“Digital Literature– A Question of Style.” Initial thoughts and notes

-p. 163.  “[M]any critics therefore have concentrated on the philosophical and literary contexts that have facilitated the emergence of…literary “networks.” Regarding philosophical and literary contexts, are there any other contexts which distinguish digital media from paper media? Further down the paragraph, Saemmer says that “digital literature is continuously changing, gradually discovering its specific potential.” Paralleled to this idea, it seems that paper media has experienced most, if not all, of its potential. There is a continuing concern that print media is on its way out– what sort of philosophical and literary contexts surround that?

-p. 163. Saemmer mentions that “[t]he rectangular format in sometimes abandoned” referring to books and pages, as well as their physical construction. Which struck me as odd at first, but it makes sense. We’re calling into question reading practices, and on March 16th, we talked some about the expectations of readers, and this seems to fit into that discussion. Most of us expect a book to be rectangular, and making us conscious of that expectation and challenging it seem apropos for what we are doing. Though I can’t think of any specific examples, it wouldn’t surprise me to see one of those large, cardboard children’s books to be shaped in a non-rectangular way.

-p. 164. “French authors not only questioned the rigid format of books, but also the ability of traditional narrative structures to reflect the complexity of contemporary social, technological, political, and historical processes.” One of the traditional narrative structures that was mentioned was the narrative arc, and how These Waves of Girls does not deliver on that expectation, nor does The Things They Carried. And though both works disrupt this expectation, it does not make them any less profound or remarkable in their own rights. It strikes me that this disruption of expectation is more surprising in print media, in equating the physical structure of a book with an expected story structure. Another Tim O’Brien book with a similar structure (and content, for that matter) as The Things They Carried is If I Die in a Combat Zone, which also lacks an established narrative arc, but rather has each chapter has a specific theme related to the overall topic of O’Brien’s experience in Vietnam.

Another component we talked about on the 16th was unreliable narration in an autobiographical story. The focus of that was These Waves of Girls, but another parallel can be drawn to O’Brien. We know the two mentioned books are heavily based on his experience in Vietnam, but we don’t know what specifically he renders as fiction, what is nonfiction, and to what degree something is fictionalized. And, for me, anyway, because the books are so powerful and moving, the last thing I’m thinking about when I read them is the lack of a narrative arc. Though, to be fair, I’m not sure how the idea of a narrative arc is influenced by a collection of short stories. That’s probably something to ponder.

-p. 164. “[French authors] no longer believed in the power of language to represent the world.” I’m wondering, then, what role language then had? Were they looking for a way to replace language? Or to modify it in some way? Was that lack of power something that concerned them, or did they accept the idea and try to do something with it to give language its power back?

-p. 165. “The first electronic text generators nevertheless seem tightly linked to the rules that human beings (e.g., authors or readers) impose on them.” To an extent, it sounds like it is still that way. Text generators do what the programmer programs it to do (at least, I think). But as readers, the rules we can impose on a piece of digital literature is variable. We can, in some way, create our own narrative arc with These Waves of Girls but may miss some facets of the story and may not even realize it. And we can experience a YHCHI piece in its entirety, but have no control over how we read the text. And we may be able to eventually experience a piece in full, like The Flat, but be restricted in how long we have to experience it each time we make an attempt.

-p. 165. “Considering the ‘intentionality of the computer,’ the author of a digital work, according to Philippe Bootz, always creates with the awareness of a failure.” There is a parallel lurking here between authors of digital lit and authors of non-digital lit, but I can’t put my finger on it. When we write a piece of fiction or poetry on paper, we have to follow a code (whether we’re aware of it or not) in shaping letters, constructing words out of them, attaching meanings to the words, presenting the words to a reader, hoping the reader can decipher the code and make meaning out of it. Which is pretty easily defined as literacy in a particular language. But for those of us who are illiterate in code, the failure that an author has to expect is heightened in other ways.

-p. 166. “…when it thus destabilizes the reader’s expectations, I would propose to call these phenomena figures of manipulation.” Which carries a connotation of intentionality to it– the author is purposely destabilizing the reader’s expectations. This, I suppose, can also be done with print media. A piece I have in mind is “Black Glass Soliloquy” by Ben Mirov, which uses keyboard symbols as letters in some spots in the poem. There is also a video of the poem on YouTube, which furthers this destabilization. To take this idea even further in print media, we can experience unintentional manipulation– like if section B is missing from the paper, or if a page is missing from a library book. These destabilize our expectations, and we have to do something about this discovery, even if it’s as simple as not continuing to read. The manipulation affects how we interact with a piece.

-p. 171. “[S]ome manipulations seem to have an impact on the interface without being instantly discernible.” That may be one of the anticipated failures mentioned on p. 165. The possibility exists that the manipulation is never discerned by the reader. And if the manipulation is not discerned, how does that affect the aesthetic of the piece? Or the reader’s expectation or interpretation? In the event that a manipulation is discerned by a reader, are the expectations gradually shaped by the manipulations, consciously or not?

