Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Discussion Post #2: Brathwaite, Caribbean Poetics, and Nation Language



Thanks for your comments last week. We had a great discussion on the themes of communication, violence, connection, and survival.  To recap, I’d like to highlight three students comments from last week’s chat: 

Marissa, commenting on the parallels between “Speech Sounds” and the current pandemic:

“Personally, at this present moment, this situation is not too dystopian to me and far away from reality. As hundreds of people have died in the United States due to Coronavirus, and thousands worldwide, there is fear among citizens. Growing up, I used to read novels like this all the time and I often felt anxiety in relation to them, as well as the science fiction genre. I believe this is because it is apparent how science fiction plays on the most grotesque components of humanity. It seems inevitable that pandemics, wars, and famine are universal experience that no one is immune to. However, throughout time, we have prevailed against illness, war, and natural disaster. But, ultimately, times like these make one wonder about all the dystopian tales and the critique on society. The question of our own nature is apparent in these stories. When you strip someone of comfort and title (such as the lack of organizations in Rye’s dystopian world, and how she said there was no longer a police department), how far will people go?”


Hannah, connecting “Speech Sounds”  to another dystopian narrative:

Butler’s “Speech Sounds” reminds me of another dystopian narrative, “1984” by Orwell. In Butler’s story, we see that language is important for ideology. “Law and order were nothing—not even words any longer” (Butler 4). Since the world in “Speech Sounds” has no idea of law or order, the words for these concepts disappear. Similarly, in “1984”, the government deletes words from the language in order to brainwash society. I think that we can think of these narratives in relation to one another because they both demonstrate the power of language and the consequences of losing words. 


Azhar with a hopeful note on the ending of “Speech Sounds:”

“I feel as if her discovery of children being able to use language reignites her flame to live, and now provides her with a purpose which is all she was longing for. With a purpose in mind, and several resources at her disposal, I believe she can help raise the kids with normalcy and possibly even create a community to create a sense of civilization. In addition, with kids waiting to be taught, Rye gets her life as a teacher back, which will definitely help her cope with the complexity of a post-apocalyptic life.” 

Can English Be a Revolutionary Language?

Our reading for this week, to quote Hannah’s comment, also centers on “the power of language and the consequences of losing words.” This time however, the loss of language does not take place in the hypothetical future, but in the American past. (Here I use the word “American” to encompass all of the Americas, not just the United States.)

Kamau Brathwaite’s essay “Nation Language” provides a history lesson as well as a manifesto for the future. The lesson begins in 1492, with Columbus’ so-called discovery of the Caribbean and the subsequent “destruction of the Amerindians” and the “fragmentation” of native culture. Brathwaite details the rapid loss of life (due, in part to the spread of viruses brought from Europe) but also the loss of native languages—though some remnants have still survived.

The second wave of linguistic fragmentation came with the slave trade. It’s important first of all to acknowledge the linguistic diversity of Africa (today there are still an estimated 1500-2000 African languages).  Enslaved people were not a homogenous group. Those who survived the forced journey over the Atlantic ocean brought their languages with them. And yet, as Brathwaite explains:

“What these languages had to do, however, was to submerge themselves, because officially the conquering peoples—the Spaniards, the English, the French, and the Dutch—insisted that the language of public discourse and conversation, of obedience, command and conception should be English, French, Spanish, or Dutch.” (309)

Part of the strategy of colonial dominance was the forced adoption of European languages. But note the specific way that Brathwaite describes this: “They did not wish to hear people speaking Ashanti or any of the Congolese languages.” Language is not only spoken, but also heard. It is part of the soundscape of the Americas, and a huge part of how we experience the world. To police language is to wield power over what the Americas “sound” like. Nevertheless, as Brathwaite explains, the African languages (and the ideas and values that came with them) did not disappear, but became submerged, continuing to exert a profound influence: “That underground language was itself constantly transforming into new forms” (310)

From this underground language emerges “nation language,” a term Brathwaite uses to describe the oral culture of the descendants of enslaved Africans. Brathwaite, who is from Barbados, critiques the British colonial system that shaped his own early life and education and offers nation language as an alternative mode of expression to standardized English. But given the way that English was violently imposed as a language, an ideology, and a way of life, Brathwaite asks: “can English be a revolutionary language?” (311)

“It may be in English, but it is in an English which is like howl, or a shout or a machine-gun or the wind or a wave. It is also like the blues.”

