Carrol says below that "The only truth to be found in_any poem/fiction
is the truth the reader brings to it. The text is dumb and asserts
nothing."

This reminds me of what I said about abstract art in criticizing the
Randy art critic the other day.  Different people see different things
in abstract art.

CB

http://mailman.lbo-talk.org/pipermail/lbo-talk/Week-of-Mon-20100111/000486.html

 Art and Ontoloby Lincoln Gordon, he dead
Carrol Cox cbcox at ilstu.edu
Fri Jan 15 17:33:21 PST 2010

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It seems we are getting into the question of the relation of art to
truth about the world. The claim being made by Michael (which I
paraphrase very cruvely and unfairly) is that The Heart of Darkness
lies, and for that reason as literature is defective. (Michael then
disagrees with Sidney that the poet does not lie becasue he does not
affirm, but that is not my argument here, though I think it valid.) I
want to affirm something stronger: The only truth to be found in_any
poem/fiction is the truth the reader brings to it. The text is dumb
and asserts nothing. (Later in this post I will be arguing that, even
or especially from a political perspective, Birth of a Nation was one
of the most wonderful films ever made.)
I quote from a post on the Milton-L list from about a year ago:

****** Yes. literature must be about something. But (1) I presume you
are not going to ask something to be ontological, that literature
provides and internally justifies truthful statements about the real
world itself. Does Hell really have burning lakes, or Paradise a real
tree of life? I think (2) that we decide on the something as a first
act of interpretation, not as an outcome, particularly about a work
with as vast a compass as Paradise Lost. We may be interested in Eve
and patriarchy (the something), then read relevant passages of the
poem and other opinions to decide for ourselves what we think the poem
has to say about Eve and patriarchy. As there are more than fifty
articles and one book on Eve (not all about patriarchy), with diverse
and incompatible conclusions drawn from the poem, it would be hard to
say that the poem itself produces a mimesis of Eve and patriarchy.
Instead, (3) as you observe through Gadamer, an interpretation
comprises (at least) the text, our interests in the text (not drawn
from the text itself), and within those interest various beliefs that
we bring to the poem. Those interests must influence our
interpretation, provide content to the interpretation, and (more often
than we would like to admit) direct and may provide all of the
material of an interpretation. How do we read He for God only, she for
God in him? Well, it depends. If we decide it is not ironic, then it
may become either a claim for the actual relationship between men,
women, and God (with the usual biblical citations), or a statement of
female oppression (with various real-world treatments of women
quivering in the background). If we decide it is ironic, (it is seen
through Satans eyes, after all, and the narrator is not reliable),
then we begin a journey through the poem that has Eve resisting
patriarchy, or ironically defending patriarchy as a necessary
component of civil order. None of these can be justified by the poem
alone. I claim that (4) mimesis works in one direction, from the
reader to the poem, as a means of understanding and organizing the
interpretative process, but that mimesis does not work in the other
direction, that we learn from the poem on its own terms something
about the world. I believe a careful reading of Aristotles poetics
will reach the same idea, that fictions have necessary properties that
require mimesis to understand but preclude mimesis as a poetic
outcome.

Perhaps a classic formulation of the problem I mean can be found in
Kerrigans The Sacred Complex He says, The survival of literature as
anything more than an artifact depends on our ability to extend its
original reference into a genuinely revelatory description . . . of
the world we inhabit now. (p2) He then proceeds to self-consciously
read the poem through the lens of Freudian psychoanalysis. This is not
revelation, it is (very ingenious and interesting) imposition of an
external theory of the world. If anyone believes that the poem cannot
be made to confute rather than defend a Freudian view, they have not
been reading criticism latterly.

I realize this makes the justification of literature itself difficult.
If it does not teach us about the world, or make a better world (by
teaching virtue, or otherness, or any of the other things so many even
recent scholars have advanced in favor of beauty and instruction,
still the most common justification), or critique or defend our
cultural, moral, political order, or order our thoughts, or create a
consciousness (all of which may be considered mimetic), what does it
do? I do not know the answer to this question. It may have no answer
(rather like saying what poetry is). But it seems to [me] that
literature on its own revealing truths of the world cannot be one of
them. ********


Michael writes: "It is interesting. But I think the problem with
Conrad's book is actually much simpler and more profound. He wanted to
get at truth, and instead he produced mystification, when the truth
was right in front of his face."

