Neil wrote,
>I have read some of the contributions that would silence or aim to silence
>some of the critcism of this enlightened man. I would really hate to think
>that criticism in itself was in the process of being censored by a special
>group with a typical human purpose. Self aggrandisement comes to mind.
>Wankery is another.
That's not how I see it. And I'm not sure what you mean by the last
statement; though it seems in bad faith.
The gem that I transcribed from Foucault's 'Monstrosities of
criticism'--its opening--is diametrically opposite to the sentiment you're
reading. There Foucault very openly admits that one wants to silence, for
the reasons he sets out (first, that one is afraid these criticisms will
reach the book; second, that in some senses the failings of the writer
formed and nourished them). But then he goes on to say that he himself
dreams of the day in which the trivial, the incomprehendable--the
ignorant--might somehow take an equal place in 'the dance'. One would no
longer seek to silence them, nor even reply, but rather accept the
transformations they permit and only aim to find--or inquire into--the
reasons for their form; misshapen and crooked. It's a wonderful sentiment;
one of the most profound I've ever read on the question of criticism. That
it's followed by something of a diatribe against two of these _petit
textes_, as Foucault calls them (in this case a review of _Madness and
Civilization by a Mr. Pelorson, and a review of _The Order of Things_ by
George Steiner) is an interesting, fascinating tension. No doubt there is
a statement hidden here, as at many other points in Foucault's writing.
As to what you say about criticism becoming a form of censoring; again,
you should read his words. This is precisely what plays on his mind in the
incredible reason--a third reason--as to why one might seek to silence, to
reply with rigour, to efface, or one the other hand remain silent,
disappear: "... but above all else, one is afraid of recognizing that they
[unfaithful criticisms, or criticisms in general] are nothing else,
perhaps, than a certain critical grid, a certain manner of coding and
transcribing a book, a singularly systematic transformation."
It's interesting to counterpose the quotation you enclose from Eliot--on
the inevitability of criticism--with Foucault's clear weariness of it, and
his sense that it is precisely through criticism that we come to censor the
world: transform the event of a book, an utterance, into a comfortable node
within a 'grid' of criticism in general. Again, the polar opposite of what
you fear. The problem is not one of censoring critics, but of preventing
criticism from censoring the 'force effect' or a book, or a word.
best wishes/sincerely,
_______________________________________________________
Ian Robert Douglas,
Associate Lecturer & Fulbright Fellow,
Watson Institute of International Studies,
Brown University, Box 1831,
130 Hope Street,
Providence, RI 02912
tel: 401 863-2420
fax: 401 863-2192
"Great is Justice;
Justice is not settled by legislation and laws
it is in the soul .. " - Walt Whitman
>I have read some of the contributions that would silence or aim to silence
>some of the critcism of this enlightened man. I would really hate to think
>that criticism in itself was in the process of being censored by a special
>group with a typical human purpose. Self aggrandisement comes to mind.
>Wankery is another.
That's not how I see it. And I'm not sure what you mean by the last
statement; though it seems in bad faith.
The gem that I transcribed from Foucault's 'Monstrosities of
criticism'--its opening--is diametrically opposite to the sentiment you're
reading. There Foucault very openly admits that one wants to silence, for
the reasons he sets out (first, that one is afraid these criticisms will
reach the book; second, that in some senses the failings of the writer
formed and nourished them). But then he goes on to say that he himself
dreams of the day in which the trivial, the incomprehendable--the
ignorant--might somehow take an equal place in 'the dance'. One would no
longer seek to silence them, nor even reply, but rather accept the
transformations they permit and only aim to find--or inquire into--the
reasons for their form; misshapen and crooked. It's a wonderful sentiment;
one of the most profound I've ever read on the question of criticism. That
it's followed by something of a diatribe against two of these _petit
textes_, as Foucault calls them (in this case a review of _Madness and
Civilization by a Mr. Pelorson, and a review of _The Order of Things_ by
George Steiner) is an interesting, fascinating tension. No doubt there is
a statement hidden here, as at many other points in Foucault's writing.
As to what you say about criticism becoming a form of censoring; again,
you should read his words. This is precisely what plays on his mind in the
incredible reason--a third reason--as to why one might seek to silence, to
reply with rigour, to efface, or one the other hand remain silent,
disappear: "... but above all else, one is afraid of recognizing that they
[unfaithful criticisms, or criticisms in general] are nothing else,
perhaps, than a certain critical grid, a certain manner of coding and
transcribing a book, a singularly systematic transformation."
It's interesting to counterpose the quotation you enclose from Eliot--on
the inevitability of criticism--with Foucault's clear weariness of it, and
his sense that it is precisely through criticism that we come to censor the
world: transform the event of a book, an utterance, into a comfortable node
within a 'grid' of criticism in general. Again, the polar opposite of what
you fear. The problem is not one of censoring critics, but of preventing
criticism from censoring the 'force effect' or a book, or a word.
best wishes/sincerely,
_______________________________________________________
Ian Robert Douglas,
Associate Lecturer & Fulbright Fellow,
Watson Institute of International Studies,
Brown University, Box 1831,
130 Hope Street,
Providence, RI 02912
tel: 401 863-2420
fax: 401 863-2192
"Great is Justice;
Justice is not settled by legislation and laws
it is in the soul .. " - Walt Whitman