Some notes on “Stories beneath Your Feet” and “Along the Briny Beach”

-social dimension of reading

-immersively– we generally prefer to block out distractions and other nuances while reading

-Dig. lit– interruptive– isn’t supposed to engage one’s full attention

-locative– read from start to finish– dart in and out, and have different experiences while doing so, as well as each time one experiences a piece

-notion of locative– space shouldn’t view stories specially. Where one reads shouldn’t feel the same everywhere.

-the big question was “is there something sight-specific about the storytelling in which one engages when out and about in the world?”

-this strikes me as a questions that is simultaneous obvious and one that I’ve never considered.

-what constitutes a story?

-difference between apprenticeship and authentic?

-cultural?

-worth remembering/preserving

-curating the best

-notion of the reproducible– -notion of authenticity

-moving the needle of what counts as authentic

-transformative, uplifting effect that art has on us

-partaking of genius– elevating

-betters us by being exposed to great works of art

-easy to modify and cheapen what counts as great art

-sub-art

-loss of imminence and time

-violence in communion between spectator and work of art (referring mainly to cinema)

-landscape as a refuge

-grandeur– direct line to transcendence

-when art couldn’t be protected from mediation anymore, landscape was the way to go

-locative stories– stories set in visible space

-mobile stories

-bodies as sites of stories

-literary aspect of locative

-more than symbolic– has to engage something

-database of experiences– to make it a story

-not strictly referential

-an answering gesture/reception and what it means

-ambiguity

-push notifications– no deeper significance that what it merely is. A stop sign in and of itself is not a story, though it could be the vehicle for a story, perhaps.

-ruminate on the human condition

-I’m sure there’s a metaphor about a stop sign lurking in there that no one wants to hear

-human and nonhuman actors

-we make our machines do what we want, but they also train us.

-trained by software

-Monfort– MIT– Auraless e-lit

-create conditions of scarcity?

-seeing a painting vs. reading a book

-authentic vs. reproduction

-the painting has its aura in uniqueness, whereas the book’s aura comes from the idea that the more circulated it is, the more valuable it is

-when one says “I saw a painting,” we take it to mean that the person saw the original in the museum.

-we can say the same about a band. I saw God Forbid live on stage, but I also saw them at the merch table after their set. I also saw them quite a few times in their music videos. But we’re focused on the live performance. (What a show, for the record).

-dig. lit– copying has to occur for computation to take place

-in this sense, it has a similar aura to a book, though comparing the two mediums might not be fair

-we create novelty, but we crave familiarity even more.

—————————————————————————————–

“Along the Briny Beach” (or would it be more appropriate to italicize the title?)

-repetition of words– like similarities of waves

-movement of text– lines of unequal length like waves

-no pausing– (you guessed it) like waves

-JavaScript like the wind dictating the flow

-there’s so much repetition, yet one has to focus to keep up with the movement of the text– difficult to focus on what else is going on in the piece

-endorsement of close reading

-with this much movement and repetition, I’m not sure (on the first read) if the text has a definite beginning and end, and if the piece plays on a loop.

-the main text, anyway (or what I’m identifying as the main text)

-it turns out that this text does not begin with the same line– it’s different each time one begins the piece. Subject and verb or subject, object, and verb appear as a combination (or maybe a permutation) in each line.

-punctuation marks resembling wind, shore, and water

-sand– this piece moves the slowest of the four other texts. In focusing on it, I was more aware of the other texts moving than I was while reading the main text. But instead of trying to catch pieces of the other texts, I focused on this one solely, but with an awareness that other stories were occurring simultaneously.

-wind– “The Walrus and the Carpenter”

-it’s interesting that the piece is iambic, which juxtaposes the chaotic quality of wind

-compared with the sand, it looks as though it is moving faster than it is

-waves– periodic interruptions from the text with waves and figures

-the text is “The End of March” by Elizabeth Bishop

-I googled the poem, but have not yet read it it is non-moving, original form. The reason is that I’m concerned something in the effect might be lost if I read it right away out of the context of Briny Beach

-Darwin section

-hardest to read– color scheme of the letters and the box its in at first

-shrinking of the text box

-though once one gets used to it, it’s easier to experience

-like a boat or the wind

-so many potential metaphors

-significance of Darwin’s text? What does it represent, if anything at all? Is that something that matters?

-lines from “Heart of Darkness”– the lines do repeat

A few notes on “Touching Words”

-I’m not sure who all the people in the video are, so the quotations (or probably more accurately, paraphrases) and notes are listed chronologically.-

“Attention, please. Attention, please. This is an emergency.”

-what a way to begin the video. Memmott (I’m pretty sure that’s him, anyway) says shortly after that he is “extremely interested in polysemous rather than seemlessness.” It could be that I just want there to be a connection here, but I think the significance of beginning the video with the fire alarm, and then Memmott saying that, is an unexpected example of just what he’s referring to. We don’t expect a video about people talking lit to begin with a fire alarm. Someone had to have edited the video that way on purpose. It disrupts the seemlessness that we anticipate. Admittedly, I don’t have much in the way of a hypothesis about any multiplicity of meanings that could stem from this.

Someone playing “Amazing Grace” on bagpipes in the background. A point I think is worth noting, but I’m not sure why.