It's been over a half century since I read the book. (It's interesting
that others have not read it in decades but can remember it. The
number of books I have read once over half a century ago and still
have some memory of is rather small.) What I remember mostly is the
French warship firing into the African continent. What I don't
remember is any indication in the text that Conrad was trying to get
at the truth, or even any indication of what domain such truth, if
aimed at, would exist in: politics, human memory, ethics, truth and
personal relations, etc. It would seem obvious to me, though, that it
would be the reader who would select that domain and read the text
within that context. Michael read it within the context of "Looking
for the Truth of Leopold's Congo." Not finding it in Conrad's text,
and assuming that Conrad's aim must have been his, he sees the text as
a moral and political, and thus literary, failure.

Sorting out my few remember fragments of the text, I tend to see it's
'domain' as somehow to be found in the relations between Marlowe and
that warship on one had, Kurtz's 'intended on the other hand. (That
is, I see Marlowe as central, no more related to Conrad than Clarissa
to Richardson or Stendhal to Fabrizio.) A lot would have happened on
that voyage, and Marlowe's tale, we assume, is a selection of all
those many happenings, among them that ship firing into that immense
continent. It throws an air of futility over the whole of the
narrative. (NOTE: this _does_ mean that the text exhibits a sort of
imperviousness to the immense human tragedy that forms its matter but
not its subject.] It also introduces truth itself as one thread in the
narrative, for the observerss can see the puffs of smoke, hear the
ships guns, but (if I remember after all these years) the reason for
that firing is unknown, and this lack of knowledge is I think noted in
the text. Those who have read it more recently can correct me on this.
So Conrad is playing with a rather offensive 19th-c cliche, the "dark
continent," the "unknown" (to Europeans) continent. His very title is
a cliche, a deliberate one I presume. Marlowe penetrates into the
heart of Africa which in European myth is the heart of darkness.
Darkness conceals. And the decision Marlowe has to make at the end
(and no other character in the stoyr has any decisions to make) is
what to tell the intended. He lies, but by this time there are so many
unanswered questions that anything he might say is equally a truth and
a lie.

But by bringing in the intended, Conrad glances at the most usual form
of the tale at the heart of "The Novel" from Richardson on: Two
strangers meet (they might nominally have known each other all their
lvies, but they are strangers nevertheless) and they either do or do
not form a social relation where none existed before. And this Master
Plot is duplicated by the relationship formed (or not formed) by the
meeting of implied author and implied reader. And the most ordinary
form of it is to be found in the work to which the rest of English
(even European) literature is a s eries of footnotes: Paradise Lost,
in which boy meets girl (Book 8), boy loses girl (parting at the
beginning of Book 9), boy gets girl back (the first fallen fucking),
boy loses girl (they blame each other), boy gets girl again at last.
The narrative of Kurtz and his intended, like the narrative
surrounding the French warship, is left untold and unknown to Marlowe.
What was its truth? What was the truth of the warship's guns? (The
'girl' can, of course, be an abstraction: in Absalom, Absalom it is
The South.) I can't develop this farther because it's been too long
since I read anyof the texts in which Marlowe is central as he is in
Heart of Darkness.

Conrad, then, can formally disapprove of imperialism without in the
least denying himself the storehouse of imagery provided by the
history of European ravaging of the world. And that is just a fact,
not either a truth or an untruth, and if the reader wants the novel to
provide political truth, then the reader needs to provide it throguh
an historial analysis of that fact. It is after all not the truth that
Leopold was a bad guy that is important now: it is understanding of
our enemy, and this reduction of the world to a storehouse of imagery
with which to tell the tale of the "abstract - isolated - individual"
in all its possible varieties is certainly one rather important
aspect. And that is a "truth search" which could lead us interestingly
back to the present. But that is another concern.

Carrol

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