Metafiction as R&D
To prep for the next diss. chapter, on the figure of the "believer," I've been reading lots of lit crit on metafiction and, in an unrelated line of reading, have been simultaneously perusing Ha-Joon Chang's Bad Samaritans, a terrific book on economic development that blows neo-liberal free-market orthodoxies more or less out of the political-economic water.
Through a strange associative leap, a merging of both lines of reading into a single Frankensteinian concept, I'm nursing the idea of writing a chapter or article built around the metaphor "Metafiction as R&D."
Critics who emphasize obsolescence as the driving force behind metafiction (and I know two at Stanford, who are doing great work on John Barth and the obsolescence/death-of-the-novel) are quite right to do so. But there is an interesting assumption embedded in this model: that literature is a form of technology, and the novel a kind of machine, one that was invented, has developed over time, and is being superceded by new machines (media) that embody superior technical paradigms.
This model of literary production, I would argue, is based on ideologies developed in the Cold War research university. I'm not sure what character type this ideological matrix would correlate to, given my theoretical interest in ethos. Maybe: the avant-gardiste not as rebel but as aesthetic Research&Developer, as a kind of literary scientist. Or maybe: the ironist not as a subverter of dominant orthodoxies (the common assumption) but rather as a maker of "advanced" art, a figure at the very core of Establishment power and prestige.
My ideas are all mixed up in a big vague hodgepodge right now, and I'm open to suggestions and correctives, but this seems to me like a promising argument, one that may flower in a number of directions, and a good way to frame the prehistory of how the postironists have tried to retool/revive metafiction in the '90s.
Metafiction as R&D
To prep for the next diss. chapter, on the figure of the "believer," I've been reading lots of lit crit on metafiction and, in an unrelated line of reading, have been simultaneously perusing Ha-Joon Chang's Bad Samaritans, a terrific book on economic development that blows neo-liberal free-market orthodoxies more or less out of the political-economic water.
Through a strange associative leap, a merging of both lines of reading into a single Frankensteinian concept, I'm nursing the idea of writing a chapter or article built around the metaphor "Metafiction as R&D."
Critics who emphasize obsolescence as the driving force behind metafiction (and I know two at Stanford, who are doing great work on John Barth and the obsolescence/death-of-the-novel) are quite right to do so. But there is an interesting assumption embedded in this model: that literature is a form of technology, and the novel a kind of machine, one that was invented, has developed over time, and is being superceded by new machines (media) that embody superior technical paradigms.
This model of literary production, I would argue, is based on ideologies developed in the Cold War research university. I'm not sure what character type this ideological matrix would correlate to, given my theoretical interest in ethos. Maybe: the avant-gardiste not as rebel but as aesthetic Research&Developer, as a kind of literary scientist. Or maybe: the ironist not as a subverter of dominant orthodoxies (the common assumption) but rather as a maker of "advanced" art, a figure at the very core of Establishment power and prestige.
My ideas are all mixed up in a big vague hodgepodge right now, and I'm open to suggestions and correctives, but this seems to me like a promising argument, one that may flower in a number of directions, and a good way to frame the prehistory of how the postironists have tried to retool/revive metafiction in the '90s.
Singapore 3.0
I haven't written anything for this blog in a long while, largely because I've been in the US, partly out of laziness. I am writing from Singapore now, where I am teaching yet another EPGY course in creative writing. I was also in Singapore this past May, teaching yet another class. There isn't much to report. Singapore is much the same as it was before: a city-state sized shopping mall. Which is not to say I don't find it charming in its own right. The one major development I have to report is that I've found an absolutely excellent cafe (Book Cafe) about a fifteen minute walk from my hotel.
It has comfy couches, pretty good espresso drinks, free WiFi, ubiquitous plugs for computers, and a nice environment for working. There are free magazines that you can peruse and a strange assortment of alternative covers for Nabokov's Lolita. As usual, I've brought more books that I can read with me, and as always I've bought even more from the gigantic Kinokuniya on Orchard Road.
I found myself a paperback copy of Ha-Joon Chang's truly excellent book, Bad Samaritans. The argument of the book is that pretty much all the orthodoxies of the neo-liberal "Washington Consensus" are bunk. Free trade is not a good way to develop an economy. Tariffs can be an excellent way to build comparative advantage. Protecting infant industries--like infant children--is an excellent idea for countries trying to become world-class economies.
