich hinaus, den Rohr sich selbst gesetzt hat. Es drängt sich zum Beispiel die Frage auf, wie eine Peirce’sche Lektüre jenseits der weißen und - bis auf eine Ausnahme - männlichen Autoren, die Rohr liest, nutzbar gemacht werden kann. Käme Rohrs “semiotischerkenntnistheoretische Perspektive” (7) dann unverändert zum Zuge? Ließe sich die schematische Ausrichtung ihrer literaturgeschichtlichen Argumentation beibehalten, wenn man weitere Texte einer Epoche hinzuzöge? Kritische Einwände wie diese sind berechtigt, doch sie stellen Rohrs Projekt nicht in Frage. Statt dessen verweisen sie auf die unzähligen Möglichkeiten, ihre Theorie weiterzuentwickeln und in neuen literarischen Kontexten zu erproben. So ist Die Wahrheit der Täuschung schließlich nicht nur ein Genuss für vertraute Leser der sechs Romane, die ‘ihre’ Texte noch einmal neu entdecken möchten. Das Buch ist auch eine Pflichtlektüre für alle, die sich fragen, was die pragmatistische Philosophie Charles Sanders Peirces für die Literaturwissenschaft leisten kann. Gerade deshalb ist es auf jeden Fall zu empfehlen. Katrin Amian Institut für Anglistik, Amerikanistik und Keltologie Universität Bonn Rezensionen 342 Claus-Ulrich Viol, Jukebooks: Contemporary British Fiction, Popular Music, and Cultural Value (Anglistische Forschungen 349). Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag, 2006. Louis J. Kern In his chapter on pop music in Sexuality and Popular Culture (1998), Carl B. Holmberg observed that music is - or may be interpreted as - a non semantic sign system, a series of open texts that suggest not one and one only “correct” interpretation but numerous trajectories of interpretation and use. With lyrics superadded, the musical complexities may be variously interpreted as a fabric the lyrics reflect, defer, or oppose. The criticism of popular song is in no way as simplistic as some commentators ordain - but should focus on the music (213). Jukebooks can be read as an intertextual response to Holmberg’s call to take pop music seriously and to show the relevance of the increasingly common references to popular songs, musical icons, and musical culture - dance, radio programming, CDvinyl shops, album covers, the rave-drug scene - to postmodern fiction. By way of contextualization and discrimination of the use of popular music in postmodern fiction, Viol provides a critical overview of the use of “verbal music” in modernist literary classics like E.M. Forster’s Howard’s End and Aldous Huxley’s Point Counter Point. He finds its focus on the purest and most abstract musical forms to be a kind of cultural elitism that limits full access to the text to those sufficiently familiar with musicological form and style. In contrast to the rigidly formalized culture of high-culture music - audiences must remain quiet, can express pleasure only at the end of the performance of a piece, and the maintenance of a strict hierarchy of musicians in relation to the conductor - pop music, Viol maintains, “is ‘by nature’ multimedial, consisting of ‘language’ as much as of ‘sounds.’ Pop songs in fiction will in fact make many readers hear and perform music” (84). Viol argues that a variety of intertextual, transmedial, and intermedial techniques create a complex and powerful structure of textual musicalization in these texts that he calls the “new verbal music” (151). While he finds that integral use of music in pop texts may have a socially leveling effect insofar as it draws in a select group of readers that may feel themselves marginalized by more mainstream literary products (like working-class punk fans), his analysis of musical subcultures and the phenomenon of fandom make clear that the verbal representation of pop music may be equally hermetic as that of classical music. Viol argues that the intertextual use of pop music is the most common form of verbal music. It includes simple mention of a song or album title, references to concerts, bands, and singers, styles and attitudes associated with pop music culture, and significant events in its history. It serves to define characters, establish a context, further diegetic developments, and extend symbolic representation. Transmedial musicalization generally involves extensive quotation of song lyrics, a technique Viol calls “soundtracking fiction” (161). Its functions are to set the mood, to create feelings of involvement and empathy in the reader, and to establish an affective tone. Intermediality, Viol argues, is the stylized use of pop music (analogous to modern- AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 343 ism’s use of classical music) by which writers attempt to directly translate pop music into the structural dimensions of their work, rhythmically and formally. Viol undertakes a close reading of a limited body of postmodern texts that he uses as exemplary of “a new kind of verbal music” (246), and he concludes that this new employment of music in literature is similar to a soundtrack in film: information is provided, emotions evoked, identification is made possible by pop-musical references, frequently in so systematic a way that the practice amounts to a new narrative strategy with new narrative functions (246). If Viol’s analysis bears such a conclusion - in effect the emergence of a new kind of fictional representation - it does so only in the context of an age-specific, generationally-driven context, not as a universal phenomenon. It rests, as Viol observes elsewhere, on the assumption of the casual nature of the reception of pop music - its ambient quality is like elevator music, and it is equally inescapable. Certain tunes become indelibly associated with particular time periods and serve as reservoirs for popular memory and symbolic summations of collective experience. But in a world of highly fragmented musical tastes characterized by powerful technologies facilitating custom designed collections of pop music geared to the idiosyncratic tastes of each individual listener - MP3 players, iPods, and Napster.com - Viol’s assumptions about the reception and use of pop music and therefore the viability of the “new” verbal music seem quaintly dated. Even when confirmed by a text he examines, like Barry Hines’ Elvis Over England (1998), they are classand generation-bound. Eddie, the novel’s protagonist, is a redundant steelworker who undertakes a pilgrimage to Prestwick Airport in Scotland, the only place in the UK “the King” ever visited. Eddie’s emotional and psychological attachment to the songs and his idolization of Elvis are indicative of his arrested development; these are songs of his youth, and he has never moved beyond them. While it is true that there is a broader community of Elvis fans, Eddie can only find solace after the breakdown of his marriage with the Scottish barmaid Sue, whose home is a shrine to Elvis. Pop music has offered flight and the opportunity to cross the boundary between his real broken life and his fantasy life, but the motion of the novel is along the trajectory of escape, and Eddie can find solace only in a small Scottish village. While many of Eddie’s contemporaries may remember the words to “Heartbreak Hotel,” they may well not carry the very powerful emotional connotations they do for Eddie. Indeed, the stunned, embarrassed silence of the other punters attending the pub’s Elvis Memorial Night in response to his intensely emotional karaoke rendition, suggests as much. Then, too, Viol’s depiction of the male subculture of pop music mavens in the pop music shop in Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity (1995), who do not discuss personal problems, relationships, or failed ambitions with one another, seems less directly the effect of their collective obsession with pop music than it does an expression of a traditional male, working-class culture that maintains a taboo on emotional expression and affective male association expressive of homophobia. Viol concludes that both thematically and technically pop music has had a huge impact on recent British literature and that, reciprocally, our understanding of pop music has been significantly shaped by its fictional representation. While this is arguably the case, Viol’s arguments about the reception of pop music and its endur- Rezensionen 344 ing emotional power are less convincing, and seem much less relevant to the technologically transformed world of contemporary pop music that provides little shared experience for its listeners. Given the apparent trends of pop music cultures, it seems unlikely that the “new” narrative strategies of musicalized texts will prove an enduring shift in popular literary representation Louis J. Kern History Department Hofstra University, Hempstead, NY Brenda Hollweg, Ausgestellte Welt: Formationsprozesse kultureller Identität in den Texten zur Chicago World’s Columbian Exposition (1893). Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag, 2001. Louis J. Kern Recently, the World’s Columbian Exposition has enjoyed renewed attention in American popular literary texts. Robert Bloch’s American Gothic appeared in 1974, and more recently Alec Michod published The White City: A Novel (2003), followed by Erik Larson’s bestselling The Devil in White City: A Saga of Magic and Murder at the Fair that Changed America (2004). Interestingly, in all three novels Chicago and the Exposition grounds serve as the backdrop for the fictionalized homicidal career of H.H. Holmes [Herman Webster Mudgett (1861-96)]. The Holmes cult was further evidenced by the release of a documentary film, H.H. Holmes: America’s First Serial Killer (2004), directed by John Borowski. The Exposition has also figured in a recent computer game - “1893: A World’s Fair Mystery,” revolving around a jewel heist, and an ongoing virtual reality project directed by Lisa Sunder of UCLA’s Urban Simulation Team, which is developing an on-line Virtual Columbian Exposition. It is in the context of this renewed and heightened interest in the Fair that Hollweg’s Ausgestellte Welt has been published. Hollweg’s work provides a reading of the textual representations of the Exposition in the context of the crisis of identity - national and personal - that characterized the transition to modernity. Her focus on identity formation affords a new scholarly reading of the Fair. Sources for the study are drawn from a wide range of contemporary popular cultural expressions - official and unofficial guidebooks, newspaper accounts, magazine articles, personal accounts, humorous reflections, poetry, novels, and detective stories. From these diverse texts, voices and perspectives, Hollweg sketches a complex system of discourse that enabled an America in transition to address both the reinterpretation of national foundation principles and their contestation by marginalized groups. AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 345 The overall goal of Hollweg’s study is to demonstrate how the symbolic realm of literature, in its concentration on matters relating to the Exposition, proposed solutions for the social anomie of fin-de-siècle America as a means of furthering processes of social renewal. To the extent that the literary representations of the Fair and the personal experience of visitors can be read as a response to official representations, these texts also provide an insight into the diversity of public reception and evaluation of the Exposition, and into a counter-discourse on the meanings of American nationality and culture. The World’s Fair as primary text (the literary texts being secondary) afforded both representation of established forms of collective identity and a site for the active production of new identities. It served as a trans-temporal site of representation, linking tradition and memory with renewal and the future. As a popular cultural site it also expressed ambivalence about national identity. Despite its avowed purpose of bringing all the world together in a single exhibition space, its basic ideological thrust reinforced American exceptionalism; in the disjuncture between the exhibition halls and the midway, the stark contrast between modernization (the Ferris wheel and massive electrification of the White City) and the sensationalist and exploitative “primitive” and freak shows mirroring existing class, gender, and social stereotypes and disparities (the fruits of the past), the Fair was expressive of uncertainty about the future direction of the nation. Hollweg subsumes the literary representation of the Fair under the phrase “Narrating the Nation” (20), signifying the verbal representation that complemented the physical forms of the museums and exhibits of the Fair itself. The work is especially effective in its use of humorous, detective, and utopian forms to convey the perspectives of those marginalized by virtue of race, gender, or class. William Dean Howells’ “Letters of an Altrurian Traveller” (1893), later expanded into the novel A Traveller From Altruria (1894), serves as the primary utopian text, starkly contrasting the symmetry, cleanliness, and security of the White City with the realities of contemporary Chicago, the “Black City.” This discussion is brief and overlooks the impact of Edward Bellamy’s much more popular Looking Backward (1888) on the visions of the ideal city planned for the Fair. Elisabeth Harrison’s “The Fair White City; or, a Story of Past, Present, and Future” (1895) more effectively makes Hollweg’s point about alternative voices in the Fair discourse. It proposes a future national model emphasizing equality for Native Americans, African Americans, Asian Americans, and the burgeoning immigrant population of the cities. The social dynamics of the Fair as experienced by African Americans are accurately described by Hollweg, but are confined to a footnote (#83, 89-90). The full title of the protest pamphlet authored by African-American leaders, Reason Why the Colored Americans is not in the World’s Columbian Exposition: The African American Contribution to Columbian Literature (1893) is given neither in the footnote nor the bibliographic reference. Nor does Hollweg note the fact that President Harrison quite purposively excluded African Americans from both the U.S. National Commission and the Board of Lady Managers tasked with planning the Fair. She correctly notes the role of the Hampton Institute in mounting the only African-American exhibit, and the general relegation of Blacks to service and menial positions. Recently, the latter point has been challenged in the perhaps overly sanguine work of Christopher Reed, All Rezensionen 346 the World’s Here! : The Black Presence at White City (2002), which is not addressed by Hollweg. It should also be noted that China refused to officially participate in the Fair in protest against the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882), and that a privately-funded group of Chicago’s Chinese-American community organized the Chinese exhibit. Native Americans were present in the midway (but not the exhibition area) in Col. Cody’s Camp of the Nations. Hollweg considers gender in relation to the Fair through detective novels and humorous pieces. Cross-dressing, masquerading, and role inversion figure prominently in her discussion of criminal novels, e.g., E.M. Van Deventer’s Against Odds (1894), which features a female detective. In contrast, Marietta Holley’s Samantha at the World’s Fair (1893) offers a feminist critique of society. Since Holley was the most popular female humorist of the late nineteenth century, it would have been effective to briefly discuss another of her books, Samantha on the Race Problem (1892) to underscore the links between the diverse elements