Trilling’s books are not in the library, and not at google.books. But there’s someone who’s gone through the effort of making a part available: http://www.noteaccess.com/Texts/Trilling/index.htm. Much obliged.

Yesterday I took part in the first discussion of the Reading Department: http://www.reading.department.cc/. Using Skype for a collective chat — reading through Agamben’s text We Refugees. I had to log off at 21.30, at a moment when some interesting issues where coming up — a beginning of a critique of Agamben.

Well, that is what I am interested in, a critique of Agamben. (His texts are beautiful anyway). In order to to entangle both the fascination and the sense of unease with Agambens way of reasoning and doing philosophy. Or trying to do that. Something — I ‘feel’ — is not ‘right’ with Agamben, yet his analysis seems to be very precise and thorough, and to the point.

Taking up Dewey: maybe the problem lies in that Agamben, does use examples from experience, uses practical, political situations, but in the end relegates everything to the realm of ideas and ideals — and leaves it there. A realm of “Anschauung”… the spectator view of knowledge…

But I have to add a big question mark here.

— Then I stumble on this, in the statement of the Reading Department: “Can theory compete with an ongoing war? And what kind of implications bears the “distance of theory”?”

Is that the problem? Theory is not distant, should not be distant. Theory comes from and applies to the world of experience. Of course there are different layers of involvement, entanglement — but the realm of ideas and concepts is not seperate from dirty life. Distance is not the same as separation, but at some point distance becomes separation in practice.

Anyway. Maybe my conclusions are too eeeazy.

“I used formerly, (he added,) when sleepless in bed, to read like a Turk.”

That might be Dr. Johnsons most famous quote…

Earlier in Boswell’s Life of Johnson we learn that Johnson read a lot, read fast, read without any system, read anything that took his fancy, and considered this the best way to acquire knowledge. Also he considered reading books a better way to learn than listening to lectures. In this sense Johnson is the perfect example of a ‘new world’ of learning & acquiring knowledge.

“[W]e may be absolutely certain, both from his writings and his conversation, that his reading was very extensive. Dr. Adam Smith, than whom few were better judges on this subject, once observed to me that ‘Johnson knew more books than any man alive.’ He had a peculiar facility in seizing at once what was valuable in any book, without submitting to the labour of perusing it from beginning to end. He had, from the irritability of his constitution, at all times, an impatience and hurry when he either read or wrote.”

“Mr. Elphinston talked of a new book that was much admired, and asked Dr. Johnson if he had read it. JOHNSON. ‘I have looked into it.’ ‘What, (said Elphinston,) have you not read it through?’ Johnson, offended at being thus pressed, and so obliged to own his cursory mode of reading, answered tartly, ‘No, Sir, do YOU read books THROUGH?'”

“A book may be good for nothing; or there may be only one thing in it worth knowing; are we to read it all through?”

“He then took occasion to enlarge on the advantages of reading, and combated the idle superficial notion, that knowledge enough may be acquired in conversation. ‘The foundation (said he,) must be laid by reading. General principles must be had from books, which, however, must be brought to the test of real life. In conversation you never get a system. What is said upon a subject is to be gathered from a hundred people. The parts of a truth, which a man gets thus, are at such a distance from each other that he never attains to a full view.'”

“‘Idleness is a disease which must be combated; but I would not advise a rigid adherence to a particular plan of study. I myself have never persisted in any plan for two days together. A man ought to read just as inclination leads him; for what he reads as a task will do him little good. A young man should read five hours in a day, and so may acquire a great deal of knowledge.'”

Add to this that Johnson wrote for money, wrote extremely fast, often did not edit, rewrite, yes, often did not reread what he wrote and published.

“He told us, ‘almost all his Ramblers were written just as they were wanted for the press; that he sent a certain portion of the copy of an essay, and wrote the remainder, while the former part of it was printing. When it was wanted, and he had fairly sat down to it, he was sure it would be done.'”

“When a man writes from his own mind, he writes very rapidly. The greatest part of a writer’s time is spent in reading, in order to write: a man will turn over half a library to make one book.'”

All quotes from James Boswell, The Life of Johnson, 1791, electronic version: http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/1564.

(I read this edition: … edited & abridged by Christopher Hibbert, Penguin English Library, Harmondsworth, 1979).

In issue 74 of The Idler he defends enjoying the flow of reading, and argues against marking passages or copying fragments in notebooks:

“It is the practice of many readers to note, in the margin of their books, the most important passages, the strongest arguments, or the brightest sentiments. Thus they load their minds with superfluous attention, repress the vehemence of curiosity by useless deliberation, and by frequent interruption break the current of narration or the chain of reason, and at last close the volume, and forget the passages and marks together.”

see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Idler

I’ve been reading too. And making notes. All of that didn’t make it into the blog.

Spending two days in Brussels at Acting Out Technology (http://www.actingouttechnology.be) was very much worth while.

On the first day I delivered a long sort of improvised talk on 1. Latourian Dingpolitik, ANT, Latours definition of a network, and 2. Web 2.0-stuff. For me it functioned (also) as an explanation of the connection between both. A first public attempt at it. It often feels as if I just happen to think about/reseach online collaboration & sharing & publication issues, and am reading Latour at the same time. But both strands inform each other. I hope to be able to ‘pull them together’ in a text too….