No clear frame– wanting to open it.

-“I want to get this shit all over my body.”

-Breathe it, bathe in it, inhabit the work as closely as one can.

“How will it look in a hundred years? Will anyone remember it?”

-calling into question digital lit’s potential (or lack of) lasting significance. Many of us already can’t access “afternoon: a story,” and it has only been twenty years. The work still exists (well, probably anyway; I guess I can’t verify that), but it’s quite a ways back in the ethers. Which, I suppose, is similar to a book that has been unopened for as long– still existing, still inhabiting space, but not being experienced.

“Life of their [the works’] own after me.”

-Though don’t all authors want their work to last after they’ve left this life? How might a work outliving its author be different in a digital medium rather than a print medium?

“Writing and touching are a performance.”

-even if it’s just a one-person show.

“The lack of texture makes it disturbingly smooth. There’s a lack of friction”

-I don’t know why, but this conjured the line from Walt Whitman– “and your very flesh shall be a great poem.”

-reading someone’s skin with your hands. Depending on the person, it could be a great piece of work or the worst.

-but I digress

A few seconds before and after the six-minute mark, the young woman in the background casts glances at the camera. She was probably aware she was in the frame and a part of the piece. In calling aesthetics into practice, how does her presence affect the piece? Maybe more importantly, how does her cognizance of her presence in the piece affect the piece?

-there’s a juxtaposition between her and Memmott, as well as a juxtaposition between their purposes. Memmott is focused on talking about the observer becoming the observed with a piece, and she (interestingly, having become the observed) is focused on coffee and dessert.

Evidence of intent vs. concealment of intent

-does intent exist in the reader and author? Can we tell?

-things leak out– aspects of the messiness of humans.

-this question surprised me. I had never thought about an author trying to hide his/her intent, nor why he/she might want to do so. I’m still pondering this.

Class Notes– Feb. 16, 2015, and a few more thoughts on Nippon

Digital storytelling– “Stories beneath Your Feet”

-locating

-we don’t really read in public anymore

-reinscribe world– locative stories

What is narrative? How does one move through it?

Who owns the narrative space? Who controls it?

Remove the human being

What’s literary about “Chroma”?

-literary, interactive, entertaining, whoa

-text does not necessarily equal literature

-hard to hear

-most likely intentional

-same story told in different ways

-forces one to compare the two registers

-or does it? Is it optional?

-emphasis on “compare,” not “force”

-no way out of the maze

-probably metaphoric

-defining the literary body

-lit, not lit, didactic?

-journaling?

-possibility of returning to Eden?

-fable-ish?

-post-lapsarian?

-including race and gender

-also there to critique ideology, that digital lit might be able to get us back to Eden– a pre-Babel set-up

-universal language

-Lit doesn’t exist on its own

-dependent on criticism, genre, etc.

-Pressman’s attempt to give us a larger critical perspective

-conventions of the lit established?

-the only one will, by virtue, be the best

-and the worst

-are the conventions being established right now?

-hearkening back to utopias?

-again, universal language, pre-Babel

-everything will be great and we will all understand each other and be able to communicate effectively

-universal code based on English

-code all the way down

-turtles

-Pound and the Chinese ideogram

-close to nature– no intermedial elements

-nothing close to our alphabet

Binary Code

-neutral?

-doesn’t have a natural language

-though it is based on a Western language

Universal Grammar– Chomsky

-universal translator

-escaped Babel

-not really, though

ACSII

-A

-a

-not actually coded in upper- or lowercase, but as a number

-256 characters, originally

-related to bytes

-26 English characters

-can easily be represented by 256 characters

-vs. 71,000 Chinese characters

-push for (or maybe against) universality– is both 1 and 0

-Does “Chroma” make a worthy commentary on this?

-How is Pressman shaping our reading?

Semiotics

-concern with color, parsing, etc.

-someone (the reader?) has to make sense of it

-McLuhan

-Deconstuctionists

-the visual in context with the text

-meaning of gestures

-we don’t write letters, but rather, gestures

-works in a similar way with a mouse

-as the digital grows, the more it takes us back

-tagging works in a similar way as gestures

-trying to make sense of the larger picture

-the gesture becomes the signature

-not quite the same as typing

-we become more aware of the material the more we move forward

-looking backwards while going forward

Only Revolutions

-author having control over layout, like a scribe or an illuminator

-original for adults, anyway

-how I miss pop-up books

-perspectives of reading?

-what changes?

-sharing tropes

-Similarities to Tristam Shandy

-internal/external instructions

-purpose vs. gimmick?

-bringing it back to more traditional stuff

-crowdsourced

-not brand new ideas, but still

-it isn’t all that foreign or exotic

-Make It New

Digital Lit’s dependence on Modernism?

-Pressman seems to make it out to be so

-But it isn’t solely based on that

-Extends into other branches, fields, genres, etc.