of the Schattengeschichte (226) that expressed the critical viewpoints of the excluded and powerless. Hollweg’s book provides a challenging and innovative critical approach to the popular texts of the Exposition that should prove useful to both scholars and students and, in its concluding passages, provides grounds for further research into the effects of the Disneyfication of culture (worldwide) and the internet on the prospects of future world’s fairs and international cultural expositions. Louis J. Kern History Department Hofstra University Hempstead, NY Thomas Claviez, Ulla Haselstein, Sieglinde Lemke. Aesthetic Transgressions: Modernity, Liberalism, and the Function of Literature. Universitätsverlag Winter, Heidelberg, 2006. Stipe Grgas Most of the papers gathered in this collection were presented at a conference of the John F. Kennedy Institute which was held to celebrate Winfried Fluck’s 60th birthday. As such the book is a gesture of recognition that pays homage to a deserving scholar whose work, amongst other things, has dealt with the function of literature and aesthetics, and who, more particularly, has in various ways exemplified the significant contributions Europeans have made to the field of American studies. Mapped onto these coordinates, the book has a theoretical focus: it addresses a growing concern within the field of literary studies, it marks a juncture within the discipline and sets up a possible agenda for future research. AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 347 The theoretical background upon which one can read most of the contributions is the “cultural turn” which, as far as literature goes, has problematized if not swept away the tradition of viewing its artifacts as autotelic entities. According to those who espouse this turn, literature is just one amongst numerous other strategies by way of which humans attempt to meaningfully inhabit their environment. The focus of research interest in this realignment of priorities shifts from the examination of immanent structures to the account of the ways in which literature relates to an extratextual reality. To give it some specificity within the more and more encompassing notion of culture, literature can be perceived as a constituent of the “cultural imaginary,” to use the title of Fluck’s study of the American novel: an agency which produces and disseminates culture’s networks of discursive themes, images, motifs, and narratives that collectives rely upon to constitute their identity. It was only to be expected that much scholarly work has been devoted to unraveling the manner in which literary works have bolstered specific identity politics, constraining action, or empowering resistance. If this has been true for critical theory in general, it has been even more pronounced in both American literature and American studies. It has been noted that in the United States literature was assigned the role of elaborating a national idea of culture unlike, for example, in Germany, where it was the task of philosophical discourse to do so. Therefore it comes as no surprise that explorations of the American polity, the strategies of its constitution and the processes of inclusion and exclusion that attended it, frequently relied on literary texts as an archive of evidence. In the introduction to the book under review the editors speak of a “critical consensus” prevailing in America which maintains that literature must be a part of the “democratic public sphere”. However, they note that the acceptance of this axiom has led to conflicts because one group of critics holds that the American literary canon is ideologically subservient to the interests of the ruling elite, while another group believes in the efficacy of literature to castigate the shortcomings of “social regimes of meaning” and to search the canonical texts for a “counterfactual vision”. However one is inclined to adjudicate between these two positions, preferring to see literature as either validation or negation, the reader of the book under review recognizes that its authors attempt to take the argument a step further. Reading much that has been produced within the field of American studies or writing on it within the prescribed theoretical paradigms, one frequently feels an unease that the literary text has become irrelevant, that it has disappeared into thin air. Often it functions as no more than a source of documentation, illustrative of sociohistorical circumstances, or as an index of ideological options. The essays collected in this volume articulate this unease by reintroducing the notion of the aesthetic, which has tended to disappear among the factions of critical discourse vying for interpretative hegemony in American literature. The authors gathered here consider literature as a “rhetorical strategy” whose power lies “in its ability to draw out, and possibly challenge, the reader’s imaginative investments in certain characters, social values, or patterns of action” (8). In their attempts to define “the transgressive quality of the aesthetic,” they explore the textual strategies of particular literary works, the “discursive environment” of the reading public, as well as other social functions. The first group of texts gathered under the title “The Transformative Potential of the Aesthetic” investigates the notion of transgression by putting it within broader Rezensionen 348 frameworks. Using a systems theory approach, Wolfgang Iser defines culture itself as an “emergent phenomenon” and develops an argument which shows the literary text, as a part of culture, to be a “paradigm of emergence” (33). Herbert Grabes historicizes the imperative to make it new, shows it to have been present in historical formations predating modernism, and gives examples of recent literary developments which evince a return to an aesthetic “of a milder degree of strangeness, of more subtle differences” (56). Focusing upon the nexus of the aesthetic and the political and targeting texts by Melville and Twain, Emory Elliott addresses the manner American writers have critiqued the dynamic of power and astonishment. He proposes a parallel between the military strategy of shock and awe used by the Americans before the attack on Iraq and the political implications that can be read from the two earlier novelists who shocked their readers into the recognition of some of the dehumanizing traits that continue to mark American foreign policy. Ulla Haselstein is less convinced of the “oppositional merit” of literary texts, both because of the general marginalization of literature and because of the capability of modern society to contain and control them. Focusing upon Leo Marx as a representative of the older school of American studies, Donald Pease questions their practice, stating, for instance, that each of the national metanarrative’s “foundational signifiers” “possessed a performative dimension that empowered the myth to bring about belief in the truth of state of affairs they represented” (105). The New Americanists, on the other hand, needed these “to disclose what the myths covered over” (110), after which they “worked the gaping contradictions between facts and beliefs into motives for social transformation” (111). The next group of papers is entitled “Possibilities and Limits of Aesthetic Transgression”. Focusing upon the role Victorian literature dealing with the British Empire actually had at the time when it was published, Ansgar Nünning voices the need to take stock of the very notion of function and attempts to produce a convincing definition. He stresses the point that the functions of literature are subject to historical change and that they are specific in historical and cultural terms. In his taxonomy of the functions his chosen corpus of text played in a specific time and place he warns of the risk “of privileging as well as overemphasizing the transgressive role of literature” (128). Pointing to the fact that poetry, “as a private aesthetic space” “rarely figures in theoretical speculations of the anthropological bent” (149), Astrid Franke explores what this genre, exemplified by a reading of a poem by Tennyson and one by the American poet Hayden Carruth, can bring to the reader that may have been elided or neglected in prose narratives. In her reading of The Scarlet Letter, Sieglinde Lemke uncovers a sort of double bind in Hawthorne’s text which affirms the validity of opposites that seem mutually exclusive. Stefan Brandt’s initial appraisal of Hawthorne’s stance towards the romantic ideal as being ambivalent eventuates in the generalization that the American author managed “to create a careful balance between structuring and playful destructuring […] an ambivalent strategy of both authentification and deconstruction” (219-20). Chistopher Decker looks at Fritz Lang’s early American films in order to investigate the part they played in Hollywood’s cinema of social critique during the thirties. In his view, Lang’s work was most effective when he was able to integrate the experimental innovations of his Weimar period or Brechtian devices into the established American-style forms of telling stories. Susanne Rohr’s aim is to focus not on whether or not the Holocaust can be repre- Rezensionen 349 sented, but on how this is done. Her discussion of the new subgenre of Holocaust comedies shows them to be “transgressing taboos”, exploring ways of aesthetically dealing with the (un)representable. The third and final grouping of papers bears the title “Modernism and the Function of Literature”. Relying upon the works of William Carlos Williams, Langston Hughes, and Richard Powers, Heinz Ickstadt goes against the grain of Dewey’s skeptical evaluation of modernist art and recognizes in these authors an antithetical project founded on the ideal of “the communicative possibility and social function of art” (264). Thomas Claviez explores the “somewhat uneasy status” (290) of the common man in the work of Walt Whitman, William Carlos Williams, and James Agee. The following quotation from his article illustrates the function of literature that I think the papers grouped in this section seek to articulate: “It is the political task of the artist to transcend the impending heterogeneity and differentiation of society, and thus to leave politics - as a negotiation of differences that has to acknowledge them in the first place - behind” (306). The next two papers deal with Ernest Hemingway. In his Rortian reading of Hemingway, Kurt Müller focuses upon the blanks in Hemingway’s text and shows how this is not only a proper response to the structure of the text itself but how it has moral implications in the sense of the ethical reading promulgated by Rorty. As his point of departure Frank Mehring notes the “peculiar incuriosity regarding the city of Paris” (339) and shows how the way the locality functions within Hemingway’s texts points to broader cultural configurations. Not to leave out drama from the repertoire of genres dealt with in the collection, Dalia El-Shayal’s essay focuses on the structural issues that have allowed Greek theatre to stand as a “model for adaptation” (362) by African and African-American playwrights. El-Shayal demonstrates how the superimposition of Greek tragedy and American history highlights the tragic consequences of slavery. This collection of essays is a welcome intervention in the field of American studies, whose practices have witnessed almost the virtual disappearance of interest in the aesthetic. As such, it gestures to a need of reappraisal which stems both from developments outside the discipline as well as from a sense of exhaustion and loss of disciplinary identity within. Whether future developments will accord with the research agenda that I have attempted to sketch in this review is an open question. In conclusion, I want to foreground a point which I think has relevance far beyond the confines of the book under discussion. Rarely do the contributors to this collection succumb to a habit of thought which has made it virtually an article of faith to assume that value or ideas of interest lie only on the side of transgression and not on the side of fixity and structure. Focusing on transgression, they showed themselves acutely aware that only something stable can dissolve itself, that identity is the presupposition of alterity, that for literature to be subversive there must be an enabling point of reference. If for nothing else, it is this note of informed caution that I believe gives special merit to the collection and that can open a rich quarry for further study. Stipe Grgas Department of English University of Zagreb Rezensionen 350 Daniel Schreier, Consonant Change in English Worldwide. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. Ulrike Gut Daniel Schreier’s book Consonant Change in English Worldwide is concerned with phonotactic variation and change both in the historical development of English and in synchronic variation across different varieties of English. Focussing exclusively on the process of consonant cluster reduction (CCR), the author aims not only to explain historical changes through an analysis of current variation but also to predict future changes and diversification by identifying general principles underlying both. His objects are to find both language-internal and external factors contributing to phonotactic change in English and to identify the conditions under which variation turns into permanent change. The author locates the study of CCR at the crosssection of several linguistic subdisciplines including typology, universals and phonological theory, language variation and change, contact linguistics and genetic linguistics and language acquisition and psycholinguistics. Chapter 2 presents an introduction to syllable structure theory and to the sonority hierarchy. After a brief presentation of studies concerned with cluster modification in second language (L2) acquisition, the terms ‘naturalness’ and ‘markedness’ are defined and a summary of results on the phonetic and morphological constraints of CCR processes in various varieties of English is given. Here, the author stresses the importance of considering the possibility of a confounding influence of sonority effects on these factors. A presentation of all possible two-consonant (CC) and three-consonant (CCC) clusters in English onsets and codas is followed by a description of the consonantal processes metathesis, compensatory lengthening, assimilation, dissimilation, epenthesis and deletion. Section 2.3 raises the questions whether phonotactic change is caused by external factors such as language contact or by internal factors. Further, it is argued that children cannot be the agents of phonotactic change despite apparent similarities between their productions and the outcome of CCR processes. Chapters 3 and 4 form the heart of the book with analyses of reduction processes in onset clusters and coda clusters, respectively, that combine the investigation of diachronic and synchronic variation. Chapter 3 is concerned with initial consonant cluster loss in English. With a corpus analysis based on word spellings in the Helsinki Corpus, the Oxford English Dictionary and the Anglo-Saxon Dictionary the author confirms the traditional views on the time frame of the loss of <hn->, <hl-> and <hr->. These clusters already had the one-segment alternative spellings <n>, <l> and <r> in the earliest records of the 9 th century with the change being complete by the late 13 th century. Further, he shows that the loss of these clusters follows the pattern of an S-curve commonly found in language change. The loss of <fn-> and <wl-> is found to be mainly a function of lexical loss. The author demonstrates that contrary to traditional views the <wl-> cluster only died out in the early 16 th century. Section 3.2 analyses the ongoing change of / hw-/ to / w-/ in New Zealand English. It is based on the speech of 45 New Zealanders born between 1896 and 1935 with different places of origin (Canterbury, Southland/ Otago and North Island). The author observed a higher percentage of / hw-/ realisations for Southlanders than other speak- AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 351 ers, which is probably derived from the different settlement histories (a Scottish founder effect in the South compared to dialect levelling in other areas). In section 3.3, the author presents Alber & Plag’s (2001) analysis of initial cluster reduction in Sranan, an English-based Creole spoken in Suriname. They show that the clusters / sm-/ and / sn-/ are not reduced while biand trisegmental clusters involving / s/ such as / sp-/ and / str-/ have lost the / s/ . This finding is explained in part by lexical conditioning, but mainly by ‘phonotactic optimization’. Using the OT framework, they claim that the observed language change does not violate the constraints ‘no skip’ (“form a contiguous sequence”) and ‘no intrude’ (“no epenthesis”). The author interprets this as an optimisation of clusters in terms of the sonority hierarchy (p. 125) and as “evidence for substratal influence and the preference for universal structures in contact conditions” (p. 122). Chapter 4 is concerned with synchronic variation in final cluster reduction. After presenting the final consonant clusters of present-day standard English, the author discusses the phonetic, morphological and social constraints that have been identified to operate on final / -t,d/ deletion. In section 4.2 he reports on his analysis of final plosive reduction in Maori English, Pakeha (white) New Zealand English, St Helenian English and Tristan da Cunha English, the latter two being South Atlantic islands with a relatively late and particular colonization history. Based on an analysis of 5748 clusters he finds that the overall reduction rate is higher in the South Atlantic Englishes than in the New Zealand varieties and higher in Maori New Zealand English than in Pakeha New Zealand English. Further, in St Helenian English and Tristan da Cunha English plosives in bimorphemic clusters are more likely to be reduced than in monomorphemic clusters, which stands in contrast to the processes observed in the two New Zealand English varieties. In section 4.3, twelve studies on final CCR and / -t,d/ deletion in Philadelphia English, Appalachian English, Hyde County NC English, York (UK) English, Vietnamese L2 English in the U.S., African American English, Los Angeles Chicano English, Texas Tejano English, Indian English, Korean L2 English, Bahamian English and Jamaican English are compared. These varieties are grouped into native varieties, dialects, and varieties developed from language contact situations such as language-shift, bilingualism and English as a second language. Chapters 5 and 6 provide a summary of the various studies described in chapters 3 and 4 and offers some interpretations and explanations of consonant cluster reduction processes ranging from substratal influences and language-internal constraints to psycholinguistic explanations. This book would have constituted pioneering work in its aspiration to combine analyses of diachronic change with analyses of synchronic variation and due to the large number of varieties of English compared with respect to CCR variation had the writing and the analyses been carried out in a more scientific manner. As it is, the scientific value of the book is severely limited due to several factors. First, throughout the book, the author uses technical and theoretical terms in an imprecise and vague way, for example when he writes about “the extent to which phonotactic changes depend on phonological theory” on p. 7 (How can an actual observable language pattern depend on its theoretical description? ) or when he distinguishes between language acquisition, “the mental and cognitive processes by which children acquire their native language […] and […] language learning, the efforts of adolescents or Rezensionen 352 adults to achieve competence in a second […] language” (p. 47) (Does he mean to imply that the processes of L2 acquisition are not mental and cognitive? ). Terminological and theoretical uncertainty is especially pronounced in the area of phonetics (whose exclusion from the list of related linguistic disciplines is puzzling) and phonology, for example when the definition of sonorous sounds is given as “more prominent in terms of articulation” (p. 19) (instead of “in their acoustic properties”), when the author claims that / / and / w/ do not exist in present-day English anymore as a combination in a cluster (how about thwart? ) and when, on page 130, he analyses the / -ndld/ of the disyllabic kindled / kin.dld/ as a final consonant cluster consisting of four consonants. Moreover, throughout chapter 4, the author uses the term ‘CCR’ indiscriminately and variably to refer to final cluster reduction in general, to final plosive reduction and to final / -t,d/ deletion. Second, a lack of theoretical grounding is evident throughout the book, especially in the areas of phonetics and phonology, first and second language acquisition and psycholinguistics. To give just a few examples: The author does not answer satisfactorily the central question of whether / hw-/ really constitutes a sequence of two sounds or whether it should be analysed as the one segment / / . Whilst it is impossible to solve this question for Old English, the author could have easily analysed his recordings of New Zealand English acoustically for evidence of a consonant cluster. Further, on page 188 the author admits that he is not aware of the extensive literature on CCR in L2 English (e.g. Tarone 1980, Anderson 1987, Major 1996, Hansen 2001, to name but a few). Similarly, his claim that epenthesis and paragogue are uncommon in L2 English varieties (p. 190) shows his unawareness of current knowledge in this area (e.g. Jowitt 1991, Simo Bobda 1995 on Nigerian English and Cameroon English). Moreover, the book does not include any discussion of Bybee’s (e.g. 2002) work on frequency effects on phonetically conditioned final cluster reduction. Both an explanation of the differences in ‘/ hw-/ ’ frequency between function words and content words found for New Zealand English in section 3.2 as well as the discussion of language-internal factors would have profited greatly from an inclusion of her findings. This theoretical vagueness is also reflected in numerous claims contradicting each other. To give just two examples: On page 80, the author raises the question why initial cluster reduction is more advanced in English than in other related languages and claims that “surely there can be no external motivation here”. Yet on page 216 he states that “[t]he external history may thus at least to some extent account for the trajectory of initial English cluster loss in English”. On page 221, he claims that vowel epenthesis is mostly found in L2 English varieties, yet on p. 190 he stated that it was uncommon (see above). The third and by far weakest point of the book is its lack of methodological sophistication, which renders many of the conclusions and theoretical interpretations of the author’s analyses invalid. For example, on page 181, the author interprets the clearly not significant differences between 82.7% and 82.5% and between 79.5% and 78% as a weak effect. Further, in chapter 3, he presents the results of his analysis of putative / hw-/ in New Zealand English and claims to have found a higher realisation rate for women than for men. Yet when considering the percentages given in Table 3.7 and his statement that within-speaker variation ranged from 0% realisations to 85% (also shown in Figure 3.10), it becomes clear that the differences between 27% and 20.8% cannot be statistically significant. His claim that men led the change and Rezensionen 353 women caught up faster in later periods is not supported by his data. Neither can the author’s claims on the role of the preceding and following phonetic context be upheld when considering the percentages presented in Table 3.7 and in Figure 3.11. The interpretation of the percentages found in the study of final plosive deletion in Maori English, Pakeha (white) New Zealand English, St Helenaian English and Tristan da Cunha English shows the same lack of statistical evaluation, which again leads the author to wrong conclusions. A quick glance at the numbers presented in Table 4.4 shows that his claims about the influence of the preceding phonetic environment of final plosives and his conclusion that “C 1 -related effects are to a certain extent variety-specific and therefore particularly diagnostic” (p. 155) are contradicted by his own data. As a last example: throughout section 4.3 the author confuses final CCR with / -t,d/ deletion and compares findings of studies on both phenomena. Despite the incomparability of the data (also in terms of speaking style, data elicitation, number and type of speakers and data analysis) elicited in the various studies he makes farreaching claims concerning the role of preceding and following phonetic context, morphological status on cluster/ plosive/ -t,d deletion as well as on language typology, variation and language change. To end on a more positive note: the object of the book, the investigation of variation and change both in the historical development of English and in synchronic variation across different varieties of English is an exciting one. In this way the book might serve as an inspiration for future research. References Anderson, Janet (1987). “The markedness differential hypothesis and syllable structure difficulty.” In: Georgette Ioup and Steven Weinberger (eds.). Interlanguage Phonology. Cambridge, MA: Newbury House. 279-304. Bybee, Joan (2002). “Word frequency and context of use in the lexical diffusion of phonetically conditioned sound change.” Language Variation and Change 14. 261-290. Hansen, Jette (2001). “Linguistic constraints on the acquisition of English syllable codas by native speakers of Mandarin Chinese.” Applied Linguistics 22. 338-365. Major, Roy (1996). “Markedness in second language acquisition of consonant clusters.” In: Robert Bayley and Dennis Preston (eds.). Second Language Acquisition and Linguistic Variation. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. 75-96. Simo Bobda, Augustin (1995). “The phonologies of Nigerian English and Cameroon English.” In: Ayo Bamgbose, Ayo Banjo and Andrew Thomas (eds.). New Englishes, Ibadan: Mosuro. 248-268. Tarone, Elaine (1980). “Some influences on the syllable structure of interlanguage phonology.” International Review of Applied Linguistics 18. 139-152. Ulrike Gut Chair for Applied English Linguistics University of Augsburg Rezensionen 354 Dieter Fuchs, Joyce und Menippos. ‘A Portrait of the Artist as an Old Dog’ (ZAA Monograph Series 2). Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2006. Andreas Mahler Im auf den ersten Blick gesucht wirkenden Untertitel steckt das ganze Argument. Denn was der schmale, dichte Band unternimmt, ist eine fundamentale Re-Lektüre des gesamten Joyce’schen Werks - und Lebens - aus dem Geist vorchristlich kynischer Philosophie. Hierzu skizziert das erste Kapitel den Begründungsrahmen (3-5), das zweite rekonstruiert die Menippea als Form und Forum antik egalitärer, zyklisch offener Weltanschauung samt den sie über die Zeiten christlich wahrheitsbewusster Repression hinwegrettenden ‘Textbausteinen’ (7-26), das dritte plausibilisiert den Joyce und Menippos einenden biowie bibliographischen Zusammenhang (27-43), bevor das zentrale, umfangreiche vierte Kapitel das eigentliche Porträt des sich im kynischen Schreiben schrittweise aus den Zwängen des Jesuitentums wie des Aristotelismus befreienden Künstlers entwirft (45-150), welches das fünfte synoptisch beschließt (151-52). Leitthese ist die auf dem Grund bewusster, hartnäkkiger Aneignung menippeischen Denk- und Formenrepertoires erfolgende, schreibende Loslösung Joyces sowohl aus der paralytisch-bigotten Enge des zeitgenössischen Dublin (3) wie auch aus der die Literatur um 1900 prägenden Krise der Repräsentation (4) über ein die menippeischen Palimpseste archäologisch ergründendes Über- oder eher Unterbzw. Rücküberschreiben der mimetisch-teleologischen Tradition. Auf diese Weise erscheint Joyces Schreiben als ganz persönliches, individuelles Monument sich konsequent selbst beobachtender “Lebens-Kunst” (4, 31ff.), als unendliche ‘Arbeit am Text’. Systematisch steht und fällt ein solchermaßen programmatisch um Joyce und Menippos zentriertes Argument mit dem notorisch unscharfen Begriff der Menippea. Dessen ist sich Vf. wohl bewusst. Dementsprechend postuliert er in einem ersten Schritt einen von ihm so genannten “sympotischen Diskurs” (12ff.) als von der hellenistischen Kultur der Polis geprägtes System egalitären Denkens und Argumentierens mit dem Dispositiv eines frei und urdemokratisch imaginierten Symposiums als unverwechselbarem Sitz im Leben und profiliert sodann über dessen literarische Konkretisation bei Varro, in der römischen satura, bei Lukian und in der Spätantike die Menippea als dialogisch bestimmte “anthropologisch-weltanschauliche Form des Satirischen ” (8; Hervorh. v. Vf.), als alles einziehende und alles relativierende, sich auf nichts verpflichtende und in der Indirektheit des von ihr bevorzugten “ductus obliquus” (Thomas Morus; 16) schwer belangbare scherzernste Rede des spoudogeloion. Menippeen erscheinen ihm folgerecht als literarische Realisationen sympotischen Denkens und Argumentierens; ihr Gegenstand ist der Mensch in seiner skeptischen Variante nicht als animal rationale, sondern lediglich als animal rationis capax (Swift), und dessen im Unbeantwortbaren verbleibende ‘Letzte Fragen’, ihre Verfahren das der ineinssetzenden Äquivalenz wie das der ausweichenden Alterierung. Diese grundständige Relationalität erweist die Menippea “als literarische Hülse, die den sympotischen Diskurs bespiegelt und deren generischer Grundkonsens darin besteht, […] Kritik an der Natur und Erkenntnisfähigkeit des Menschen zu üben”: sie ist “flexible Form”, und nicht “geschlossene Gattung” (25). Theoretisch mogelt sich AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 355 dies um etliches herum - die Frage des Satirischen, der Gattung überhaupt, des Karnevalesken samt seiner von Bachtin so prominent gemachten programmatischen Funktionalität und der von ihm profilierten Kategorien, des problematisch proliferierenden Begriffsfeldes des Komischen (Ironischen, Grotesken, Burlesken etc.), ganz zu schweigen von der Gefahr definitorischer Ineinssetzung des ‘Menippeischen’ mit dem ‘Sympotischen’ oder auch beider Metaphorizität. Analysepraktisch hingegen eröffnet eine solche Argumentation ein einleuchtendes Gegen-Porträt des Joyce’schen Werdegangs wie Œuvres aus kynisch-exzentrischer Perspektive und stellt die wesentlichen Motive und Textbausteine für eine “im Zeichen des Hundes” (24) antretende, kongeniale Präsentation eines der größten Literaten des 20. Jahrhunderts. Historisch entsteht auf dieser Grundlage eine zivilisationsgeschichtlich wie entwicklungspsychologisch inverse “Lebenserzählung in fünf Kapiteln” (45). Sie zeichnet die dekonstruktive Geschichte einer konsequenten Hintergehung christlichabendländischer Setzungen: bewusster ironischer Umkehrung des in der Spätantike einsetzenden