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America the Scrivener: Deconstruction and the Subject of Literary History
Can literary history be written after the deconstruction of "the subject"? In a bold and insightful response to that question, Jay looks at how recent work in philosophy, literary theory, Marxism, the New Historicism, African-American criticism, and gender studies has helped to redefine the relations between writing, history, and subjectivity.
342 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
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June 19, 2020
No More Books by White Male Upper-Class Writers! Except This One!
This 1990 book exemplifies the paucity of poststructuralist literary criticism, how poorly it has aged.
The opening pages teem with claims that are qualified and abstracted to the extent that they posit no debatable idea. The author disavows the normal tasks of criticism, promising no “definitive new interpretations” of American literature, nor a comprehensive engagement with recent theories of history and literature, instead saying it will explore connections between literature and theory (ix).
The author proudly boasts that he will not pretend to provide an overarching story about American literature, a “metanarrative,” and advises us that “we should abandon such stories in the nationalist agenda that they inevitably reinforce” (xi). The author claims that the book will explore the historiographic ideology “in which the nation represents itself to itself as a writing subject” (xi). This begs the question of whether writing about the nation as a single entity is an ideology. It also begs the question of how the author is defining the concept of ideology, crucial information without which we cannot judge the argument. An alternative claim would be that the idea of a unified nation is obviously fictional at some level, yet a fiction that we find useful and see the partial truth of. The concept of ideology suggests a worldview that cannot be seen past, but perhaps nationhood is not that, but is rather a symbol that we used to organize the world.
Many of the clichés of deconstructive criticism appear in this 1990 book, such as calling attention to the allegedly symptomatic double meaning of the word subject, disavowing metanarrative, veneration of play, boasting of its transgressive subversiveness.
Jay claims that Derridean deconstruction restores the body to criticism by replacing universal humanism (masking white-male, straight, class-constrained interests) with a genuine awareness of multicultural otherness. It’s hard to see how this is the case, how a theoretical practice that claims that grammar determines subjectivity is more embodied than an acknowledgment of the human body, which actually is a universal condition that all humans share, even as they vary in specifics. Of course, bodies differ – both between people, and even within a single person to the course of her life – but the differences are small compared to the commonalities we all share, physically and cognitively.
I’ve had this book on my shelf for over a decade, but have struggled to read past the opening pages. It’s frustrating to try to wrap my mind around the unending counterintuitive claims and shibboleths of postmodernism, such as the claim that when Thoreau starts Walden by proclaiming the primacy of “I,” and unconventionally retaining it in his work, that this is actually undercutting the primacy of his individual voice (1). I’m going to force myself to read more, and try to suspend disbelief and listen with an open mind, but it’s a struggle!
This 1990 book exemplifies the paucity of poststructuralist literary criticism, how poorly it has aged.
The opening pages teem with claims that are qualified and abstracted to the extent that they posit no debatable idea. The author disavows the normal tasks of criticism, promising no “definitive new interpretations” of American literature, nor a comprehensive engagement with recent theories of history and literature, instead saying it will explore connections between literature and theory (ix).
The author proudly boasts that he will not pretend to provide an overarching story about American literature, a “metanarrative,” and advises us that “we should abandon such stories in the nationalist agenda that they inevitably reinforce” (xi). The author claims that the book will explore the historiographic ideology “in which the nation represents itself to itself as a writing subject” (xi). This begs the question of whether writing about the nation as a single entity is an ideology. It also begs the question of how the author is defining the concept of ideology, crucial information without which we cannot judge the argument. An alternative claim would be that the idea of a unified nation is obviously fictional at some level, yet a fiction that we find useful and see the partial truth of. The concept of ideology suggests a worldview that cannot be seen past, but perhaps nationhood is not that, but is rather a symbol that we used to organize the world.
Many of the clichés of deconstructive criticism appear in this 1990 book, such as calling attention to the allegedly symptomatic double meaning of the word subject, disavowing metanarrative, veneration of play, boasting of its transgressive subversiveness.
Jay claims that Derridean deconstruction restores the body to criticism by replacing universal humanism (masking white-male, straight, class-constrained interests) with a genuine awareness of multicultural otherness. It’s hard to see how this is the case, how a theoretical practice that claims that grammar determines subjectivity is more embodied than an acknowledgment of the human body, which actually is a universal condition that all humans share, even as they vary in specifics. Of course, bodies differ – both between people, and even within a single person to the course of her life – but the differences are small compared to the commonalities we all share, physically and cognitively.
I’ve had this book on my shelf for over a decade, but have struggled to read past the opening pages. It’s frustrating to try to wrap my mind around the unending counterintuitive claims and shibboleths of postmodernism, such as the claim that when Thoreau starts Walden by proclaiming the primacy of “I,” and unconventionally retaining it in his work, that this is actually undercutting the primacy of his individual voice (1). I’m going to force myself to read more, and try to suspend disbelief and listen with an open mind, but it’s a struggle!
Displaying 1 of 1 review