——————————-

I just finished watching “Nippon” again, and I tried a different approach this time. My initial intent was to focus on the center line, dividing the white and red backgrounds, hoping to experience both aspect of the text. But in attempting to do so, I only got a partial experience, and after a minute or two, I decided to focus on the Japanese text while looking at the English text peripherally. Probably not surprisingly, I missed most of the story (in a language I understand, anyway). What was interesting is that it was noted that the Japanese text flows with the piano, and the English text with the saxophone. But for a majority of the piece, the two instruments are not playing simultaneously, and both texts flash on the screen in accordance with one instrument. It begins with the saxophone, then piano, then bass, then the drums, before going their separate ways again.

Since I was focusing on a text I can’t understand, I became aware, after a bit of time, that I was focusing much more intently on the music than I had in previous viewings, and not long after that, of my foot tapping and head bobbing. I’m not sure how to put into words what I think that effect has on the overall literary experience, but I came away with the sense that even though I couldn’t read the story, I didn’t miss everything– there was still something in the experience that kept it from being in vain. I have no idea what the text said, but I am cognizant that there was a story flashing in front of my eyes, and that the music contributed to the aesthetic of it. That (I think, anyway) could be an insight into close reading– the possibility to close-read a piece of literature in which one does not understand what the text says.

We had talked in class about trying to physically place this piece, and there was a split between whether it took place in Japan (based on the title and colors of the piece) or America. This may be a moot point, but if base the country based on colors of the text in accordance to colors of the flag, the piece could just as easily occur in Canada, Austria, Poland, Indonesia, Singapore, Turkey, Tunisa, et al. (For what that’s worth, if anything).

Class Notes– Feb. 9, 2015

Twitter and its literary function

-experimentation of immediate cognition in real time

-can be read that way, anyway

-transmission of cognition

-databases

-ideas, minds at work

-limitations?

Literary technique

-consciousness can’t know itself

-conceptualized in medial terms

-can’t be without

-X-ray into the mind

-shaped thinking

-trying to put it down will shape the thought

-“How can I know what I think until I see what I say?” (I think Forster said that)

Jew’s Daughter

-complexity

-central narrative?

-thread

-succession of impressions/ideas

-representation

-learning how to read the piece

-speaking as a reader

-are the blue words significant? Do they necessarily need to be?

-a new way of reading

-promotion of close reading?

-pattern

-yes–> affirmations

-curly hair–> something curly-hair related

-stereotypical?

-the reader can’t go into the piece rationally

-it’s all in there, but we have to figure out how to put it together

-literary Legos

-pattern of change?

-is it detectable?

-the idea of SoC coming in– Earful Audiobooks– Aerful Audiobooks

-arbitrary, in a sense

-any word can spur another thought

-decapitation

-builds up letter-by-letter

-brings in the writer/programmar

-intertwining of human and computer?

-idea of SoC as a memory extension

-mental drafts?

-what has and has not been thought out before being written/typed

-sequential

-linear

———————————

Database

-relationship between narrative and database?

-narrative used to be the privileged thing

-not the case with the computer

-but why not harmonize them?

-the importance is how we draw on the database

-query and answer

Ulysses

-language?

-loads of information

-one has to know which questions to ask

-narrative continuation

-why The Jew’s Daughter feels so loose

-database aesthetic

-depends on which question one asks it

-knowledge dumping

-search for a question, find answer

-then bring up another question which follows that answer, or create a new topic and question

-hypertext

-Vannevar Bush’s article in Atlantic Monthly in 1945

-get the information together– Memex– desk with microfilm

-databases

-memory extender, but also something one can contribute to

-xanadu.com

Invention of the web– Lee

-share documents

-HTML

-similar to current wikis

-and similar problems

-Trying to do what Bob Brown was trying to do with the Readies

-shaping how the mind works

-associations

-not idiosyncratic

-an aesthetic of association, not a science

-hypertext works by association

-Pressman’s stance is of aesthetics

-and of literary criticism

-connects Ulysses to a hypertext before its time

-paralepsis– flashback

-analepsis– flashforward

-The Jew’s Daughter– not hypertext, just looks like it

-memory of reading

-as one reads, he/she remembers other stuff

Joyceware

-art form

-challenging reading techniques, almost for the sake of it

-to read the database, one has to become the database

-The Jew’s Daughter– part of the story is reading it

Notes from Feb. 2, 2015 class– Dakota and etc.

Speed reading

-aesthetix

-Pressman’s defense?

Originality?

Speed?

-similar to “Project”

Parody/Pastiche?

-is it mocking/paying homage?

Interpretations of Modernism

-many?

-fluid?

-but not just any way

-ambiguity, but not anarchy

Life is polyvalent

-how do we deal with that?

-make it new

-make it new?

Dakota possess qualities of a soundtrack/score

-timing more than coding

editing, too

YHCHI– using/utilizing as much as they do to produce minimalism

-what sort of statement is that?

-How is this done?

-part of “making it new”

-how is it going to look?

Where is “here”? Further, where is the moment in which it is received?

-Seoul?

-South Dakota?

-The computer?

Countdown

-Flash loading in background

-explanation of grey screen after the countdown?

-how does one explain that?

-reloading into the work? –that’s a bit of a leap

-looping? -different Web browsers?

-we do have to deal with it, though. –we can’t pretend we didn’t notice, or just leave it hanging or unacknowledged

-substitute to the colon/ellipses in the Cantos?