The second day it was to art-historian Eric de Bruyn & his talk on the network in the history of art — from roughly Stan VanderBeek and the Eames IBM-pavilion, via Conceptual Art toward Radical Software. (I love all that). Thomas Zummer — also present — came up good issues & explanations & ideas during discussion with the workshop participants. & some of the proposals of the participants were very, very promising. Inspiring.

I read Diderot’s Jacques le fataliste in the new Dutch translation. Further exploring the world 18th century publishing. Also took a look at Tobias Smolett’s (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tobias_Smollett) The Expedition of Humphry Clinker, and some more Samuel Johnson. Just the fun stuff at the side — but what I learn from it spills over into other areas of interest. Early 18th century being, of course, interesting for its changes in the publishing industry, copyright, writers living from what they write for money etc.

And then I picked up Peter Rawlings American Theorists of the Novel, James, Trilling, Booth, from the series Routlede Critical Thinkers (http://www.routledge.com/). (Just because it was a recent acquisition of the library). It’s not a very inspiring book, and I wonder why we (or students of literature) would need a guide to James, Trilling and Booth. Whatever you have against Gerard Genette and narratology, the theories from that field go beyond James and Booth if you ask me. Maybe not when you focus on ‘morality’ — a big issue for James, Trilling and Booth, But when it comes to literature & morality, one better picks up Rorty or Nussbaum (and no, I do not particularly like their approaches to literature).

Of course James’ introductions to his novels are monuments. Certainly Trilling wrote inspiring essays (I did not read anything of Trilling). Booth’ Rhetoric of Fiction is a classic — euh, already considered outdated when I studied Literary Theory end of the eighties.

So why did I read this ‘guide’?

1. In contemporary literature (also in the Netherlands) James — and his theories of storytelling — keep popping up. It is as if he is the grand master to whom one has to turn to really learn what it means to write a novel. I want to understand better: why James…? Of course James is great (though I have severe problems enjoying his writing). But he doesn’t particularly strike me as a ‘model’ for contemporary literature. Am I wrong?

2. I’m interested in AmLit. I do like to read the American essayist Leslie Fiedler for instance. I’ve never read anything of Trilling.

And what did I get?

1. A short recap of Jamesian + Boothian theory. Always handy. Also a reconfirmation that I rather turn to Genette, early Barthes, Russian formalism & structuralism or Bachtin for insights.

2. An idea of Trillings position — he is conservative in his thinking about the art of the novel, and progressive in terms of its transforming power. For me the useful eye-opener is Trillings opposition of ‘sincerity’ and authenticity’: ‘sincerity’ as connected to rhetoric, appearance, 18th century literature, persona’s; and ‘authenticity’ as the twentieth century idea of a true inner self (Freud being important for Trilling). Trilling would like literature to be about the discovering of this authenticy — against the ‘unreal sincerity’. (Well, this is from a summary of Trilling, I have not yet read his Sincerity and Authenticity).

In this way my reading of Jacques le Fataliste, and exploration of rhetorics (with its idea of the ‘ethos’ of the speaker), connects nicely with reading through a not so inspiring guide on American theories of the novel…

Leonardo Sciascia, De Raad van Egypte (1963) — Dutch translation of Il Consiglio d’Egitto, buy it here: http://www.serenalibri.nl/romans.php. Sciascia continues to amaze me. This is a short historical novel, based on facts, set in Sicily (of course) at the end of the 18th century. A ‘fake translation’ of an Arabic manuscript about the history of Sicily disturbs the balance of power.

James Boswell, Life of Johnson (well, abridged version, until halfway and the rest via the index). Picked up a few old Penguin pockets, apart from this one also Selected Writings of Samuel Johnson. Why would I be interested in Samuel Johnson? Because he operated, euhm.. wrote at a moment when the press was changing, growing, becoming popular; when a General Reading Publick emerged. And because he was a voracious reader.

In Boswell’s Life Johnson comes across as, well, exactly the journalist type — spending to much time in the Coffee-House, talking too much, with controversial opinions. A quite unsympathetic conservative knowitall. But that’s Boswell’s fault as well, I understand — he met Johnson very late in his life, after Johnson did all the hard writing work — sort of defining modern journalism, modern criticism, etc.

This seems to be a good introduction to Samuel Johnson: http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~jlynch/Johnson/.

Texts here: http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~jlynch/18th/j.html#johnson

More browsing: from Jeroen Mettes on Romanticism, http://n30.nl/2006/08/schetsmatig-pleidooi-voor-de-romantiek.html, to the piece by Benjamin Kunkel on writing and memoir, http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/16/books/review/16kunkel.html”, to the n+1 magazine, http://www.nplusonemag.com/, in which a.o. I find this text that voices my opinion on Eggers & The Believer: http://www.nplusonemag.com/situation_2.html — regressive avant-garde.