Prozesses eucharistischer “Ablösung sympotischer Strukturen durch das Christentum” (ebd.). Ihre erste Station zeigt die experimentelle Überkreuzung christlicher und menippeischer Sinnstrukturen von den “Epiphanies” über Stephen Hero hin zu “The Sisters” und “Grace” (45-58), die zweite bezeugt den Versuch programmatischer Wiedergewinnung ‘sympotischen’ Denkens aus der intertextuellen Unterlegung der ursprünglich als “The Last Supper” konzipierten Erzählung “The Dead” mit den spätantiken Saturnalia des Macrobius (58-72), die dritte dialogisiert die aristotelische Bildungsgeschichte des Portrait mit den Metamorphosen des Ovid und den Gegen-Metamorphosen des apuleianischen Goldenen Esels zum synkretistischen Nebeneinander teleologischer und serieller Denkstrukturen (72-96), bevor sich in der vierten und entscheidenden Station des Ulysses die Relation von ‘realistischer’ Oberfläche und menippeisch-‘sympotischem’ Palimpsest umkehrt oder, besser noch, als fiktionswie fingierensbewusste Mischung von Wahrheit und Lüge in steter Schwebe hält (97-146), was in einem letzten, nurmehr angedeuteten Schritt - in der Penelope-Episode, bei Molly Bloom und Finnegans Wake - in der endgültigen Abkehr von der Mimesis und der prinzipiell endlosen freien Performanz des seriellen offenen Kunstwerks endet (146-50). Dies ist die Ästhetik des to have the cake and eat it: eine Konzeption des Wortkünstlertums als eines Prozesses beständigen Schreibens, möglichkeitsreichen Einbettens und Ausbettens aus Kontexten, diskursiver Konstruktion und konterdiskursiver Auflösung. Es ist die Geschichte grundständiger Doppelung, der “Relativität, Duplizität, Nonexklusivität von Oppositionen” (16); vom anfänglichen Hund “[a]t the fork of the roads” (46) zur bewusst synkretistisch kynisch-menschlichen, antik-christlichen Ausschreibung beider Möglichkeiten: von Abendmahl und Symposion mit “gleichermaßen an- und abwesendem Jesus” (63) bei Macrobius und in “The Dead”, von teleologischem Bildungsroman und mythisch relativierender Skepsis im programmatisch auf den ‘Young Man’ eingegrenzten Portrait, von Roman und Menippea, Mimesis und Performanz im Ulysses, von ‘GOD’ und ‘DOG’ (112). Dies ist die Arbeit des textmachenden ‘Poeten’, das ‘So-war-es-und-so-war-es-nicht’ aller Fingierenskunst, erkenntnisskeptische, erkenntnisoffene Ataraxie. Das Porträt des wandernden Exilanten James Joyce als eines welterfahrenen, kontingenzbewussten, Offenheit aushaltenden ‘Old Dog’ überzeugt. Es ist umsichtig Rezensionen 356 angelegt, sorgsam gestützt und wohl begründet, kenntnisreich durchargumentiert und weit über die trouvaille des unabweisbar komplementären Macrobius-Bezugs für “The Dead” (69) hinaus jeweils einlässig am Text belegt. Gelegentlich irritiert ein allzu direkter Anflug biographischen Interesses. Denn was die Arbeit in provokanter Textgenauigkeit für Joyces Œuvre zeigt, ist nicht so sehr rastloses Leben, sondern lebensbegleitende, lebensbe/ erschreibende Textualität als unstillstellbaren, endlosen Prozess: ein zeitgleich für Conrad, Proust, James, Woolf, Gide, Musil, Kafka reklamierbares - und reklamiertes - Schreiben ohne Ende. Von hier aus öffnen sich Fenster zu Fragen des Imaginären, zu Konterdiskursivität, zu Äquivalenz, Alterität, zu Skepsis und zu ‘Literatur’ allgemein. All diese Wege geht das Buch nicht mehr; gleichwohl ist es fortan der Joyce-Forschung hierfür unumgängliche, unleugbare solide Basis. Andreas Mahler Institut für Englische Philologie Universität München Rüdiger Heinze, Ethics of Literary Forms in Contemporary American Literature (Villigst Perspektiven. Dissertationsreihe des Evangelischen Studienwerks e.V. Villigst, Band 6). Münster: Lit Verlag, 2005. Thomas Austenfeld Rüdiger Heinze offers his readers the opportunity to approach works by contemporary fiction writers Paul Auster and Don DeLillo, dramatists Tony Kushner and Suzan- Lori Parks, and poets John Ashbery and Jorie Graham through the lens of formal, genre-based ethical criticism. Heinze’s project is ambitious in several ways: contemporary texts do not, at first glance, obviously lend themselves to ethical criticism, and the ethical implications of formal features of the traditional genres fiction, drama, and poetry are by no means self-evident. But this is precisely Heinze’s point. As “the formal presentation of literary texts has ethical consequences” (11), writers make ethical choices by choosing a form and thereby imposing ethical obligations on their readers. The book comprises 189 pages, including 21 pages of bibliography. Five chapters, evenly balanced in length, structure the argument as follows: chapter one introduces the terms of the debate, establishes the working hypothesis suggested above, justifies the formalist reductions of the approach, and discusses the choice of texts. Chapters two, three, and four, each numbering roughly 40 pages, discuss each of the familiar genres in turn, focusing on point-of-view questions in the fiction chapter, staging and setting in the drama chapter, and imagery and syntax in the poetry AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 357 chapter, each time eliciting the ethical questions Heinze believes are raised by the choices writers make. A seven-page concluding chapter proposes “potentials and limits” - the chapter heading is one of the few moments in the text where Heinze’s solid idiomatic grasp and elegant prose have lapsed; “potential and limitations,” though failing to achieve the desired parallel plural, strikes this reviewer as more appropriate. The opening chapter situates the present work in the history of ethical criticism that has been generated since the “ethical turn” was first diagnosed in the 1980s. Heinze’s thorough philosophical training allows him to make sharper and more precise distinctions than those made by many other practitioners in the field of literary ethics. Over against “the major bulk of ethical criticism - in all its varieties - [which] looks at the life worlds presented by literary texts, characters’ values and conduct, values in general, moral conflicts and developments depicted in the story” (10), Heinze attempts to eschew even the whiff of moralism or dogmatism by reducing his investigation to formal features, especially “elements heightening the selfreferentiality and metafictional aspects of a text” (37), which leads him almost automatically to postmodern sources. He is right, of course: Wayne Booth’s reappropriation of Aristotelian virtue ethics, Martha Nussbaum’s preference for high culture à la Henry James, Paul de Man’s posthumously revealed personal failings overshadowing his critical claims, and even J. Hillis Miller’s deconstructive Ethics of Reading all set the critic into a direct relationship with what he or she criticizes and emphasize the personal investment of the critic in her or his task, which can turn criticism into an ideological enterprise in the widest sense. Heinze has read all the recent work in the field including the interesting German philosopher Marcus Düwell. The only surprising omission is John Gardner’s On Moral Fiction of 1978. By contrast, then, Heinze proposes to seek and find ethical relevance in ideologically uncontested features - formal attributes - of his chosen texts. These attributes turn out to be richer for some genres than for others. Chapter 2, devoted to fiction, contains an extended discussion of Paul Auster’s New York Trilogy as well as of DeLillo’s The Body Artist. Heinze takes his readers at length through the abysses of consequences that result from Auster’s play with narrative perspective and from the incessant selfand cross-referential practices of the three parts. However, the ethical questions that emerge from the discussion are not obvious and their answers even less so. Heinze asserts: “Fiction does not try to convince by way of logical arguments; instead of hiding the unequivocalness of language, it reminds readers of their complicity in trying to reduce the unequivocalness of language. This is what makes it ethical” (51). Readers will likely take issue with this assertion, since it appears to reduce the ethical properties of fiction to its exuberant language without really stating how an ethical appeal so constituted could be proven to be either intentional or efficacious. When he does draw conclusions, Heinze finds that “[o]ne has to fashion oneself in order not to lose oneself. That is an ethical imperative” (65). While contemporary fiction can perform such an office, it seems marginal compared to other functions of fiction - and perhaps easily reduced to insignificance under such pressures as marketing, trendiness, and the mise-enscène of the authorial self. Heinze’s analysis of Kushner’s Angels in America¸ in the drama chapter that follows, is revealing and original, which in itself is an accomplishment given the vast Rezensionen 358 literature surrounding this still controversial work. Focusing on the stage directions that precede the text, Heinze shows that the multiple character assignations across gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity, religion, etc. effectively undermine the reader’s (not necessarily the theatergoer’s! ) facile assumptions about identity, directly linking the staging to the ethical parameters constructed by communities, as discussed by Foucault, Ricoeur, and Butler (see 93). For Heinze, the insight that “no one is alone,” which results from the play’s dramatic structure, is one of its most powerful ethical messages (see 100). But in his “Conclusion” (104-105) he again relies too much on others, here Bigsby and Foucault, instead of drawing out the impressive consequences of his own critical stance. Suzan-Lori Parks’ own comments on the importance of form to her plays (see 108) allow Heinze to address formalist-ethical questions in this recent dramatist’s work. He shows how Parks’ technique of doubling and repetition, a fugue-like method she herself calls “the Jazz esthetic,” offers myriad ethical choices of which no single one is obviously privileged, and in that egalitarian refusal lies the playwright’s original ethical challenge. With the discussion of poetry in chapter four, Heinze enters the strongest portion of his work. Poetry is so obviously indebted to form and so sensitive to formal challenge that its ethical import is addressed by even the most minimal changes, be it a comma, a line break, or “the replacement of one word” (121). In a curious aside, because poetic innovation is by now almost a contradictio in adiecto, all experiments having already been performed, Heinze presumes that “here the correlation between literary forms and ethics is especially difficult” (123), but I, for one, see no need for this world-weary assessment. In approaching John Ashbery, Heinze assembles a chorus of critical voices all of which have used the formal aspects of Ashbery’s work in relation - however constituted - to their content. By contrast, Heinze proposes to consider “the poetic formal devices as anterior, as the preconditions for the conveyance of themes and motifs and as the ‘testing of existential possibilities’ of ethical predicaments” (126), especially in the title poem of And the Stars Were Shining. One result of Heinze’s conviction that Ashbery’s poetry is not solipsistic - pace the majority of critics - is the insight that its social connectedness constitutes its key ethical dimension. With that admission we have re-entered the ethical life-worlds Heinze originally wished to exclude. Notwithstanding, in an assessment that in certain sections could also be applied to Heinze’s book itself - see the plethora of unanswered questions on pages 79-80, 94-95, and 115 - the author states that “Ashbery’s poems never go so far as to suggest a solution to the problems they address” (137). Jorie Graham’s Materiality turns up one of the most fruitful investigations conducted by Heinze. Ingeniously reading the table of contents and notes, formal features of the volume, Heinze shows how ethical questions of genre, canon, materiality, and language are effectively raised in the presentation itself, before one even reads the poems (see 150-151). His conclusion, then, that upon investigation “the poems’ concerns will reveal themselves to elaborate poetically and philosophically what the forms prefigure” (160) rings true here more than for any other section of the book. Heinze’s concluding chapter reconnects ethical formalism with the lived world, as he invokes the 2001 movie Memento to illustrate how narrative form, here used to subvert chronology, can have ethical consequences in inducing a viewer’s need for Rezensionen 359 empathy with the protagonist’s fate, in this case a severe short-term memory loss. The conclusion also reasserts that formal criticism as practiced here is less likely to be ideologically misappropriated than content-oriented criticism. The entire dissertation, well documented and clearly structured as well as largely focused around its governing questions, makes for inspiring and thought-provoking reading. Besides the especially strong portion on Jorie Graham, what stays in the reader’s memory is particularly the intelligent discussion with Nussbaum, Booth, Shusterman, et al. in the opening chapter. This discussion is worth being more widely disseminated in the English-speaking world, where this book should face a welcome reception if the publisher can market it appropriately. For such a wider readership, though, the presence of complex quotations in German may prove a hindrance. In addition, further proofreading is required (a discussion strikes a “chord,” not a “cord,” 85) and key theses would need to be further clarified: the study’s concluding sentence, “[i]t is in scrutinizing the inexhaustible riches of literary forms and appreciating their ethical dimensions that one can do justice to the unique nature of literature and the ethical import it has always had” (167), may veer, for some, too close to tautology. Thomas Austenfeld English Department University of Fribourg Gregor Schrettle, Our Own Private Exodus: Gwen Shamblin’s Dieting Religion and America’s Puritan Legacy. Essen: Die Blaue Eule, 2006. Manfred Kopp Schrettle’s highly original, very informative, and thoroughly researched study deals with the work of the evangelical weight-loss author Gwen Shamblin. Deploying a carefully construed, historically perspectified, and consciously self-critical cultural studies approach to elucidate the underlying meanings of the American imperative to be thin, Schrettle also very successfully explores how Shamblin’s sometimes rather bizarre discourse can be understood as a typical expression of the way America understands herself. The actuating principle behind these interrelated processes rests on the particularly symbiotic relationship between United States culture and religion, a relationship that, according to Schrettle, is uniquely exemplified in Shamblin’s writings, “because nowhere else are the issues of fat and faith combined with in [sic] each other in such an intricate way” (11). Notwithstanding this intricacy, Schrettle manages to put Shamblin’s teachings in a nutshell when summing up that it is “her theory that most heavy people are overweight because they attempt to compensate for spiritual emptiness by overeating. She recommends her readers to turn to God, arguing that God alone is able to fill this AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 360 emptiness. If they follow this advice, weight loss will follow almost automatically” (11). Shamblin’s god, though, is not just a given Christian deity, but, rather, her own version of this numinous entity, which is why, in 1999, she and her husband David