Perhaps I should clarify my perhaps needlessly snide query. (I also
apologize for its tone.)
By questioning the existence of an "actual past" I don't mean to suggest
that, in fact, the Napoleonic Wars never happened, or whatever. I only
question the idea that these events have an unproblematic existence
vis-a-vis the present (which is, I think, really the object of every
historical enquiry - a point I'll return to). Also, to speak of "events
in the past" and to speak of "the past" are two very different things. I
agree that history becomes controversial as soon as you try to determine
(that is, *narrativize*) the meanings of events. But, of course, this
means that those events are, in themselves, *meaningless*. The writing of
history is not the simple cataloguing of occurences (which only "come
down to us" in the form of textual memory anyway, which already
drastically problematizes the issue). As soon as you relate one event to
another, you've ascribed meaning to it (as a cause, as an effect, or
whatever, depending on the explanatory role it plays in the specific
narrative). And the mode in which one does this relating of events is
already inextricably tied to the present, to one's ideological
investments in one narrative mode rather than another.
There is no history that is not already a narrative. I only question the
gesture of ascribing one of these narratives the status of the "master
narrative", the narrative which *unproblematically* refers to the
"actual" past. And make no mistake: there is *no* reference to the past
that is not already a narrativization of it. Hence, there is no "actual"
past that we can refer to in order to ground our narratives about "it".
There are only competing versions. In which case, the criteria for what
is a "good" history and what is a "bad" history ceases to be the extent
to which a history corresponds to the actual past - and becomes instead:
how does this history help in my contemporary political struggle?
The past does not exist in the same way that this computer screen exists.
So how does it exist? Only as a narrative, so the motivations,
investments and regularities of its telling are as important if not more
important than its correspondence to the "truth" - which is, of course,
itself always already narrativized. Which brings me back to my point
about the present being the real object of historical enquiry. (well,
actually, I'm not sure if it does, but I'd like to return to it anyway.)
Foucault's histories are relevant because they help me to explain why it
is I find myself in the situation I'm in. I don't actually care about
Carl Westphal or Charcot themselves - what I care about is how their
activities are worked into a strategy of control that still has effects
today. All histories are really about explaining the present, so it is
one's perspective on that present that will determine the kind of history
you write. This is true for *everybody*. And to turn that proposition on
its head: it is possible to infer from someone's written histories what
perspective they have on the present. Do they try to account for the
faces and modes of oppression with their histories? Or do they to
rationalize these oppressions by either ignoring them or resolving them
into some other narrative? What is foregrounded in a particular history?
Does this narrative gesture help? If so, then good, that's enough. If
not, then the history is ideologically specious.
One more point: (I am operating on a rather out-dated program, so I'm
unable to cut-and-pasts, unfortunately) someone asked: "Does Foucault
tell us anything about madness, or just things about his particular
experience of madness?" In reply: no, he doesn't tell us anything about
"madness" in itself. "Madness" (defined as some amorphous, prediscursive
force) is *not* the object of _Madness and Civilization_. The object,
rather, is all those measures of social control that define madness, how
they are implmented in culture, and their effects. I thought the argument
of _Madness and Civilization_ was not that madness is one thing or
another, but that "Madness" is actually different things within the
different strategies that attempt to contain and explain it. And that
there is no way of speaking about it that is not already an attempt to
contain and explain it, because "madness" is an object of discourse that
has no existence outside of what is said and done about it. There's no
way to speak of madness that is not an attempt to normalize "something" -
not madness - because madness does not exist outside of a normative
system. It is this normative system that Foucault wants to explain - not
madness.
Rant, rant, rant. Bye for now.
malcolm
apologize for its tone.)
By questioning the existence of an "actual past" I don't mean to suggest
that, in fact, the Napoleonic Wars never happened, or whatever. I only
question the idea that these events have an unproblematic existence
vis-a-vis the present (which is, I think, really the object of every
historical enquiry - a point I'll return to). Also, to speak of "events
in the past" and to speak of "the past" are two very different things. I
agree that history becomes controversial as soon as you try to determine
(that is, *narrativize*) the meanings of events. But, of course, this
means that those events are, in themselves, *meaningless*. The writing of
history is not the simple cataloguing of occurences (which only "come
down to us" in the form of textual memory anyway, which already
drastically problematizes the issue). As soon as you relate one event to
another, you've ascribed meaning to it (as a cause, as an effect, or
whatever, depending on the explanatory role it plays in the specific
narrative). And the mode in which one does this relating of events is
already inextricably tied to the present, to one's ideological
investments in one narrative mode rather than another.
There is no history that is not already a narrative. I only question the
gesture of ascribing one of these narratives the status of the "master
narrative", the narrative which *unproblematically* refers to the
"actual" past. And make no mistake: there is *no* reference to the past
that is not already a narrativization of it. Hence, there is no "actual"
past that we can refer to in order to ground our narratives about "it".
There are only competing versions. In which case, the criteria for what
is a "good" history and what is a "bad" history ceases to be the extent
to which a history corresponds to the actual past - and becomes instead:
how does this history help in my contemporary political struggle?
The past does not exist in the same way that this computer screen exists.
So how does it exist? Only as a narrative, so the motivations,
investments and regularities of its telling are as important if not more
important than its correspondence to the "truth" - which is, of course,
itself always already narrativized. Which brings me back to my point
about the present being the real object of historical enquiry. (well,
actually, I'm not sure if it does, but I'd like to return to it anyway.)
Foucault's histories are relevant because they help me to explain why it
is I find myself in the situation I'm in. I don't actually care about
Carl Westphal or Charcot themselves - what I care about is how their
activities are worked into a strategy of control that still has effects
today. All histories are really about explaining the present, so it is
one's perspective on that present that will determine the kind of history
you write. This is true for *everybody*. And to turn that proposition on
its head: it is possible to infer from someone's written histories what
perspective they have on the present. Do they try to account for the
faces and modes of oppression with their histories? Or do they to
rationalize these oppressions by either ignoring them or resolving them
into some other narrative? What is foregrounded in a particular history?
Does this narrative gesture help? If so, then good, that's enough. If
not, then the history is ideologically specious.
One more point: (I am operating on a rather out-dated program, so I'm
unable to cut-and-pasts, unfortunately) someone asked: "Does Foucault
tell us anything about madness, or just things about his particular
experience of madness?" In reply: no, he doesn't tell us anything about
"madness" in itself. "Madness" (defined as some amorphous, prediscursive
force) is *not* the object of _Madness and Civilization_. The object,
rather, is all those measures of social control that define madness, how
they are implmented in culture, and their effects. I thought the argument
of _Madness and Civilization_ was not that madness is one thing or
another, but that "Madness" is actually different things within the
different strategies that attempt to contain and explain it. And that
there is no way of speaking about it that is not already an attempt to
contain and explain it, because "madness" is an object of discourse that
has no existence outside of what is said and done about it. There's no
way to speak of madness that is not an attempt to normalize "something" -
not madness - because madness does not exist outside of a normative
system. It is this normative system that Foucault wants to explain - not
madness.
Rant, rant, rant. Bye for now.
malcolm