I'll begin with a small connection between this week and last week's readings:
D.F. McKenzie notes that "the book, in all its forms, enters history only as an evidence of human behavior, and it remains active only in the service of human needs" (McKenzie 223). This is not the only moment within his article that McKenzie makes reference to the impact that society has on the form of the book/the substance of bibliography. Immediately I am reminded of last week's debate between Adams/Barker and Darnton. Obviously, this issue is worth a continued conversation as we (I) gain more knowledge about all of the varied perspectives on bibliography/book history and its maturation, evolution, and fluctuation.
On the subject of fluctuation, McKenzie's text (published in 1999) reminded me of Bolter and Grusin's Remediation (2000) - one passage in particular from the introduction, "No medium today, and certainly no single media event, seems to do its cultural work in isolation from other media, any more than it works in isolation from other social and economic forces" (Bolter, Grusin 15). Because I just checked, McKenzie is not referenced anywhere in Remediation - nor did I expect him to be - but what's of interest is the insight into the scholarly conversation that spans two disciplines/research interests so closely related and yet far enough apart that they do not touch one another's work. What's more, Bolter and Grusin spend very little time discussing books/manuscripts in their text and at many points it seems that the book (as form) is almost assumed to be part of this expansive history of remediated forms (especially as they themselves work to remediate it by adding "hyperlinks" throughout the text).
Ultimately, I have to say that I am completely taken by any perspective on media that encourages and upholds its flexibility and the astounding impact that society has on form. I have always been drawn to (what appear to be) wild claims about the nature of media - it's what lured me in to graduate study. And even I will admit that the distinction between "bibliography" and "book history" seemed acceptable to me until reading McKenzie's take on the matter - now I just want to see everything as ephemeral and malleable all at once! I kid - an "lol," if you will.
I pose a question for those who might care to offer their take: Quite frankly, what are the implications of losing/stretching "forms" so much so that the entire notion is distorted? We have touched on this before, but with the new readings added to our knowledge-base this week, what would we stand to gain (if anything) from a purist (for lack of a better term) position on the form of a book? Interpret this so-called "purist" position however you may, I wonder what the affordances are of a perspective that draws a proverbial line in the sand between book and, well, "everything else."
Two unrelated things:
1) I made other observations this week that I'm not too interested in writing about here, but I'll mention them to see if anyone else thought of this, too: While reading Chartier's account of the resistance to reading/writing as being part of an intellectual culture, was anyone else reminded of Obama's election and the months leading up to it? I recall *so much* anti-intellectualism growing around the country and becoming a large conversation in the political landscape at that time - perhaps even more so with certain Tea Party speeches I've heard, as well.
2) The historical account of "silent reading" and the attitudes toward is reminiscent (to me) of the anxieties that people express over computers/texting/online networking - that we are no longer communal due to these technologies. Silent reading as a technology (because I don't think it was really the book itself)? Fascinating.
"Much reading is an oppression of the mind" (167).
"If you spent so much time on Twitter, you'll forget how to talk to real people!" (My great aunt)
And this is just for fun:
Our readings this week reminded me Professor Higgens's great library in My Fair Lady... and of his amazing diction. :)
About Me
- Amy Danger
- Sterling Heights, Michigan, United States
- PhD in Rhetoric and Composition + Senior Lecturer in Composition at Wayne State University with a passion for education, health, and fitness (mental and physical). I teach writing, research composition, and blog about anything from teaching fitness, owning a small business, physical and mental health, to perspectives on body acceptance and body positivity.
In reference to the question about stretching forms to the point of distortion, I think a little stretching is always good. To the point of distortion is tricky, though. If, by distortion, we mean altering the field of study until it becomes nearly unrecognizable as itself, then that may not be very beneficial, particularly if it crowds another field of study by being too similar. Although, even that might depend on the nature of what the form is transforming or stretching from--in terms of unrecognizability. If its initial form was already "too narrow" to be effective or self-sustaining, then a bit of distortion, i.e. malleability, could only help. I do, on the other hand, think that there should be some line of demarcation, just not necessarily one that is so rigid as to prevent a sharing of methods. If any of that makes any sense.
ReplyDeleteA belated response re. Bolter and Grusin and the book: I critiqued their work (respectfully so, it's a work I admire) precisely for their lack of acknowledgement of print as a medium. See Maruca, The Work of Print, pgs 160-170 http://books.google.com/books?id=9z_lRAExQ0sC
ReplyDeleteI know it's bad form to self-promote, but I plead relevancy!