Edward Kamau Brathwaite was a poet, scholar and philosopher. He completed his schooling in Barbados (the island of his birth) as well as Cambridge and the University of Sussex. His upbringing in Barbados meant that he experienced a colonial education firsthand. The British educational system, Brathwaite writes, “insisted that not only would English be spoken in the anglophone Caribbean, but that the educational system would carry the contours of an English heritage. Hence Shakespeare, George Eliot, Janes Austen—British Literature and literary forms, the models which had very little to do, really, with the environment and reality of non-Europe” (310).

Brathwaite makes a shift from speech to written language in order to emphasize the impact of colonial education on Caribbean writing. He argues, “in terms of what we write, our perceptual models, we are more conscious (in terms of sensibility) of the falling snow, for instance” (310). Aside from the obvious fact that it doesn’t snow in the Caribbean, European perceptual models alienate  Caribbean writers from the poetic possibilities of their own environment: “In other words, we haven’t got the syllables, the syllabic intelligence, to describe the hurricane, which is our own experience, whereas we can describe the important alien experience of the snowfall.” 

Based on the every-day speech of Caribbean folk, nation language provides an alternative: “It may be in English, but it is in an English which is like howl, or a shout or a machine-gun or the wind or a wave. It is also like the blues.” Nation language, Brathwaite points out, is different from  dialect, and in our discussion questions I’ll ask you to explore the significance of that contrast. (311). 

According to Braithwaite, nation language:

·      Is an oral tradition. “The poetry, the culture itself, exists not in a dictionary but in the tradition of the spoken word. It is based as much on sound as it is on song. That is to say the noise…is part of the meaning, and if you ignore the noise…then you lose part of the meaning.” (311)
·      “Largely ignores the pentameter” in favor of the rhythms of the calypso and other local forms (the fact that Brathwaite says “largely” leaves some room for contradiction. We will come back to this.)
·        Is a communal form: "it is part of what may be called total expression” demanding “the audience to complete the community.” (312)


Three Examples

Brathwaite references the calypso singer Mighty Sparrow in his essay. The calypso “Dan is the Man in the Van” (1963) is a critique of the “education you get when you small,” and it also demonstrates the stylistic qualities of nation language: “He is rhyming on ‘n’s’ and ‘l’s’ and he is creating a cluster of syllables and a counterpoint between voice and orchestra, between individual and community within the formal notion of “call and response’ ; which becomes typical of our nation in the revolution” (312).



Next I present to you Louise Bennet’s “Colonization in Reverse.” (1966) Louise Bennett (known as Miss Lou in her home country of Jamaica) was a folk poet, performer, and educator. Her poem “Colonization in Reverse” references Caribbean migration to Europe during what is called the Windrush period (19481970), when over 500,000 Caribbean journeyed to Britain to fulfill labor shortages after WWII: 


Wat a joyful news, Miss Mattie,
I feel like me heart gwine burs'
Jamaica people colonizin
Englan in reverse.

By de hundred, by de t'ousan
From country and from town,
By de ship load, by de plane-load
Jamaica is Englan boun.

Dem a-pour out o'Jamaica,
Everybody future plan
Is fe get a big-time job
An settle in de mother lan.

What a islan! What a people!
Man an woman, old and young
Jusa pack dem bag an baggage
An tun history upside dung!

Some people don't like travel,
But fe show dem loyalty
Dem all a-open up cheap-fare-
To-England agency.

An week by week dem shipping off
Dem countryman like fire,
Fe immigrate an populate
De seat o' de Empire.

Oonoo see how life is funny
Oonoo see de tunabout,
Jamaica live fi box bread 
Outa English people mout'.

For wen dem catch a Englan,
An start play dem different role,
Some will settle down to work
An some will settle fe de dole.

Jane say de dole is not too bad
Bacause dey payin she
Two pounds a week fe seek a job
Dat suit her dignity.