Who’s talking?

Shift in the second YHCHI canto about Art Blakey

-whose perspective are we dealing with?

Dakota

-unlike “Project” in that Dakota is strictly words and music– no images

-not intentionally unfollowable

-text moves along with the screen and with Blakey’s drumming

-more of a story

-plot and a problem to deal with. Can we say for sure that “Project” isn’t the same? (That’s not a rhetorical question, either. I’m actually asking).

-lack of intentional distractions

-or is that its purpose?

-Attention to the media itself

-comparison to another way of telling the story

-like Pound

-location of YHCHI and what that means

-they say little– calling attention to themselves when they do speak?

-live-ness?

-potential to lose that?

-if we can place YHCHI, does that take away from “here”?

-title as a mask?

-or the opposite of that? Is there a certain facelessness to YHCHI? Is that the point?

-familiarities with ideologies?

-we become more and more familiar the more we read/view/experience an author

-brand?

-playfulness and the juxtaposition with that in the cultural product

-price? open access?

Sense of New Criticism

-ignore author

-but Pressman doesn’t– she seems to be quite focused on YHCHI

-but she also isn’t looking at self-expression

-forcing New Criticism by YHCHI removing themselves from authorial limelight

-how to bring in author/author function

-we don’t know who actually made Dakota; all we have is the work

-for that matter, we don’t know who did what regarding Dakota’s composition and publication. We (think we) know that YHCHI is composed of two people, but given the emphasis on anonymity, we can’t be sure that that information is accurate.

-creative vs. technical?

-juxtaposition of common Internet use of self-promotion vs. anonymity

-rhythm/scansion

-similar to Cantos

-name similarities– Cindy/Circe (among others)

-similarities to Kerouac?

-blatant similarities in Dakota that one can’t ignore or pretend not to notice

-music– reference to the Beats

-words– reference to Pound

-wagering so much on so little

-Beat mentality– YHCHI’s aesthetic style

-Literature all coming from somewhere else

-what McCarthy told Kevin

-changes depending on who is telling/writing– connection to where “here” is

Actually reading this stuff

-difficulty (shocking, I know)

-promotes close reading

-how?

-study of the object

-some sort of scientific method?

-tinker with it– take it apart–study it

-validity/methodology

-difficulty as a form of cultural class of readers

-not any asshole can read this stuff

-intentionally difficult– isn’t inviting

-persistence?

-difficult ≠ impossible

-exclusionary?

why?

-part of the aesthetic

-tension

-all the ways YHCHI could have taken their work, but they went this way

-desire to share, and, to an extent, to be exclusive

-aesthetic of difficulty comes from Modernism

-Joyce, Pound, Eliot, Woolf, Stein

-put the object on display in all its complexity

-hyper-attention vs. close reading

-distractions?

if they’re actually part of the work?

-music

-another way of doing it– reading without music

-difficulty/distraction becomes a semantic part of it

-what’s so bad about exclusion?

-frustration

-reading another language

-isn’t that exclusionary in a way?

-pushing back against the consumerism of accessibility (I have a star next to this in my notebook)

-push against idea that art should be understandable to all

-and it pisses people off if they don’t/can’t “get” it

seriously, is there a nude descending the stairs?

The numbers and non-words in Dakota

-album number (Blue Note Records)

-reference, footnotes

similar to Ellmann reference

-telling us so that we can go do some research

-part of the aesthetic, part of the story, part of the ongoingness

-simultaneity

-time, image

-response to difficulty

How the work drives emphasis?

-if Dakota was all at one level, it wouldn’t be the same

-pace/speed

-size of text

-length of time text is on the screen

-beat of words/music

-scansion/Blakey

-unity of distractions

-semiotic streams

-collaboration

-two (or more) languages

———————————————————————————————————————————————

We talked a bit about Nippon after watching it, and someone had mentioned its exclusionary effect in its bilingualness. We can’t be sure that the English text is the same as the Korean text– for all we know, they are two completely different stories.

Nippon had a much different effect on me than Dakota did. I’m going to guess that the music was a big factor in this– the aggressive drumming in Dakota being paralleled with the way the words flashed promotes a particular response. I’ve been mulling on how to better describe what “a particular response” means, but I’ve yet to be able to put it into words. Maybe that’s part of the point and part of its difficulty.

Anyway, Nippon had, for lack of a better term, a more comforting musical aspect. I have absolutely no idea what the text in Korean said, and that seems to be an important point– not knowing what half of the piece is communicating, but I didn’t feel distracted from the piece. Nippon felt less aggressive than Dakota, which (for me, anyway) made the piece easier to be a part of. To make an analogy, I felt like a tourist following a guided tour in Japan, and that the translator was telling me what I needed to know, even though there’s a language right there that I don’t understand in the slightest. It’s a sort of naive acceptance that what I need to know is being presented to me.

I don’t know about you, but all that cigarette talk toward the beginning of Nippon, plus the jazz and the red and white colors sure made me want to light up.

Notes from Week 3– Jan. 26

A brief note– I typed this as a Word document, with indents delineating what are subthoughts of what, but that didn’t translate to this post.