De boodschap die Jeroen Theunissen — okee, de verteller van diens roman Het Einde — ons aan het slot meegeeft: (in parafrase): blijf nee zeggen, blijf je verzetten, dat is wat de mens tot mens maakt. Ga door. Blijf geloven in een ander happy end dan die ons worden beloofd. Het staat er zo bijna plompverloren in een boek dat ook verder de grote thema’s (rampen, klimaatverandering) niet schuwt en intelligent inhaakt op het huidige theoretische discours, dat ik toch moest denken aan het einde van Beckett’s Unnamable. (Is dat logisch?) Het Einde gaat over het einde van een liefde (vriendin verlaat hoofdpersoon), het einde van een leven (dromen van upload in cyberspace), en het einde van een tijdperk (global warming). En dan dus het slothoofdstuk met bovenstaande strekking.

Dit is serieuze literatuur, die serieus genomen wil (en moet) worden. (Al valt er te lachen). Ik heb genoten van dit boek — het is fijn om een roman te lezen die zo nadrukkelijk inhaakt op het heden en hedendaagse problematiek, waarin dromen van het uploaden van een bewustzijn, het andersglobalisme, de ideeën van Kurzweil en uit de ecologie, vanzelfsprekend voorbijkomen. Het bevalt me stukken beter dan het meeste van de huidige romanproductie (en zeker beter dan het geschrijf van Peter Verhelst — aan wiens laatste roman Theunissen een beschouwing wijdt in de Yang). En toch weet ik het niet. Ik ben niet volledig overtuigd. Om uit te vinden wat er aan scheelt zal ik het boek moeten herlezen (en dat boek ligt in Kanne, terwijl ik nu in Amsterdam ben). Het valt niet logisch op z’n plek mijn — niet ge-expliciteerde — idee over wat een goeie roman is. Te karig? Toch te gestoffeerd? Een te makkelijke verwerking van ‘hippe’ theorie — Kurzweil, Lovejoy?

PS & BTW: wat is dat toch met die mode van de hardbacks? Ik heb echt liever een ingenaaide paperback dan een geplakte hardback.

When I write in reference to Samuels long poem Gewrichten that “I’m tempted to work out the algorithm, the schema, the form, that has generated this particular joining of words” I don’t say that in this way one will capture the meaning or all of the effect of the poem. It’s just a start, as in reading a sonnet, it’s a start to note the form(at): 14 lines, volta, rhyme &c. — and how this informs the effect and the meaning of the poem.

Samuel — who reads my blog — delivers an explanation of his method in the comments: ” I’ll give you the key clue: *every* line appears twice, once indented and once not indented, although in about a quarter of the cases there´s a minor change in the wording. Half of the poem was written as is, the repetitions were done later largely by chance but with an eye to continuity. And there are 480 lines in total. HTH!”

Hmm, so I count badly. (Hey, it was too hot!). 480 makes more sense.

As to reading speed again: quite quickly I found out that Gewrichten forces one to pause for a second after each line. If one does, the musicality ‘comes out’ — the macrostructure builds… Maybe pausing after a linebreak is normal for a lot of readers of poetry — I always think they are slow readers, spending time with each word. But that’s not my way of reading poetry. I start with reading quick through all the lines — often even reading on at every linebreak, for continuity, for getting the sense of the syntax, the rhythm of the sentence (not the line). That way of reading often helps me to understand poetry (afterwards I will spend more time, re-reading, if I like the poem, of when it keeps escaping me). So I had to force the pause after linebreaks (or the poem forced me) … only in the middle, when some lines can be read together, I could speed up.

Visit to the bookstore yesterday made me buy Latour’s Reassembling the Social — http://www.ensmp.fr/~latour/livres/XII_tdmANT.html. Sort of outline of Actor Network Theory (ANT), a term that Latour is now happy to use. Sociology as tracing associations. I read the introductory chapter sitting on the beach of Zandvoort, of all places, early evening, trying to forget the blazing hot sun.

Also read Samuel Vriezen long poem ‘Gewrichten’ (‘joints’) that’s published in this month’s Yang, http://www.yangtijdschrift.be/.. First it seems as if the poem is just loose sentences and bits of sentences, but reading through them, pausing after each line (and each line is clearly a unit), a rhythm develops. Also some lines are repeated. (Samuel is a composer as well & I have been so lucky to be part/performer of his composition Motet; one of his pieces that deals with the rhythm of syntax — that is syntax of language). In the centre of the poem the lines that follow each other do sometimes form sentences together, or at least, can be read as sentences. If I counted right the poem consists of 496 lines, knowing a bit how he composes, and knowing a bit about his taste in poetry, I’m tempted to work out the algorithm, the schema, the form, that has generated this particular joining of words. But I could ask Samuel of course… Needless to say: this is the type of poetry that I love. Art made of language. Not anekdotes put in poetic phrases. (Excuse my wobbly English).

Samuel blogs — in Dutch — at http://blogger.xs4all.nl/sqv/

Ann Blair, “Note-Taking as an Art of Transmission” in Critical Inquiry 31, pp. 85-107 (2004).

Of course that’s online, but it’s behind one of those academic fences that one only can pass if one pays a small amount. (How I hate that…). Luckily the Critical Inquiry is available at the Jan van Eyck library.