Why am I so drawn to books on economic development? It's a bit odd, I suppose. Perhaps I was an economist in a previous life.
You’re not really suffering from OCD if…
Well, for instance: ...if you really do have a chronic problem with typos and off-seeming sentences in early drafts of your writing.
Since I turned in my hipster chapter, I've been going over it again and again, finding (what seem to me) terrible typos and clunker phrases. At one point, I accidentally used of the term "Black Power" when I meant "Black Arts." Ak!
All of this has led to my doing a quick chapter-revision and sending out Version 2.0 to everyone I had previously contacted, with apologies and an explanation about how this version is So Much Better than what I had previously sent.
This can, of course, get to be too much, and annoying if overdone. I hereby officially declare to myself that all work on Hipsters must end until I get feedback.
I've been reading David Foster Wallace's Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, which has rekindled my enthusiasm for believers. Writing about them, anyway, and only about the postironic variety, though I do hope to lead off my chapter with a very brief close reading of Left Behind.
You’re not really suffering from OCD if…
Well, for instance: ...if you really do have a chronic problem with typos and off-seeming sentences in early drafts of your writing.
Since I turned in my hipster chapter, I've been going over it again and again, finding (what seem to me) terrible typos and clunker phrases. At one point, I accidentally used of the term "Black Power" when I meant "Black Arts." Ak!
All of this has led to my doing a quick chapter-revision and sending out Version 2.0 to everyone I had previously contacted, with apologies and an explanation about how this version is So Much Better than what I had previously sent.
This can, of course, get to be too much, and annoying if overdone. I hereby officially declare to myself that all work on Hipsters must end until I get feedback.
I've been reading David Foster Wallace's Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, which has rekindled my enthusiasm for believers. Writing about them, anyway, and only about the postironic variety, though I do hope to lead off my chapter with a very brief close reading of Left Behind.
Academic hangover
Last night, I mailed my revised hipster chapter to my dissertation advisors and to some other people I thought might be interested in reading it. Today, I've been feeling intellectually lazy and hung over.
I'm cleansing the mental palate by reading Charles Johnson's 1999 novel, Dreamer, a fictionalized rendition of the last two years of Martin Luther King's life as told by one of his young associates. It's a quick read and an excellent novel, and it's inspiring me to dive back into fiction-writing, which I've neglected doing for a while.
I'm teaching a creative writing course for Stanford's EPGY program in Singapore for two weeks, starting next week, so I'll probably use my spare time after class to work on my novel-in-progress, Hamsterstan. I've written about 13,000 of an anticipated 90,000 words. It's funny to think that I take a vacation from writing... by writing. But that's the shape of my life at the moment. I can't complain.
Academic hangover
Last night, I mailed my revised hipster chapter to my dissertation advisors and to some other people I thought might be interested in reading it. Today, I've been feeling intellectually lazy and hung over.
I'm cleansing the mental palate by reading Charles Johnson's 1999 novel, Dreamer, a fictionalized rendition of the last two years of Martin Luther King's life as told by one of his young associates. It's a quick read and an excellent novel, and it's inspiring me to dive back into fiction-writing, which I've neglected doing for a while.
I'm teaching a creative writing course for Stanford's EPGY program in Singapore for two weeks, starting next week, so I'll probably use my spare time after class to work on my novel-in-progress, Hamsterstan. I've written about 13,000 of an anticipated 90,000 words. It's funny to think that I take a vacation from writing... by writing. But that's the shape of my life at the moment. I can't complain.
Done with hipsters, I hope forever
I finished my hipster chapter on Saturday, at least a draft of it. Only took me a year to write. It weighs in at about 75 pages, and overall I'm pretty happy with how it came out. One more major chapter to go--another 75-80 page chapter, on the postironic figure of the believer. I believe. Yes, I can.
Done with hipsters, I hope forever
I finished my hipster chapter on Saturday, at least a draft of it. Only took me a year to write. It weighs in at about 75 pages, and overall I'm pretty happy with how it came out. One more major chapter to go--another 75-80 page chapter, on the postironic figure of the believer. I believe. Yes, I can.