Me say Jane will never find work
At the rate how she dah look,
For all day she stay pon Aunt Fan couch
And read love-story book.

Wat a devilment a Englan!
Dem face war an brave de worse,
But I'm wonderin how dem gwine stan
Colonizin in reverse.


And finally, "Inglan is a Bitch." (lyrics here.) Linton Kwesi Johnson was a Jamaican pioneer of dub poetry, a form of performance poetry popularized in the 1970s. It is named after dub music, a form of electronic music derived from reggae that mainly consists of “versions” (remixes) of existing songs. Dub poets often perform to musical accompaniment. Think about the politics of remixing (or ‘versioning’) and how it might serve as a metaphor for the way Caribbean poets transform language and ideas. (also, this poem has a great title.)





Discussion Questions

1.    What is the distinction that Brathwaite draws between nation language and “dialect?” and why is this distinction significant? Are these merely different names for the same thing or is Brathwaite trying to call attention to a conceptual difference as well? Be sure to quote the essay in your response. 

2.    Comment on the critique of British colonialism in “Dan is the Man in the Van” “Colonization in Reverse” OR “Inglan is a Bitch” (or any combination). What strategies do these works use to challenge the dominance of British culture? Be sure to reference a specific example (word choice, sound, structure) in your response. 

3.    Comment on the relationship between sound and writing in this essay. Brathwaite affirms the spoken word, but writing is obviously a central part of his poetic practice (since after all, we are reading an essay.) Is there a tension between these two forms? How do these two forms work together to produce meaning? 


4.   Brathwaite writes the nation language largely “ignores the pentameter.” Are we to take him literally on this? After all, we read a Jamaican poet, Claude McKay who does write in pentamer “Tropics in New York”, and also wrote poems in Jamaican patois. Is writing in pentameter (or other Europeans forms) inherently conformist? What are some reasons why Caribbean writers might use both pentameter and nation language?

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Discussion Post #1: "Speech Sounds" and the Difficult Miracle of Language