felt called upon to found their own church, the Remnant Fellowship. Together with her “multimillion-dollar company” (190), the legally separate but ideologically strongly intertwined Weigh Down Workshop, this church, which “has often been described as possessing all the typical problematic characteristics of a religious cult” (39), has made Shamblin a very wealthy woman. The fact that Shamblin is female can be seen as psychologically important, because most of her followers are women as well. Schrettle opens this part of the discussion by quoting from a recent survey according to which many American girls “‘were more afraid of becoming fat than they were of cancer, nuclear war or losing their parents’” (48). And he draws a very interesting parallel when he infers that, in the United States, “the pursuit of beauty can thus be equaled to the pursuit of happiness that the Declaration of Independence famously mentions” (48). However, what may appear strange or moot reveals its shocking significance when he also explains that “current statistics still report that more than 90 per cent [sic] of the cases of severe eating disorders (especially bulimia and anorexia nervosa) are girls and women” (50). Utilizing a poststructuralist perspective to investigate how, “[i]n the area of body ideals, […] the manifestations of social behavior and interaction reflect the way the underlying power is distributed” (53), Schrettle skillfully connects this Foucauldian approach to the writings of Gwen Shamblin and to her strong “emphasis of the importance of female submissiveness and her deeply engrained conviction that women have to be thin and pretty” (65). Historically, though, thinness was not always tantamount to prettiness or attractiveness. This becomes obvious when Schrettle talks about the beginnings of the dieting movement in the United States, where, prior to the 1880s, “doctors and researchers everywhere were convinced that a certain degree of corpulence was absolutely advisable as it served to protect the body from various contagious diseases” (72). In the following years, this gradually began to change, so that a person like the voluptuous and formerly very popular American actress Lillian Russell could at one point no longer serve as a model for female attractiveness, while “[t]he fragile, almost wraith-like French actress Sarah Bernhardt, who had been called ‘ugly’ on her first visit to the United States in 1880, was praised for her virtuous, chaste beauty when she visited again in 1900” (73-74). This example is an excellent illustration of the aesthetic paradigm change at the end of the nineteenth century, but the ideological basis for this development was laid much earlier. By having recourse to the writings of John Winthrop, William Bradford, and others, Schrettle makes clear to what extent seventeenth-century North American culture was based on religion. He then argues that modern times and increasing secularization led to “considerable shifts in the underlying meaning of this culture” (107), but that “much of its original structure was left intact” (107). Schrettle goes on to explain that also this internally modified culture had to fulfill certain “social functions” (108), such as “control and selection” (108) - which he views as “remarkably similar to those formerly performed by the different components of the religious corset that had shaped almost all aspects of the Pilgrims’ lives” (108) - and that - and here he is perhaps a bit too unspecific - “[e]xcessive weight in a person has thus come to Rezensionen 361 be understood as an abominable violation of a (new) social code that is felt, if only subconsciously, to function as a type of glue holding the society together - or, in other words, as civil religion” (108). Schrettle thinks that this civil religion can be seen as a sort of Rousseauvian social contract, and that the most problematic part of this secular faith is that anybody unable to conform to its aesthetic ideals suddenly finds himor herself in an outsider position, which has led to the consequence that nowadays “[f]at people are regarded as a potentially dangerous threat to the fate and status - or, formerly, salvation - of the entire community” (108). In the seventeenth century, many of the then new communities in North America were based on Puritanism. After quoting Max Weber, Perry Miller, Sacvan Bercovitch, and others, Schrettle establishes a very interesting parallel between this theological doctrine and Gwen Shamblin’s dieting religion when he argues that the only difference between both concepts is “that the incentive she employs to get people aboard and turn them into believers is not the prospect of wealth but of slimness” (135). He then continues to clarify that, “[i]n both cases, religion is functionalized and serves to help its adherents pursue, to some degree, their own ulterior objectives. Instead of simply observing the traditional requirements of their religion handed down to them from earlier generations, more and more people begin […] to devote attention to the strictly utilitarian aspect of religion and use it for their purposes” (135). Schrettle puts the almost revolutionary character of this situation in a historical perspective when he points out that, “[a]t the time of the Puritans, this was a relatively new phenomenon. Until then, it had been primarily political leaders and thinkers who had been interested in the aspect of the practical usability of religion […] whereas the popular approach to religion had usually been marked by faithful obedience and subordination” (135). More often than not, this popular approach to religion had also been marked by asceticism. Schrettle draws yet another important connection between Puritanism and dieting when he talks about the difficult relationship between such an asceticism - which he views as “a firmly established constitutive element of collective national consciousness, of modern civil religion” (151) in the United States - and consumerism. Thus he argues that, at the beginning of the twentieth century, “American culture was not ready to accept consumerism as a new universally valid approach to life without any counterbalance. Cultural logic clearly required a force that would fulfill a function of control and restraint again, and thus maintain the moral equilibrium” (151). However, in a time of increasing industrialization, mass production, and rapidly growing affluence, such a powerful and effective cultural force was hard to find. According to Schrettle, it was in this socioeconomic context that the importance of dieting and thinness gained momentum, that “[t]he attack on fat was apparently perceived as an appropriate means through which the nation felt it could keep up, in modified form, the Puritan tradition and heritage” (152). As mentioned above, considerable parts of this Puritan heritage can still be observed today. Moreover, in contemporary North American society, dieting and slimness serve yet another important purpose. Working on the assumption that “the diversification of modern society has resulted in an erosion of common values” (158), Schrettle is sure that “[i]n an otherwise morally unstable and confusing cultural environment, the omnipresent preoccupation with body weight and diet serves as a vital point of orientation” (158). In addition to this, he also refers to a personal inter- Rezensionen 362 view with Christian dieting expert and cultural historian Marie Griffith, who thinks “that most American presidents and other politicians feel obliged to go jogging or lose weight in other ways because this increases their trustworthiness and helps them improve their moral status in the eyes of the public” (158). That said, Schrettle succinctly infers that “dieting and the thinness imperative have found entrance into the realm of US civil religion at a time when the traditional ethical consensus is declining continuously” (158). On the frequently interrelated levels of logical coherence and aesthetic expression, such a decline can be reflected in ambiguity and contradiction. Schrettle convincingly shows how both of these stylistic phenomena are present in Shamblin’s writings. Her work is ambiguous because, on the one hand, her highly selective interpretation of the Bible mirrors her very conservative understanding of the relationship between husband and wife (24), parent and child (42), and citizen and government (42), but on the other hand, there is also “a destabilizing, countercultural quality to be detected in Shamblin’s texts” (195), since “[s]he repeatedly expresses her conviction that secular culture is deficient, notwithstanding the fact that in the case of the United States it is based on religion to an extraordinarily high degree” (195). Furthermore, Schrettle discloses some other contradictions in Shamblin’s writings when he argues that “[s]he advises her followers not to worry about calorie counting - and yet, she tells them that they are not saved if they weigh more than a largely arbitrarily defined cultural ideal prescribes” (200); when he criticizes how “[s]he points out that many people overeat in order to compensate for of [sic] a lack of emotional perspective - but claims that all people are slaves and that obedience is the summum bonum” (200-201); or when he states that “[s]he teaches her readers how to eat M&Ms - although she wants to pull them away from the world” (201). From all this, Schrettle finally concludes that “Shamblin uniquely exemplifies and embodies some of the paradoxical tendencies so characteristic of her cultural milieu” (201) and, as he also shows, of North American culture in general. Reading Our Own Private Exodus is a great opportunity to achieve a better understanding of this culture. Unfortunately, though, any review of the book would be incomplete without also mentioning its problems. One of them is that the mottoes at the beginning of each chapter have no detailed references. Another one is the work’s structure. Thus the text contains too many cross-references and repetitions, and the conclusion (158-201) is far too long and offers a lot of information which would have belonged to previous chapters - as when Schrettle talks about the female body and female dieting (158-178), which would have made more sense in chapter 3, “Being Thin Is a Cultural Imperative - Feminist Perspectives” (47-66). Moreover, the study suffers from a couple of typographical errors - “predispotion” (37) instead of ‘predisposition,’ “exodus motive” (43) instead of ‘exodus motif,’ “Camilla Paglia” (64) instead of ‘Camille Paglia,’ etc. - and an index would have been helpful too. These, however, are minor points of criticism that certainly do not diminish the value of Schrettle’s highly readable book, which clearly deserves a much wider audience, preferably on both sides of the Atlantic. Manfred Kopp Paderborn Rezensionen 363 Heike Schaefer, Mary Austin’s Regionalism. Reflections on Gender, Genre, and Geography. Charlottesville and London: Univ. of Virginia Press, 2004. Arno Heller Mary Austin (1868-1934) was one of the most prolific regional writers and cultural critics in the US in the first three decades of the 20th century. As a feminist and environmentalist writer and expert in Native American and Hispanic cultures in the Southwest she published about 30 books during her lifetime - novels, short stories, poems, essays, plays, an autobiography - and more than 200 articles. Moreover, she lectured extensively at American universities and in women’s clubs. She participated in Mable Dodge Luhan’s legendary artists’ colony in Taos in the 1920s and ‘30s and became engaged in organizing a revival of Native American and Hispanic arts in New Mexico. Despite all these achievements her fame declined after her death in 1934, and many of her books went out of print. During the last two decades, however, Austin’s work has experienced an amazing comeback in the wake of a renewed interest in regional and environmental literature. Heike Schaefer’s comprehensive and penetrating study of Austin’s regionalist aesthetics and politics is an important contribution to this revival. In her introduction Schaefer outlines her intention to investigate the various interrelated themes and practices in Austin’s works, such as feminism, literary regionalism and multicultural reformism. Moreover, by placing Austin’s thinking and writing in the context of the ecocritical and new regionalist debate of today she attributes to it a new topicality and relevance. Austin was deeply involved in cultural geography, or more specifically, in the American Southwest as a region of ethnocultural pluralism and intense environmental engagement, which she linked up with her own social, personal, and spiritual explorations. The focus of Schaefer’s investigations lies on Austin’s responses to the three main traditions of American environmental literature of her time: nature writing, women’s 19 th -century (local color) regionalism, and wilderness narratives. Schaefer analyzes representative instances in Austin’s works where these traditions meet, also including her unpublished letters, journals, essays and lectures. The first chapter, “The Land Sets the Limit”, defines the diverse aspects of Austin’s concept of regionalism in order to provide a basis for the ensuing in-depth studies of her individual works. As Schaefer shows, Austin’s cultural identity and aesthetic practice were geographically and regionally determined, but in a surprisingly contemporary way. Like the biocentric ecocriticism of today, Austin insisted “that the nonhuman environment not only invites and provokes human readings but also escapes, resists, and exceeds the comprehension of human readers” (43). With reference to Sue Ellen Campbell’s “The Land and Language of Desire” Schaefer, in view of Austin’s work, rejects the poststructural definition of empirical reality as a network of intertexts exclusively dependent on subjective human interpreters. To Austin “the nonhuman world also has an existence apart from human signifying systems” (43). In the next chapter she elucidates this by directing her AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 364 critical attention to the interplay between regional and nature writing traditions in Austin’s environmental non-fiction. A comparison of her desert essays in Land of Little Rain with Thoreau’s nature writing illustrates her indebtedness to the specifically Thoreauvian tradition of regional nature writing. Her constant blending of scientific, philosophical and biocentric perspectives sets her apart from the anthropocentric nature writers of her own time as well as from 19 th century women’s regionalism. Moreover, Austin’s insistence on the democratic purpose of science and the use of her own regional Southwestern experience for a strong social, ecological, and political engagement make her a forerunner of later environmental writers such as Aldo Leopold and Edward Abbey. The third chapter, “Sense of Place”, focuses on Austin’s narrators and characters, whose strong sense of place defines their regional identities. The sense of selfhood they develop in long-lasting processes of acculturation allows them to “live into their environment” (85). They have learned to adapt to a harsh and tragic desert environment by observing animals and plants (e.g. lizards and juniper trees) and thus have acquired a conceptual framework that is appropriate to their environment. In order to understand humanity’s place in a world that extends beyond the human, Austin applies a non-dualistic model in which the physical encounter with the environment and its aesthetic rendering are intricately