Procedural poetry—Setting up an algorithm and following it

-or a constraint of some sort, like rhyme. Many poem, then, are in some way, procedural

Intro

Def. of digital lit.

-analyzing a very small portion of the digital world

New Criticism—problems? Addressed? Context and its acknowledgment?

-I.A. Richards—took publishing/author info off of poems and asked students to analyze—strip that away and work with it without its historical and authorial context—stripped away belle letter, as well as taste and class

just the work to look at

-decontextualize

-lack of women in the canon

-Stein, Woolf, Dickinson, et al.

-Pressman addressing context by placing the tachistoscope in its time—1957

Richards—how can we read more efficiently?

-renovating close readings (p. 18 in Digital Modernism)

-historicizing, women, material—wants to put that back into lit

-calling handwriting/printing into question

How do we quote (and/or cite) this stuff?

-lose much

-difficult to make a case

-we know there’s text back there, but don’t know how to access it

-what do we do as critics?

-YHCHI quotation about anonymity

-maybe we aren’t supposed to know

-not terribly unsimilar to Dickinson’s isolation in Amherst

-authorial persona

-New Criticism would say to forget all of that and look at the work

-and only the work to deal with

-political statement? “homelessness,” etc.

-Banksy—anonymous graffiti, guerilla art?

-media, location

-urban setting, urban context

-Idea that the artist’s meaning is the intent—Intentional Fallacy

-YHCHI trying to avoid this fallacy

-The value and meaning is how it affects readers/listeners/viewers—Affective Fallacy

What, precisely, are we going to read?

What do we care about the process?

Working alone?

-There’s always someone(s) in the background

Digital Lit—aesthetix and poetix

-value close reading

-what, exactly, does one read?

-code?

-more than responding to the lit.

-media literacy?

-accept it for some time and understand it

McLuhan

-connection between visual and close reading

-explores, not explains

What makes him hard to read?

-Reader figuring it out as he does?

-wanders through ideas?

-marketing and text?

-slow down, take a good, close look at it

-not a defined thesis or support

-more nonlineral and more visual than we may be used to

-the way he puts the work together enacts itself

-playing with serendipity and chance

-bullshit, if it exists, becoming more than that?

-going beyond the retina

  1. 36 of DM

“The elegant cult…of belle lettres”

-relevant to this?

-we’ve all read common authors

-normative, prescriptive

-refinement, class-laden, tribal

Blast was blasting belle lettres

-separation of b.l. and non-b.l.

-high and low class

-Calvin and Hobbes’ take on this regarding visual art

-Speaking to the human condition

-if we pull away that qualifier, is the work still interesting?

-Pedestal vs. being taken off the pedestal

-look at the work

Ch. 2

The Readies

-Bob Brown—wanted to make reading quicker and more efficient

-creating a new way to read creates new literature

-except that the speed-reading idea doesn’t work

-why, then, include it?

-secrecy/curiosity? Threatening?

-insidious nature?

-confusion/disturbance?

-Tachistoscope invented by psychologists

-tests behavior/attention/etc.

-Paratexts—texts that surround texts

-“Project”

-but also titles, page numbers, etc.

-story behind subliminal ads

-farcical

-white words in “Project” don’t really have an influence on the reader

-semantic priming—Poundstone’s artist statement

-becomes part of the work once we’ve read it

-1957—The Hidden Persuaders came out

-Subliminal more complicated than that (whatever “that” means—bad note-taking on my part. All apologies).

-“Project” isn’t a treatise on the subliminal; it’s a work of lit.

Readies—moving machine—can’t go back and read something over

-like “Project”

Readies as an early form of coding

-Stein’s poem for the Readies

-poet as programmer

(-pro-grammar. Heh.)

-But we can also take punctuation, breaks, paragraphs, etc. as a sort of code

-moving linearly, seeing the sequence

-painting—seen all at once

-novel—not seen all at once

-coding is a procedural thing—like poetry

-semantic sense—hidden vs. intentionally-seen meaning

To what extent is something important?

-deep, hidden meaning

-subliminal in “Project”—parallel to poetry

-connections, patterns

-forces us to enact a meaning

Hyper- & deep meaning

-relearning reading—requires hyperattention—if one misses something, he/she can’t go back and see it

-“lost the thread”

-How does one know what he/she missed?

-testing ideas and pushing them

-controlled like a film

-that’s part of the work

-this creates a demand for close reading, and rewards it

-inclusion of the loop

How does one close read this?

-watch/read/experience it often

-make others watch it

-Ludovico that shit

-talk about it

-read it in different contexts/situations

Quest for the unmediated

-instantaneous—we don’t know how it even got to us

-emphasis on the medial—point A to point B

-desire to get to the authentic core

-the object is the real thing to be viewed, not to be interpreted

-consider the thing as a thing, not as a representation

-that’s the complexity

-turtles all the way down, man

–This lit seems to challenge out sense of normalcy, thereby challenging our sense of comfort. It’s like what Jim Morrison said.

Dreamlife, DuPlessis, and a bit of etc.