Comment below by Fri @11:59.
In the afterword to Octavia Butler’s 1984 short story, she recalls the mood that inspired her writing: “Speech Sounds was conceived in weariness, depression, and sorrow. I began the story feeling little hope or liking for the human species, but by the time I reached the end of it, my hope had come back. It always seems to do that.” (12) Butler wrote the story after witnessing a violent fight on a bus in Los Angeles. The first line of a possible story sprung to mind: “There was trouble aboard the Washington Blvd bus.”
While this class has mainly covered poetry and poetics, I’ve asked you read the short story “Speech Sounds” because it returns us thematically to the building blocks of poetry, or of any literature: language. I want us to think about the importance of speech and of literacy (defined in this story as the ability to read and write, though there is more to it)—as forms of human connection, especially in perilous times. 
When the story begins, the protagonist Rye is en route from Los Angeles to Pasadena, CA (where Butler was actually from.) when her trip is derailed, perhaps indefinitely. This is no average commute, as we soon become aware of a strange illness that afflicts the inhabitants of what is left of Los Angeles (and we assume, the rest of the country as well.) If you are familiar with dystopian films or fiction, you’ll know that global pandemics are a pretty common plot. But Butler does not choose to represent for instance, a flesh-eating disease or an illness that “zombifies” its victims. Rather, the illness in question impairs the part of the brain that controls verbal expression and literacy, and in some cases erodes reason: the very things which maintain the order of modern cities. Our first clue to this comes on the first page,  where we find characters communicating through grunts and gestures rather than regular speech: “Two young men were involved in a disagreement of some kind, or, more likely, a misunderstanding. They stood in the aisle, grunting and gesturing at each other, each in his own uncertain T stance as the bus lurched over the potholes” (1). But as this scene shows us, another “side effect” of the disease is the “senseless violence” that follows misunderstanding. In the absence of verbal communication, brutality and disorder become just as contagious as disease. 
Butler has always been prophetic, but today her work bears a more-than-usual resemblance to our present times, though the circumstances she describes are far more extreme. I’ve had you read “Speech Sounds” not to depress you, but because by the end of the story, as Butler writes, “my hope had come back.” That is, I think the story explores devastating loss while also suggesting alternate ways communicating, of showing kindness, and of being together that might be useful to think about in our suddenly changed reality. 
What Good is Science Fiction?
Octavia Estelle Butler was an African American science fiction writer who began writing at the age of 10 to escape “loneliness and boredom.” She went on to write 12 novels and several short stories, and became one the few black women to achieve major notoriety in the genre of science fiction. She won Nebula and Hugo awards (including one for “Speech Sounds” in 1984) as well as a Macarthur genius grant. Despite her success, she still remembered being asked a strange question during interviews and at readings: “what good is science fiction to black people?” 
"Still I'm asked, what good is science fiction to Black people? What good is any form of literature to Black people? What good is science fiction's thinking about the present, the future, and the past? What good is its tendency to warn or to consider alternative ways of thinking and doing? What good is its examination of the possible effects of science and technology, or social organization and political direction? At its best, science fiction stimulates imagination and creativity. It gets reader and writer off the beaten track, off the narrow, narrow footpath of what 'everyone' is saying, going, thinking - whoever 'everyone' happens to be this year.?" - Octavia Estelle Butler, "Positive Obsession," 1989
We certainly get “off the beaten track” in “Speech Sounds,” envisioning a possible future where society is only a pale imitation of what it once was. But the story also urges us to think about the past. The theme of literacy runs deep in American history. Recall that enslaved people weren’t allowed to read or write, often under the threat of physical violence or death. But many did so in secret anyway.  Think of Phyllis Wheatley learning to read, and eventually picking up her pen to write poetry. In the context of U.S. history, literacy is a “difficult miracle” (June Jordan’s phrase to describe Wheatley) as well as a dangerous act of creation. (Check out Butler's most popular novel Kindred, a time-travel novel in which a black woman from 1976 Southern California is transported back to the violent days of slavery before the Civil War.)
If we keep those historical echoes in mind, Rye’s loss of literacy in “Speech Sounds” becomes even more devastating: “She had lost reading and writing. That was her most serious impairment and her most painful. She had taught history at UCLA. She had done freelance writing. Now she could not even read her own manuscripts” (6). We learn that the disease affects everyone differently, and some have retained to the ability to read and write while others have not. When she learns that Obsidian can still read, an almost uncontrollable wave of envy consumes her: “she had never experienced such a powerful urge to kill another person” (7).
By the very end of the story there is reason for, which I’ll leave room for you to discuss in the comments.  For now, I’d like to point out that Rye develops other “literacies” that are important to her survival in a changed world. We might think of literacy not only as ability to read and write, but to have proficiency in alternate forms of knowledge or new ways of thinking. If you go back to the story, you’ll notice the subtle new forms of literacy that Rye has developed to “read” her surroundings and to interpret the behavior of other people.
To name an example that is close to home, in the loss of face-to-face communication, many of you, your professors and your peers are building your web literacy by testing new platforms online, or putting old platforms to new uses. In this class we’ll practice the (now seemingly ancient) art of blogging, a form of writing that is more casual than a critical essay but more formal than, say, a tweet. (Forgive the outdated reference to twitter, I don’t know what the kids are using nowadays. I recently googled “How do I TikTok?”) At any rate, these are new uses of web tools to adapt to new realities and to craft flexible modes of communication, existence and survival. 
Unlike many of the characters in “Speech Sounds,” we actually CAN communicate verbally. If there were any moment to be grateful for language, it is now. 
Finally,  as a complement to “Speech Sounds,”  Pablo Neruda’s poem “Keeping Quiet” reminds us that there is value in stillness and silence, too:
“Keeping Quiet” by Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve

and we will all keep still

for once on the face of the earth,
let's not speak in any language;
let's stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment

without rush, without engines;

we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea

would not harm whales

and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,

wars with gas, wars with fire,

victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused

with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about...
If we were not so single-minded

about keeping our lives moving,

and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death.

Now I'll count up to twelve

and you keep quiet and I will go.