interwoven. John Dewey’s Art as Experience serves Schaefer as a theoretical framework for this approach. She understands Dewey’s model of the interconnection of aesthetic experience and experimental art as an alternative to “the either/ or logic of both essentialist and radical constructivist explanations of the relationship between subject and world” (89). The narrator in The Land of Little Rain corresponds to this kind of aesthetic perception in her mystical awareness of nonhuman otherness. It is an experience that, as Schaefer concludes, distinguishes Austin from Emersonian transcendentalism and 19 th century romanticism. Austin’s narrators do not transcend nonhuman nature by means of intuition, but keep a close yet respectfully sustainable relation to it. The next chapter deals with Austin’s cultural feminism, tracing environmental degradation, human alienation from nature, war, sexism and racism to “masculinity run amuck” (113). In contrast to this, Austin identifies the feminine with a sense of natural order and balance and by this proposes an essentialist reversal of the dominant gender code of her time. The way Austin applies this gender aspect to regional and environmental politics once more sets her apart from nineteenth-century women’s regionalism. Austin’s novels Lost Borders and Cactus Thorn are basically feminist rejections of the male-oriented wilderness and frontier cult of the Progressive Era. The rebellious female characters in both novels advocate the insertion of female selfdetermination into a predominantly male domain. The two Paiute women characters in Austin’s stories “The Basket Maker” and “The Walking Woman”, whose strong sense of self-reliance, skilled craftsmanship, and environmental competence enables them to survive in a harsh desert reality, serve Schaefer as models for her ecofeminist perspective. Chapter 5, “Who Owns their Place”, discusses Austin’s regionalism as a political agenda and sociopolitical program. Many of her essays, novels and short stories Rezensionen 365 center around ecologically sustainable regional communities which derive their economic survival from a communal and collective effort. On a larger scale they project the vision of a regionalized and decentralized “Amerindian” (220) nation whose manifold regional cultures are rooted in their natural environments. The Southwest with its integration of Native American, Hispanic and Euro-American cultures and, more specifically, the “native village socialism” (148) of the Pueblo cultures, served Austin as a learning model for her regionalist utopia, paving the way to the “next great and fructifying world culture (190).” Unfortunately, Schaefer dedicates only half a page (149) to the influence of Mabel Dodge Luhan’s utopian artist colony in Taos, where the construction of a multiethnic Southwestern myth was intensively discussed by artists, writers, and intellectuals such as Willa Cather, Frank Waters, John Collier, D.H. Lawrence, Aldous Huxley, C.G. Jung, Robinson Jeffers, Anselm Adams, Laura Gilpin, Georgia O’Keeffe, and many others. A more detailed inclusion of this intellectual background could have given the book an even wider cultural-historical and cosmopolitan scope. Like Luhan and her famous guests, Austin rejected the forced assimilation of Native Americans in the Southwest and the rape of their land and natural environment. She supported the self-determination and cultural autonomy of the Pueblo Indians and later extended her multicultural and folkloristic activities by establishing the Indian Arts Fund and the Spanish Colonial Arts Society. The chapter ends with a discussion of Austin’s bildungsroman The Ford, whose protagonist, after going through a difficult learning process, finally accepts a communitarian regionalist concept. The last chapter, “Regionalist Conversations”, also traces Austin’s regionalist sense of place and communal ideas, though in a rather encyclopedic and repetitive way, recapitulating many of the aesthetic, feminist, environmentalist and multicultural “conversations” discussed earlier in the book. The chapter culminates in a discussion of Austin’s kaleidoscopic essays in her regional manifesto Land of Journey’s Ending, and of her folkloristic narratives in One-Smoke Stories and Lost Border Stories. In the “Conclusion”, however, Schaefer offers an excellent synopsis of her previous investigations: Austin’s future-oriented redefinition of regionalism as a participatory, environmentally grounded folk culture leaves behind earlier forms of regionalism and their often nostalgic and provincial reminiscences of a lost rural golden age. Austin recommends cultural regeneration, political transformation and socioeconomic change in the direction of a culturally and geographically diversified, ethnically pluralist America. In view of this Schaefer takes issue with the poststructural reduction of regionalism to a merely systemic and separatist understanding (e.g. Philip Fisher) at the cost of concrete geographic locations and place-based relations. By carefully working out the aesthetic complexities and practices in Austin’s work Heike Schaefer has achieved a very topical re-evaluation of a writer who has been unjustly underestimated and misinterpreted for too long. Schaefer’s final summary of Austin’s concept of regionalism almost reads like an outline of the New Regionalist endeavors of today: For Austin the regionalization of America involves the negotiation of diverse social positionalities, including regional, national, ethnic, gender, and class identities. The objective of Austin’s regionalist project, then, exceeds identity politics or the lobbying of particularized interests. In other words, Austin’s Rezensionen 366 1 Mit der chronologischen Gruppierung der Gedichte folgt die Herausgeberin einem auch in vielen anderen literarischen London-Führern herangezogenen und für den Leser/ die Leserin gut nachvollziehbaren Schema der Textreihung. Thematische Kriterien der Reihung hingegen werden etwa im Faber Book of London (Wilson 1993) herangezogen. regionalism is not regional in Fisher’s separatist sense. Moreover, the regionalism that Austin promoted has not only an egalitarian impetus but also an environmentalist agenda. She conceived of regionalism as a form of cultural practice and social organization that would redefine American culture in relation to its land base (213). Arno Heller Institut für Amerikanistik Universität Innsbruck Silvia Mergenthal (Hrsg.), Poetischer London-Führer. Englischdeutsch. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2006. Maria Löschnigg Die Faszination, die London seit dem ausgehenden Mittelalter auf Dichter ausgeübt hat, ist in zahlreichen Anthologien und literarischen Stadtführern eindrucksvoll dokumentiert worden. Diesen gesellt sich nun mit Silvia Mergenthals Poetischem London-Führer eine weitere kommentierte Sammlung London-bezogener Texte hinzu. Was aber macht den vorliegenden Band trotz der beträchtlichen Zahl verwandter Vorgänger zu einer besonderen Bereicherung des literarischen London-Diskurses? Zunächst hebt sich der Band schon durch seine Zweisprachigkeit von anderen literarischen London-Führern ab. Mergenthal übersetzt 19 der insgesamt 28 in der Sammlung enthaltenen Gedichte und Gedichtausschnitte selbst, wobei es ihr insgesamt sehr gut gelingt, die Diktion der jeweiligen Epoche sowie inhaltliche Komponenten und Stimmungen der poetischen Texte nachzuempfinden. Sehr ansprechend sind vor allem die Übersetzungen der zeitgenössischen Gedichte im letzen Teil des Bandes, der den semantisch stark beladenen Titel “Das Imperium schreibt zurück: Multikulturelle Identitäten im London der Gegenwart” trägt. Von den übrigen neun ebenfalls mit großer literarischer Sensibilität ins Deutsche übertragenen Gedichten sollen vor allem Horst Mellers beeindruckende Übersetzungen von John Betjemans satirischem Gedicht “In Westminster Abbey” sowie von Dylan Thomas’ Anti-Kriegsgedicht “A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London” hervorgehoben werden. Die 28 Texte erscheinen in sechs Abschnitte gegliedert, die wichtige soziale und historische Phänomene markieren, und “in der Abfolge ihrer Entstehung wiedergegeben [sind] 1 , um Traditionslinien englischsprachiger Lyrik nachzuzeichnen und AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 367 2 Über Trivia schreibt A.N. Wilson, der Herausgeber des Faber Book of London (1993: xviii), in Anlehnung an Samuel Johnsons berühmte Liebeserklärung an London: “A Man who is tired of Trivia must be tired of London.” intertextuelle Bezüge sichtbar zu machen” (10f.), wie die Herausgeberin in der informativen Einleitung erläutert. Neben sich wandelnden Gattungskonventionen können durch die weitgehend chronologische Anordnung der Gedichte auch die durch die Epochen wechselnden Wahrnehmungen der Stadt pointierter vermittelt werden. Die Herausgeberin beginnt ihren poetisch-historischen Stadtrundgang im Spätmittelalter, mit dem laut Mergenthal anonymen (vgl. 18), ansonsten jedoch zumeist William Dunbar zugeschriebenen Preislied “To the City of London”. Neben sehr bekannten Texten wie Edmund Spensers Prothalamion und John Drydens Annus Mirabilis (beide in Auszügen) finden sich im ersten Kapitel (“Eine Nation entdeckt ihre Hauptstadt: London im Mittelalter und in der frühen Neuzeit”) auch weniger bekannte Gedichte wie James Wrights “Phoenix Paulina” und Robert Herricks “His Tears to Thamasis”. Ausschließlich ‘Klassiker’ begegnen uns im zweiten Abschnitt, “Eine Hauptstadt entdeckt ihre Bewohnerinnen und Bewohner: London im 18. Jahrhundert”. Hier trifft man auf die “Stadteklogen” (126) Jonathan Swifts (“A Description of a City Shower”) und John Gays (Trivia) 2 ebenso wie auf das ‘romantische Kontrastpaar’ “London” (William Blake) und “Composed Upon Westminster Bridge” (William Wordsworth). “Glanz und Elend der imperialen Metropole: London im 19. Jahrhundert” heißt der dritte Abschnitt des Bandes, der - wie der Titel bereits ankündigt - mit dem in der Viktorianischen Ära eklatanten Gegensatz zwischen Arm und Reich spielt. Besonders treffend manifestiert sich diese soziale Kluft in Matthew Arnolds Sonettpaar “East London - West London”. Im darauf folgenden Kapitel, “London und die literarische Moderne: London bis zum zweiten Weltkrieg”, versucht die Herausgeberin unter anderem mit Gedichten wie Robert Bridges’ “London Snow”, Laurence Binyons “Fog” und Oscar Wildes “Impression du Matin”, “literarische Version[en] impressionistischer Wahrnehmungs- und Gestaltungstechniken” (13) mit einzubeziehen. Die Texte des fünften Abschnitts (“Der Blitz: London 1939-1945”) kreisen um die Auswirkungen des zweiten Weltkrieges auf die Londoner Bevölkerung, wobei vor allem in Edith Sitwells “Still Falls the Rain” und Dylan Thomas’ “A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London” der Fokus auf dem Leid der Zivilbevölkerung liegt. Am meisten Neues bringt die sorgfältige Auswahl der Gedichte zu den jeweiligen Kapitelschwerpunkten naturgemäß im letzten Teil, der den imaginären Raum London um die bedeutende Dimension des multikulturellen Zusammenlebens erweitert. So etwa dringen Bernardine Evaristo (eine englische Autorin mit afrikanischen Wurzeln) mit dem Versroman Lara (hier nur als kurzer Textauszug) und Grace Nichols, eine guyanisch-stämmige Dichterin, mit ihrem Gedicht “With Glenda in Brixton Park”, in den sensiblen Bereich der interkulturellen Verständigung ein. Weitere Vorzüge des vorliegenden literarischen London-Führers sind neben der Textauswahl und -übersetzung fünf fotografische Abbildungen, die im Bezug zu einzelnen Gedichten des Bandes stehen und auf die Darstellung Londons in anderen Medien verweisen, ein Quellenverzeichnis mit wertvollen Literaturhinweisen, die zum Weiterschmökern in Sachen ‘London’ anregen, sowie ein erhellender Kommentarteil. Letzterer bietet nicht nur relevante Informationen zu AutorInnen und Rezensionen 368 Werken, sondern stellt auch interessante Querverbindungen zwischen den einzelnen Texten her. Silvia Mergenthal, so lässt sich resümieren, spricht durch die bilinguale Ausrichtung ihres Poetischen London-Führers ein breiteres Lesepublikum an, als dies bei den meisten bisherigen London-Anthologien der Fall ist. Darüber hinaus setzt die Herausgeberin mit ihrer Textauswahl und ihrem kritischen Kommentar neue Akzente, die das Büchlein trotz der Konkurrenz ähnlicher Publikationen zu einem Muss für alle literarisch interessierten London-LiebhaberInnen machen. Auf jeden Fall weckt der attraktiv gestaltete und auch editorisch einwandfreie Band die Lust, (das imaginäre) London neu zu entdecken. Literaturverzeichnis Wilson, A.N. (ed.) (1993). The Faber Book of London. London. Faber & Faber. Maria Löschnigg Institut für Anglistik Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz Martin Holz, Traversing Virtual Spaces. Body, Memory and Trauma in Cyberpunk. (Anglistische Forschungen Band 368). Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 2006. Pawel Frelik The latest addition to the growing body of book-length critical investigations of cyberpunk, a sub-genre of science fiction which exploded in the 1980s and quickly garnered almost cult attention from SF readers and postmodern theorists alike, Traversing Virtual Spaces is an insightful and competent study which despite several minor glitches can prove to be extremely useful for readers and researchers interested in the subject. The main argument of this 277-page-long (including 11 pages of bibliography) study is hinged on the threefold connection Martin Holz perceives between virtuality and trauma. Firstly, virtuality may “control and neutralize potentially traumatic events and experiences” (21); secondly, virtual modes may be employed to simulate potentially traumatic incidents in order to produce a phantasmatic wish fulfillment; and thirdly, virtuality may engender its own specific and systemic trauma type, which the author labels “ontological trauma” (22) and which consists in the confusion and disorientation regarding the distinction between the virtual and the real to the point of existential insecurity. These three interdependencies are explored through close reading of a number of cultural texts commonly referred to as ‘cyberpunk.’ AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 369 After the initial statements and preliminary remarks, the volume opens with the exposition of the notion of trauma in psychoanalysis and cultural studies. The author here reviews the relevant parts of various psychological and psychoanalytical theories: Freud’s discussion of protective mechanisms against trauma; Lacan’s distinction between the Symbolic, the Imaginary, and the Real and their relation to the notions of trauma and jouissance; Žižek’s conception of trauma as the result of “the missed encounter with the Real” (42); and, finally, Deleuze and Guattari’s non-discursive logic of intensity. With all these names being the proverbial usual suspects, none of the points in this section is either disputable or irrelevant, but it must be noted that Holz’ summaries and selections are very competent and succinct, especially given the complexity and breadth of the fields addressed by the said theorists. The second half of the theoretical framework of Traversing Virtual Spaces is devoted to the theories of virtuality, the term which in this study is understood not only as referring to cybernetic or artificial spaces created by/ within computers but also to embodied, real-world presences which are culturally constructed and mediated. The two thinkers whose writings on virtuality constitute the backbone of the argument are Stanislaw Lem, whose writings, particularly Summa Technologiae, Holz considers to be “a groundbreaking landmark in the field of virtuality” (14), and Jean Baudrillard, whose postmodern perspective offers “the most advanced and most complex view” (14) of the subject. The second part of the study (roughly equal in length to the theoretical one) devoted to the readings of individual texts is further subdivided in accordance with the character of traumas discussed - either actual or virtual. A number of literary and cinematic texts serve to illustrate various aspects of these two types of trauma. Among trauma-related issues exemplified in cyberpunk fictions and movies are mechanization of bodies, multiple personality disorder, mnemonic manipulations, ontological trauma, and addiction to trauma. Several texts such as Pat Cadigan’s, William Gibson’s, and Philip K. Dick’s fiction or the movie eXistenZ make their appearance more than once, others - like Avalon and The 13 th Floor motion pictures - only once. All readings are of the roughly same length. As initially indicated Traversing Virtual Spaces does suffer from several glitches. The first of them is the main title itself, which fails to connect with the specific theme of the study and is, to a certain extent, misleading in its stress on space rather than body. Of course, its second part dispels any doubts, but one may still wonder about the compatibility of both segments of the title; given that the subtitle specifically names cyberpunk (as opposed to, for example, postmodern science fiction), the selection of some of the primary sources seems problematic. Philip K. Dick may have been frequently name-checked among cyberpunk’s spiritual godfathers but his solid presence among cyberpunk writers is a stretch. The same concerns Bruce Sterling’s novel Holy Fire, whose author is certainly known as the cyberpunk PR man and, occasionally, a cyberpunk writer, but whose inclusion pushes the definitional envelope (which was never very precise in the first place) of the sub-genre under discussion. Occasional stylistic awkwardness may have been easily eliminated if the manuscript had been proofread by a native speaker. Also, in a study of such complexity, an index would have been very useful. Finally, the extended theoretical grounding - simultaneously one of the major assets of the study - seems at times (but only at times) to be meandering while the place of particular theories in the more Rezensionen 370 general framework remains unclear. The impression that some notions are mentioned not because of their connection to the presentation of trauma but because of tentative links to the general discourses of virtuality and cyberpunk may not always be entirely true but, for instance, the placement of the sub-chapter devoted to Deleuze’s and Guattari’s logic of intensity in the trauma chapter is not altogether clear. Having said that, such occasional disorientation is more the result of the lack of reminders of what is being argued at the moment rather than that of the flawed argumentation itself. All these are, however, minor quibbles compared to the definite merits of the volume. The first, and the most obvious, of these is the depth of research manifested both in the bibliography and extensive references in the text itself. With several minor exceptions (e.g. Michael Benedikt’s seminal Cyberspace volume), the author has become acquainted with practically all relevant research while his readings and their application appear to be much more than cursory. A number of these secondary sources, particularly those preoccupied with constructions of virtuality, are canonical and quoted in practically every publication on the subject, so the presence of Baudrillard or Žižek is almost inevitable. In that context, however, particular praise is due for including Stanislaw Lem as an important early theorist and for the incisive analysis of his propositions. Lem’s importance to this particular field has been occasionally mentioned, but the prominent majority of (mostly) Anglo-American scholarship on literary and textual virtualities lionizes the French school. Holz’ decision to ground the whole book on Lem is beneficial for the overall argument. The same holds for the selection of primary sources. While the canonical texts of cyberpunk with the likes of Gibson’s Sprawl trilogy or Sterling’s Schismatrix make their appearance, Holz also analyzes a number of less frequently discussed but equally interesting texts. Among them are Pat Cadigan’s novels, Rudy Rucker’s Software, and such films as eXistenZ, The 13 th Floor, Avalon, or Strange Days. Some of these readings are more detailed than others, but all maintain a uniformly high quality. Although Traversing Virtual Spaces is by no means a flashy read (but then again, why should it be? ) and the style may be occasionally plodding, it is impossible to deny the competence and complexity of the analyses. Grounded in theory and densely peppered with quotations from primary and secondary sources, the study clearly demonstrates the depth and range of Holz’ readings. Because of its focus on the notion of trauma, the volume is also a welcome addition to science fiction studies, where psychoanalytical theory is still seldom used. This volume demonstrates that this can be applied with highly interesting results. Altogether, despite certain shortcomings, Traversing Virtual Spaces. Body, Memory and Trauma in Cyberpunk is a study worth reading for everyone interested in any of the key words of its title. Pawel Frelik Maria Curie-Sklodowska University Lublin Rezensionen 371 Iris Schmeisser, Transatlantic Crossings Between Paris and New York. Pan-Africanism, Cultural Difference and the Arts in the Interwar Years (American Studies Monograph Series 133). Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 2006. Thomas Claviez In the wake of Paul Gilroy’s pathbreaking Black Atlantic, numerous studies have been published that scrutinize what has become a research paradigm of its own: the transatlantic connections between the US, Europe, and the African continent. Schmeisser’s monograph constitutes a contribution to this burgeoning field, as it analyses the intricate interconnections, mutual influences and creative (mis)appropriations that have characterized this triangular field of tension. She focuses especially on the sometimes problematic mutual artistic fertilizations to be observed between the two capitals of the Negro Renaissance and the “crise negre,” New York and Paris, although the main thrust of her argument is devoted to the latter. At the center of attention is the concept of pan-Africanism, where the author distinguishes between a general pan-Africanism - conceived as a conglomerate of political and philosophical ideas and concepts - and Pan-Africanism writ large, which designates the actual political movement(s) dedicated to this cause. Schmeisser, however, states that it is her objective to “depart from conventional readings of pan- Africanism as a primary political movement - a theory of black nationalism and internationalism” and instead to “focus on the significance and function of culture in these constructions and how they are attached to a particular view of race and racism in political, historical and aesthetic constructions of ‘pan-African’ denominators” (9/ 10). After the introductory chapter, which outlines her approach as well as the field of study, the author pursues this project through four chapters, which trace the development of pan-African ideas (and their volatile as well as highly charged implications) from the end of World War I to their post-World-War-II revival at the first “Congrès International des Ècrivains et Artistes Noir” in Paris in 1956. This occasion serves as focal point to which the interwar developments provide both the ideological and aesthetic tableau, as well as the programmatic prelude, and to which the last chapter returns in form of a résumé. The second chapter covers the emergence and the cultural, historical and political background of Pan-Africanism both in Europe and in the US along the different agendas of the four Pan-African Congresses in Paris (1919), London, Paris and Brussels (1921), London and Lisbon (1923), and New York (1927). This chapter addresses an issue that sets the tone for the entire book, as it unravels how the roots of pan-Africanism - borne out of the perceived need to thematize white oppression from different settings (colonial, diasporic) and accordingly with different aims in mind - grow out of the call for “the self-definition and self-determination of peoples of African descent who recognized the commonality of the experience of social, political, and cultural oppression by either white American society or European colonialism because of their race” (30, author’s emphasis). Almost by default, then, the common experience of white racist oppression (based, as it was, on skin color) predefines, if AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 372 not predetermines, the discursive regime in which the concept of pan-Africanism is caught - at least at its outset. As the author shows, however, right from the start the different national contexts in which the respective “renaissances” take place - France and the US - elicit different strategies of action and perception. While the diasporic tradition of African-Americans gives birth to the internationalist and cosmopolitan politics of Alain Locke and W.E.B. DuBois (itself not free of “Eurocentric” taints), the French side is enmeshed in the colonial ideology of a “mission civilisatrice,” aimed at assimilation (on both the colonizers’ and the colonized side). The third chapter analyses the ideological problems, as well as the cross-fertilizations, of “art negre,” primitivism, and modernist white culture, as they unfold in the uneasy co-existence between a modernism intent to challenge the complacency of bourgeois culture by means of adopting the allegedly “primitivist” assets of black art, the project to forge an African American art aware of its “ancestral” roots (Locke), and a French colonialism bent to exploit the resources of its African colonies both materially and culturally, as well as to legitimize its “benevolent” colonialism. These different - sometimes mutually fertilizing, sometimes mutually exclusive - objectives are traced along the manifestations of the “vogue negre” that swept Paris, induced by the import of American Jazz on the one hand, the arrival of colonial art objects on the other. In the center of this chapter are the motivations and cultural politics of negrophile artists, curators, and art collectors such as Guillaume Apollinaire, Paul Guillaume, Albert Barnes, and Carl van Vechten. Schmeisser uncovers - through articles and correspondences between the driving forces of the “vogue nègre” - that, their doubtlessly good intentions notwithstanding, their rhetoric “suggests the fetishizing of the (borrowed) originality and authenticity of the African cultural Other, thereby endowing modernist art with a pluralistic-synthetic quality of artistic uniqueness” (57). Thus they affirm, as Schmeisser puts it, the suspicion that “‘colonial desire’ and its racialized obsession with black otherness constituted the cultural filter through which ‘art nègre’ was conceptualized in the early twentieth century” (61), and, if inadvertently, popularized “primitivist stereotypes and racist assumptions to which black artists and intellectuals responded with a variety of strategies” (103). If the third chapter shows pan-Africanism between colonial ethnologization and modernist aestheticization, the fourth chapter is devoted to the strategies of African and African American artists to uphold the idea of pan-Africanism and their attempts to rid it of stereotypes and assumptions. That this is by no means an easy feat to achieve is exemplified by the oeuvre of Alain Locke, whose sometimes inconsistent, if not outright contradictory variety of cosmopolitanism and cultural radicalism dramatizes the conceptual traps set up by the discursive regimes of the day. Locke’s work, in a nutshell, encapsulates the underlying - if hardly ever explicit - question that informs Schmeisser’s analysis: Can an ‘Other’ be conceptualized in a way that avoids both essentialism and syntheticism - especially in a context of a pan-Africanism whose political purpose and success seems to depend on such “generalizations”? This question becomes even more pressing in the fourth chapter on “Black Modernism and the Primitivist Reception of Jazz,” which tackles, among other aspects, the commercial success of, and craze about, American Jazz and especially Josephine Baker and her “danse sauvage.” Baker’s strategy is a striking example of the phenomenon that Homi Bhabha - whom Schmeisser also quotes - has termed postcolonial “mimicry.” Simultaneously caricaturing both the US-American tradition of Rezensionen 373 minstrelsy and catering to the (predominantly white audience’s) desire for the “primitive,” Baker’s hyperbolic performance takes the question of authenticity one step further: “By mimicking and mocking the primitivist expectations of her audience, Baker, at the same time, subverted, i.e., destabilized, the pattern of colonial dominance” (176). If, as Schmeisser claims, colonial art objects, by being fetishized, were appreciated, read, and commercially exploited out of their historical (authentic? ) context, then Baker’s dance on the one hand takes playful (but equally commercially motivated) de-authentification one step further; on the other hand, considered in her own historical context, her art is in itself “authentic” in that it exemplifies the eternal flux of cultural change and amalgamation. If she belongs, as the author claims, to those African American modernists who “were able to exploit creatively the ambivalent concept of ‘art nègre’ […] for their own ends by mimicking and resisting racist fabrications” (119), then this “exploitation” itself deserves some scrutiny, as white “exploitations” are not accorded the same leniency by Schmeisser, be they as “creative” - though as commercially minded - as Baker’s or not. If, as the author claims, to “accuse black modernists like Josephine Baker and Aaron Douglas of affirming racist stereotypes means decontextualizing their work from the history of race and racism in diaspora to which they were responding” (191), then to neglect this aspect is ahistorical as well; moreover, the same would then also have to apply to white négrophiles. All of this notwithstanding, the author meticulously and intelligently unravels the inherent paradoxes and contradictions that haunt both critical white and black intellectuals and artists, admitting to the inescapable grip of the discursive regimes and the colonial or diasporic power structures that these phenomena are embedded in. In the case of Jazz, this is reflected both in the white projections of its “primitiveness,” as well as the similarly problematic assumption of its being “indicative of a racially motivated pan-African cultural unity” (125). As Schmeisser shows, the fault-lines between an African-American diasporic experience and the expediencies of the French colonial context also apply to the phenomenon of Jazz as part of the Parisian “vogue nègre”: As it is imported from Harlem, the author convincingly shows, it is “marked by a playing down of the diaspora factor (Jazz as an expressive cultural formation of the diaspora) and by a corresponding exaggeration of its ‘African roots’” (137). This fourth chapter, however, is not only devoted to Jazz as a musical form, but also to its reflections in painting. The author offers analyses of artists such as Gwendolyn Bennett, Palmer