Stefans’ “The Dreamlife of Letters” is based on a poem written by Rachel DuPlessis. According to an article by Kim Knight, Stefans and DuPlessis were part of a roundtable literary project whose focus was a response to an essay by Dodie Bellamy. DuPlessis wrote a poem, and Stefans, in response, alphabetized the words of DuPlessis’ poem and wrote his own poem. (Bellamy’s essay, by the way, is titled “Sex/Body/Writing,” and I’ve yet to find it, though my search hasn’t been thorough. Also, approach typing “Sex/Body/Writing” into Google with a fair amount of caution).
According to Knight, Stefans was not quite happy with his response to DuPlessis’ “texturally detailed, nearly opaque” poem. From his initial dissatisfaction ultimately came “The Dreamlife of Letters.”

“Dreamlife” piqued my interest, so I wanted to dig a bit into its impetus. According to her biography on poetryfoundation.org, Rachel Blau DuPlessis earned her Ph.D. from Columbia, and is an editor, poet, and scholar, and much of her attention is focused on modern/contemporary poetry– gender, the long poem, and cultural poetics being her key areas of interest.

Lynn Keller, author of Forms of Expansion: Recent Long Poems by Women, explores similar ideas that interest DuPlessis. (It may not come as a shock that DuPlessis is featured in Keller’s book). Here are some brief notes from the book.

“Introduction: Pushing the Limits of Genre and Gender: Women’s Long Poems as Forms of Expansion”– p.1– Diversity of practices unacknowledged by critics. “Critical models from earlier decades (this book was published in 1997, by the way) tend to recognize as long poems only works which fit a single pattern based on a particular generic precedent, usually epic or lyric.” It seems that there is a parallel to digital poetics here– the challenge to critical models and single patterns.

p. 2– Long poem a hybrid– “generic interplay or dialogue is the long poem’s most distinguishing character.” roots in Homer, Dante, Whitman, etc.

p.3– Marjorie Perloff “hailed the reappearance of story in ‘postmodern’ poetry.” In the few pieces of digital poetry I’ve experienced, there seems to be, among other things, a story at work. In the case of “Project for Tachistoscope,” a story that continues over and over. (I also recall Pressman distinguishing between “digital modernism” and “digital postmodernism,” so I’ll leave the latter aspect of the quotation be for now).

p. 4– “[M]any have attempted to cross genres, challenge dominant conventions of authorial voice, and expand the scale and scope of their work.” It seems that there is another parallel to digital poetry here.

p. 4– “A great variety of poets are attempting to make poetry more responsive to current understandings of the relation of self to language and to contemporary cultural and social realities.”

pp. 5-6– Regarding DuPlessis’ work– Hers “are poems that deliberately disrupt conventions of ordinary and poetic language– of grammar, syntax, punctuation, of representation and narrative, of lineation, persona, imagery, of intelligibility itself. Such works attempt to reinvent language structures, even to reinvent the silences within which speech sounds.” How one might “reinvent the silences” is an idea that’s way over my head right now, but it’s captivating.

p. 10– Modern long poem combines epic and lyric. Blurring/integration of structures?

p. 19– Keller mentions that “[d]ifferent formal and linguistic strategies reflect different understandings of how art may foster social or cultural transformation.” My understanding of digital poetics, as well as modernism, is severely elementary, but I’m of the understanding that both employ Keller’s idea.

-jumping a little further ahead-

p. 239– “Grand Collage ‘Out of Bounds’: Feminist Serial Poems by Beverly Dahlen and Rachel Blau DuPlessis”– DuPlessis “signals that in language there is no clean slate. Language…is deeply implicated in constructions of gender, and gender is entangled in the structures of language.” This seems to echo similar ideas of Virginia Woolf, Hélène Cixous, Jeanette WInterson, and others, who push for a feminine language.

p. 250– Dahlen and DuPlessis, through their serial poems, speak to the “construction of the reader’s role, a role affected by the character of the poetic subject.” I’m likely misinterpreting this, but I’m getting the vibe that what a poem is about, what it contains, has a direct influence on what the reader does while experiencing the piece. “Project for Tachistoscope,” for example, gives the reader two options– read/experience the piece as it happens or don’t. “The Dreamlife of Letters” is the same way.

Knight, Kim. “Brian Kim Stefans, ‘The Dreamlife of Letters’ (2000).” Transliteracies Project. UC Santa Barbara. 18 Feb. 2007. Web. 25 Jan. 2015.

“Rachel Blau DuPlessis.” Poetry Foundation. Poetry Foundation. N.d. Web. 25 Jan. 2015.

Keller, Lynn. Forms of Expansion: Recent Long Poems by Women. Chicago: U of Chicago P. 1997. Print.