Discussion Questions: Leave two comments in the comment section below. (You can submit them at separate times). Comments should be 1 paragraph or more. These questions are just conversation starters. Your first comment should respond to ONE of them, OR you can raise your own concerns about a specific aspect of the story. Your second comment should respond to and *extend* a comment another student has made, which means you'll probably need to visit this post more than once. Bonus for quoting the reading in either of your comments.
1.     Comment on the relationship between “Speech Sounds” and our current situation.  (Feel free to also reference Neruda’s poem “Keeping Quiet.”)
2.     In the absence of language, what alternative forms of literacy does Rye develop to “read” her surroundings and/or the behavior of other characters?
3.     Even though traditional language is gone, sound is still important in “Speech Sounds.”  Give an example of Butler’s use of sound (or silence) in the story. 
4.     Give an example of the ways that gender or economic status affects the lives of characters in the story.
5.     Comment on the ending of the story. What alternate future does the ending suggest for Rye, and how is it different from the future Rye had imagined just moments before? 

6.     If there are other dystopian stories you’d like us to think about in relation to this one, drop those in the comments. I also strongly recommend Butler’s novel Parable of the Sower.

Sunday, March 15, 2020

The Shift Online: What to Expect


Sometimes the unexpected happens. I know you will have many questions in the coming weeks, so I have put together this guide to address some of your concerns. Of course, you can email me at any time. In the meantime, check out Joy Harjo reading "A Poem to Get Rid of Fear.

This blog will serve as the online discussion forum for Principles of Literary Study, in lieu of in-person class meetings. I will post a new "Discussion Post" based on the readings every Tues. You will write two comments responding to my post by each Friday at 11:59pm. The first is due Fri Mar 27.


What to expect in the coming weeks: 

  • Flexibility and understanding. We are figuring this out as we go along!
  • Extensions on remaining presentations and on your final paper.
  •  A streamlined reading list
  • A new blog post from me every Tues, with 2 comments from you due every Fri at 11:59pm.
  • Virtual Office Hour every Thurs from 1:10-2:30. I encourage each student to sign up for a 10min slot before the end of the semester.
  • Updates via email with additional changes and announcements.

Edit: As of 3/19, the University has declared we will not return to campus. In light of this news:


  • We will have at least one or two of our April meetings via zoom during our regular class time, Tues or Thurs at 110-230pm, dates TBA.
  • We will discuss flexible options for presentations and final assignments to adapt to the changing situation.

FAQs


  • Does this blog take the place of SAKAI? No. Think of the blog as a classroom.  You’ll still access the readings on SAKAI, and the blog will be a forum for discussion about those readings.
  • When can I expect new posts? I will publish a “Discussion Post” every Tues starting March 23.
  • What does a Discussion Post entail? An overview of the readings, brief context, and discussion questions for you to respond to in the comments.
  • What should comments entail? Your first comment should respond to the prompt I provide in the discussion post. Extra points for quoting the reading in your response. Your second comment should respond to something another classmate has written. This means you’ll likely have to visit the blog a couple times per week to read what others have written. 
  • How long should comments be? 1 paragraph (4-5 sentences.)
  • When will blog comments be due? Anytime after the post goes up and before Fri at 1159pm. 
  • Will the comments be graded? No. They will count as attendance and participation. 
  • Do you have high expectations for the quality of these comments? Nope. This is a place to state your opinion and work out ideas.
  • Where can I find a revised reading list? Click here.
  • How will you take attendance? See above. Blog comments will serve as attendance and participation. 
  • Where will I find the readings? The readings will be posted on Sakai.
  • When should I do the readings? It’s up to you, but you’ll need to do the readings before posting your comment by Friday, so plan accordingly.
  • How will I keep abreast of changing course policies? Check email as well as this blog.
  • What if I don’t have frequent internet access? Email me when you can and we can work out an accommodation.
  • What if I have internet access, but can’t access the blog to comment? Send me an email with your comment and I’ll post it.
  • What if I am stressed and am having trouble completing the coursework? Email me, and we’ll talk about it.
  • What if I have more questions? Again, email me! Or request to join my virtual office hour from 1:10-2:30 on Thursdays. 


Joy Harjo, A Poem to Get Rid of Fear



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