Hayden, Archibald J. Motley, as well as informed insights into the entire black art scene of Paris at that time. Chapter 5 deals with the influence of African images in both anthropology and colonial art, tracing the discussion of the concept of “primitivism” in the realm of ethnology, most notably the works of Lucien Lévy-Bruhl and Franz Boas. Even in the works of ethnologists dedicated to a cultural relativism and a critique of the predominant evolutionary school of anthropology, residues of racist assumptions can be detected. Thus Lévy-Bruhl simply abstains (though not always successfully) from any evaluative judgment between “civilized” and “primitive” while upholding the distinction itself; Boas’ cultural relativism, in turn, proved to be quite influential for both Locke and DuBois. Against this background, the rest of the chapter offers a detailed discussion of the various art exhibitions in Paris - and the visual impact of “art nègre” in general - covering the “Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels” Rezensionen 374 of 1925, the highly influential “Exposition de la Croisière Noire” (an exhibition featuring the artifacts assembled by an expedition sponsored by Citroën) of 1926, and the “Exposition Coloniale Internationale” of 1931. This chapter - as, indeed, the entire book - is an example of archival cultural historical research at its best. Private correspondence of relevant artists and organizers, reviews, essays, exhibition catalogues, and interpretations of paintings and artifacts are woven together to create a picture of a transatlantic project - or rather, projects - that, despite their different agendas and unavoidable misreadings and misprojections, combined in their search for both a usable past and a feasible future, and resulted in a tumultuous and highly productive art scene trying to liberate itself from, but nevertheless remaining deeply entangled in, the discursive and political frameworks of colonialism and diaspora. These transatlantic - and by necessity, translingual - crossings are adequately captured by the effortless bilingualism of Schmeisser’s book, which still constitutes a rare asset, despite repeated demands from “internationalist” Americanists. The “post-colonial” view which, according to the author, informs her approach and the discussion of her material accounts for a sometimes lopsided view of the merits, motivations, and goals of the white and black artists involved in the pan-African project. The question whether difference - let alone radical otherness - can be discussed with complete avoidance of any essentialist, stereotypical or synthesizing implications or vocabulary is certainly one of the pressing questions that postcolonialist theory still has to provide a satisfactory answer for. Concepts such as “strategic essentialism” - to which the author resorts at one point as well - only poorly cover up the conceptual abyss between a moral-theoretical claim and the necessities and demands of politics. It becomes even more problematic when it is enlarged to a construct such as a “strategic essentialization of black otherness” (142). To evoke such or similar concepts, such as “a truly liberating aesthetics of otherness” (324), which Schmeisser traces back to René Ménil, and which ideally would avoid or overcome the discursive traps and ideological residues the book so impressively traces, applies a rather high - in fact, inadequate - yardstick. Difference, as the author quotes Bhabha, is indeed “always disturbed by the question of its re-presentation or construction” (293); it is, however, also disturbed by ethical axiologies that inform, if mostly unreflected, unacknowledged, and mostly unresolved, postcolonial discourse. If Transatlantic Crossings does not tackle these theoretical conundrums, it certainly offers a treasure trove of material to open up and enrich further discussions in this direction. Thomas Claviez Institute for Cultural and Linguistic Studies University of Stavanger Rezensionen 375 Günther H. Lenz, Friedrich Ulfers and Antje Dallmann (eds.), Toward a New Metropolitanism. Reconstituting Public Culture, Urban Citizenship, and the Multicultural Imaginary in New York and Berlin (American Studies - A Monograph Series 142). Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 2006. Petra Eckhard New York is and is not America. Berlin is and is not Germany. The city of (post-)modernity, so it seems, can only be defined in highly ambivalent terms, especially when it comes to its relation to the nation state. Due to recent processes of transformation, evoked by greater phenomena such as globalization and postfordism, the “world city” (13) has become a much contested space in terms of citizenship, social relations and the cultural imagination. These issues have prompted Lenz, Ulfers, and Dallman to investigate and compare two metropolitan cityscapes - New York and Berlin - which share the aspects of transnationality and cultural plurality on the one hand but which are, at the same time, highly distinct in terms of political and economic power structures. Many of the essays in Toward a New Metropolitanism originated in two multidisciplinary conferences which took place in New York and Berlin in 2000. Although the volume clearly shows that it is a product of the currently dominant ‘Berlin School’, the editors, by using international voices from various academic fields, succeed in presenting a multilayered account of two “exemplary loc[i] of cosmopolitanism” (18), thus echoing the variety of the debate. Using Thomas Bender’s concept of a “new metropolitanism” (53), the study approaches the two cities by analyzing what takes place within them at the turn of the millennium. The main argument centers on the emergence of a translocal form of urbanity that neglects homogenous urban communities (as brought forth, for example, by the principles of New Urbanism) and instead embraces a “new politics of difference” (15) that has the potential to recreate cultural and social heterogeneity. According to the editors, this new tendency, heavily discussed in European and American urban studies, calls for a “semantic reconfiguration of urban space” (23). At this point, it has to be noted, however, that Bender’s notion of a ‘metropolitanism’ is not totally new. Already at the beginning of the 20 th century sociologists such as Max Weber and Georg Simmel approached the (European) metropolis as a place of social differentiation and individual freedom. Two decades later, the ethnographic studies of Robert E. Park and Louis Wirth, both representatives of the famous Chicago School of Urban Sociology, also looked at the metropolis as a culturally heterogeneous space in which the self-conception of the urban individual represented a vital component for any objective sociological analysis. So what is it that constitutes the ‘newness’ of the contemporary metropolitan discussion? Bender’s programmatic essay “The New Metropolitanism and a Pluralized Public” provides us with an answer. Whereas in the early 20 th century the city was investigated sociologically as a definite and aggregate structure, divided into a city centre and its periphery, Bender advocates a “metropolitan regionalism” (54) that lies AAA Band 32 (2007), Heft 2 Rezensionen 376 beyond any social or spatial boundaries. Shifting the attention away from dichotomous understandings of the city, away from “the binary language of center/ periphery, city/ suburb, rich/ poor” (59), Bender envisions a city consisting of many different local publics which could make the metropolitan experience “far more cosmopolitan, even more egalitarian” (ibid.). However, Bender’s optimistic vision of a democratic life enabled by local public spaces is highly endangered by the effects that capitalism has had on the contemporary city. In the first essay of the volume, Richard Sennett convincingly illustrates that our flexible postfordist economy is gradually producing superficiality, not only in the city’s visual appearance but also in the urbanites themselves. The standardized and soulless architecture of office buildings and high-street chain stores, such as Niketown or Starbucks, as well as short-term labor conditions make it difficult and sometimes even impossible for urban subjects to get personally involved with the public sphere, and thus “creat[e] a regime of superficial and disengaged relations in the city” (46). Unfortunately, in his broad sketch of problems Sennett refrains from proposing possible solutions and merely concludes with the fact that capitalism “imposes on us a specific task: creating complexity and mutual attachment in a city […] in which people withdraw behind the walls of difference” (51). The contribution by Margit Mayer is also an attempt to highlight the difficulties of realizing a democratic urban landscape in socioeconomic terms. Looking at the cityscape of Berlin, Mayer argues that even so many years after the fall of the Wall, the city is still strongly marked by social dividing lines and therefore can no longer be seen as an antithesis to the polarized American metropolis. The fact that East and West are only unified in spatial terms does not only become evident in demographic statistics but also in the mental distance that especially Westerners have maintained. “What begins behind Alexanderplatz”, Mayer writes, “for them is not Friedrichshain, but terra incognita” (172). Another “line of division” (171) is one of socioeconomic interest. By creating new centers of tourist attraction and wealth in close proximity to low-income neighborhoods, for example, the public domain becomes more and more restricted to financially strong customers, thus antagonizing any form of a pluralized public. Ironically, the attempts of German politicians and urban planners to stop the “creeping Americanization” (179) are not expected to lead to an attractive inner city along the lines of a “new metropolitanism” (53). For example, the Planwerk Berlin was supposed to upgrade the inner city; but instead of raising the social housing funds the project realized the building of unaffordable luxury apartments that do not even attract high-income city-dwellers. Thus, concentrations of poverty are enforced and new social barriers implemented. The third part of the volume, opening with Rolf Linder’s “The Imaginary of the City”, radically shifts attention away from a political and socio-economic discussion and opens up the less rigid dimension of the city of the mind(s). Drawing on Henry Lefebvre’s point of view, namely that “space is lived and experienced by way of the accompanying pictures and symbols” (210), Lindner argues that a city’s character should be determined along the lines of its cultural representations and their meanings: A city is not a neutral container which can be arbitrarily filled, but a historically saturated, culturally coded space already stuffed with meanings and mental images. It is these meanings and images which determine what is ‘thinkable’ Rezensionen 377 and ‘unthinkable’, ‘appropriate’ and ‘inappropriate’, ‘possible and impossible.’ (ibid.) Thus, for Lindner urban space is first and foremost anthropological space, space created, experienced and imagined by urbanites. In this context, Friedrich Ulfers’ essay deals with maybe the most visual of New York’s “culturally [en]coded” (210) places: Times Square. Although some readers might at first gain the impression of being swamped with postmodern theory, Ulfers’ deconstructive approach leads to an interesting perspective. Following Derrida, he argues that the transformation of Times Square from a theatre district (i.e. a local public) into a chaotic neon landscape of illusion (i.e. a simulacrum) produced a certain “spectrality” (255). The spectral quality that is attached to Times Square, Ulfers argues, lies in the “the scrambling [of] the clear-cut opposition of sign and message” (256). Ulfers connects the Derridean logic of spectrality to the postmodern urban condition which, echoing Edward Soja’s idea of a “Thirdspace” (254), is one “that attempts to capture what is actually a constantly shifting and changing milieu of ideas, events, appearances and meanings” (253). A similar thematic territory, one that is by all means easier to approach, is entered by Wolfgang Kaschuba. In “Nowherelands and Residences: Recodifying Public Space in Berlin,” he reasons that due to recent political and social transformations, many public spaces of Berlin have extended and/ or changed their symbolic content. “Berlin today”, Kaschuba writes, “can be read as a spatial ‘disorder,’ confined in different texts with different meanings, coexisting without clear hierarchy” (237). The Brandenburger Tor, for example, has become a site that today fuses many different meanings. No longer only a national symbol of division and reunification, the gate has been transformed into a highly diverse platform for various urbanite interests. It is the dance floor for thousands of techno-fans during the Love Parade, the colorful market place of souvenir vendors, the venue of the central Millennium party but also the meeting point for hundreds of neo-Nazis demonstrating against the Holocaust memorial. According to Kaschuba, this “re-writ[ing]” (237) of public space shows that the city is lacking “a nucleus of shared interpretations and legitimizations of urban and local identity” (237). The city has not established a cultural consensus yet; however, Kaschuba argues that despite - or because of - this fact there is much potential to “recodify” (241) Berlin’s public landscape and infuse it with new symbolic meanings. The last focus of the volume lies on the “re-imagining [of] the cultural Metropolis” (269) and, in particular, on how the idea of cultural hybridity in the metropolis has been translated into the literary discourse. Günther H. Lenz’ essay, for example, deals with migratory fiction of the 1990s and thus provides insight into contemporary literary representations of “ethniCities” (399). The works he discusses differ considerably from traditional immigrant fiction because they “have asserted their own ‘agency’ and ‘voice’ in new modes of intercultural translations of a ‘(post-)metropolitan imagination’” (405). Iva Pekárková’s Gimme the Money (1996), for example, centers on the life of a young Czechoslovakian woman who, working as a cab driver in New York, struggles to come to terms with “manifold contacts, clashes, miscommunications, and exchanges between migrants” (424) and at the same time tries to develop her own “hybrid identit[y]” (425). Lenz’ convincing examples extend the traditional minority discourse of separation and assimilation because they annihilate fixed categories of Rezensionen 378 race and thus “pursue the ever new processes of intercultural, transnational interactions as radical divisions of the meaning(s) of America” (448). All in all, this collection of papers gives new impetus and enriches the field of contemporary urban studies as it investigates two cities from the viewpoint of social sciences, including (cultural) history, sociology, politics, literature and other media. Due to the volume’s pluralistic character, the methodological and thematic focusing has been neglected; however, the (post-)metropolis seems to reveal most of its secrets when being discussed in a disparate manner. By surmounting the aglossia between New York and Berlin, the editors have succeeded in presenting a valuable study that, also on a meta-level, contributes to Bender’s optimistic vision of a “new metropolitanism.” (53) Petra Eckhard Department of American Studies Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz, Austria