Project for Tachistoscope & Pressman, Ch. 2

Pressman says, on page 59, that “Project shows how literature can bridge the gap (or pit) by inviting both hyper- and deep attention in ways that promote reflexive attention to the media-specific act of reading.” After watching Project for the second time, I think I have some sort of idea of see Pressman is coming from. Project certainly offers “a high level of stimulation” (Pressman 59), and is far from boring. Whether it’s possible or not, I can’t help but want to focus on each facet of Project, from the individual symbols to the colors of the constantly-moving pit, to the occasion flashes of words in white typeface, etc. I remember some instances of the story, such as 22 of 23 people succeeding in attempting suicide by jumping into the pit, people throwing unwanted kittens into it, casino development, someone tampering with the markers, everything going well for the first 58 days, the symbols of the dagger, the service bell, and the biohazard. That’s what I recall initially, anyway, which leads me to wonder if there’s anything specific about Project’s composition which makes those details most memorable. Or if it’s something akin to the subliminal that Pressman and Poundstone mention. Maybe my Coca-Cola happens to be those details, and someone else might be compelled to go to the lobby to buy other details.

We had talked in class about the medium of literature, in considering the book as a physical object with surfaces and textures and a scent, and Poundstone’s combining two mediums into one seems to be a juxtaposition of interaction, in that as a piece of literature, Project is not interactive– the reader having only the choice to experience it or exit out, but as a mode of communication, the two mediums interact to convey the story.

I’m also thinking about using the term “reader,” and whether that’s the most accurate word to apply to Project. We read it, sure, but we also listen to the music and view the words and symbols as they come at us– we’re not strictly readers/viewers/listeners, but we’re simultaneously all of those.

On page 67, Pressman mentions that the reader tries to “bore down into it, to read by digging deep in order to access the hidden text. But regardless of how carefully you to read Project, its deepest layers of text remain inaccessible.” The white words that flash ever so briefly behind the black words at times are nearly impossible to read– I think I saw the words “aftermath” and “sobriety” flash, but I have no idea if I really did or not. And while I didn’t notice the words with any certainty, I saw that the main text– the black words– often did not sync up with the images accompanying them; they flash a split-second apart.

In detailing the Readies, Pressman quotes Bob Brown as saying, “only essential words ever get over to the practiced reading eye, the bulky residue is overlooked.” It strikes me that that might be what Poundstone is doing with the white words, and making a point of that statement.

Notes on Pressman reading, Intro & Ch. 1, Jan. 19 2015

p. 4– “Pound describes making it new as an act of recovery and renovation, not an assertion of novelty.”

Enhancing, not momentarily amusing or catering to a momentary spotlight. What’s new has its roots, and in order for something to be new, it already has to be in some form. And someone/many ones/anyone evaluated it. I would think that the next step would be determining what could be different, which may entail evaluating the core of something, like reading.

p. 5– “The governing cultural ‘discourse network’ of the previous epoch, [Friedrich Kittler] argues, was based in oral and analog modes of communication that supported a sense of embodied connection between human beings through such media as handwriting, whose flow of letters directly inscribes the enacted movements of one person for another.”

I’d never thought of handwriting as a medium, only the words that handwriting produces. Is that an example of “call[ing] into question reading practices and aesthetics,” or am I interpreting that incorrectly?

p. 7– “The fact that these writers (YHCHI), and others like them, pursue minimalism as a conscious act of rebellion is…significant”.

Rebellion against what/whom?– Aesthetics? Interaction? Reading? Writing?

p. 9– “These works (of digital modernism) represent and respond to the networked age and what Henry Jenkins calls ‘convergence culture,’ wherein content flows across media platforms and cultural communities.”

Is that similar to something like stock tickers? (Pressman refers to ticker tape on p. 11 as an example of the speed and automation of technology during the Modernist period). Or newspapers? Could one make the leap that content flowing across platforms and communities has roots in oral storytelling as a discourse network, as Kittler argued?

p. 11– “[C]lose reading explores the artistry and craft of literature.”

p. 11– “Close reading is slow and disciplined reading.”

These strike me as important definitions.

p. 21– full paragraph detailing students’ analyzing Google’s homepage.

With that awareness in mind, I’m looking at the WordPress page I’m using to communicate– its shades of blues and greys, sharp corners, sans serifs fonts, pleasant icons, and plethora of enhancement options has an approachable, professional feel to it. It makes me feel that I know what I’m doing, even though I don’t. And I’m sure there are thousands of other people who feel the same.

p. 22– [L]iterature is always created, distributed, accessed, and archived in material contexts and media-specific conditions.

Books, newspapers, webpages, cave paintings, etc. as things in themselves, as vehicles for literature. No medium equates to no literature.

p. 33– “Typographic man forgoes the real-time embodiment of interpersonal interaction ascribed to oral cultures and is cut off from the holistic sensibilities of multisensory communication.”

Interesting. I’m still processing this idea.

p. 34– “Richards describes the experiment as promoting awareness that a poem’s success lies in its ability to communicate how it works, not just what it communicates.”

The poem “Black Glass Soliloquy” by Ben Mirov comes to mind, a poem in which the narrator seems to lose a firm grasp on his/her sense of reality, and beings to short out, in a way.

p. 47 onto p. 48, in a quotation attributes to McLuhan– “You never thought of a page of news as a symbolist landscape?”

Not in those terms, no. I suppose I’ve been aware of the physicality of a newspaper (usually while struggling with the crease in folding a page over), but never as representative of anything. Does this also bring semiotics into the picture?