Welcome to The Valve

Valve Links

The Front Page
Statement of Purpose

John Holbo - Editor
Scott Eric Kaufman - Editor
Aaron Bady
Adam Roberts
Amardeep Singh
Andrew Seal
Bill Benzon
Daniel Green
Jonathan Goodwin
Joseph Kugelmass
Lawrence LaRiviere White
Marc Bousquet
Matt Greenfield
Miriam Burstein
Ray Davis
Rohan Maitzen
Sean McCann
Guest Authors

Laura Carroll
Mark Bauerlein
Miriam Jones

Past Valve Book Events

cover of the book Theory's Empire

Event Archive

cover of the book The Literary Wittgenstein

Event Archive

cover of the book Graphs, Maps, Trees

Event Archive

cover of the book How Novels Think

Event Archive

cover of the book The Trouble With Diversity

Event Archive

cover of the book What's Liberal About the Liberal Arts?

Event Archive

cover of the book The Novel of Purpose

Event Archive

The Valve - Closed For Renovation

Happy Trails to You

What’s an Encyclopedia These Days?

Encyclopedia Britannica to Shut Down Print Operations

Intimate Enemies: What’s Opera, Doc?

Alphonso Lingis talks of various things, cameras and photos among them

Feynmann, John von Neumann, and Mental Models

Support Michael Sporn’s Film about Edgar Allen Poe

Philosophy, Ontics or Toothpaste for the Mind

Nazi Rules for Regulating Funk ‘n Freedom

The Early History of Modern Computing: A Brief Chronology

Computing Encounters Being, an Addendum

On the Origin of Objects (towards a philosophy of computation)

Symposium on Graeber’s Debt

The Nightmare of Digital Film Preservation

Richard Petti on Occupy Wall Street: America HAS a Ruling Class

Bill Benzon on Whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhat?

Nick J. on The Valve - Closed For Renovation

Bill Benzon on Encyclopedia Britannica to Shut Down Print Operations

Norma on Encyclopedia Britannica to Shut Down Print Operations

Bill Benzon on What’s an Object, Metaphysically Speaking?

john balwit on What’s an Object, Metaphysically Speaking?

William Ray on That Shakespeare Thing

Bill Benzon on That Shakespeare Thing

William Ray on That Shakespeare Thing

JoseAngel on That Shakespeare Thing

Bill Benzon on Objects and Graeber's Debt

Bill Benzon on A Dirty Dozen Sneaking up on the Apocalypse

JoseAngel on A Dirty Dozen Sneaking up on the Apocalypse

JoseAngel on Objects and Graeber's Debt

Advanced Search

RSS 1.0 | RSS 2.0 | Atom

RSS 1.0 | RSS 2.0 | Atom


Powered by Expression Engine
Logo by John Holbo

Creative Commons Licence
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.



About Last Night
Academic Splat
Amardeep Singh
Bemsha Swing
Bitch. Ph.D.
Blogging the Renaissance
Butterflies & Wheels
Cahiers de Corey
Category D
Charlotte Street
Cheeky Prof
Chekhov’s Mistress
Chrononautic Log
Cogito, ergo Zoom
Collected Miscellany
Completely Futile
Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind
Conversational Reading
Critical Mass
Crooked Timber
Culture Cat
Culture Industry
Early Modern Notes
Easily Distracted
fait accompi
Ferule & Fescue
Ghost in the Wire
Giornale Nuovo
God of the Machine
Golden Rule Jones
Grumpy Old Bookman
Ideas of Imperfection
In Favor of Thinking
In Medias Res
Inside Higher Ed
jane dark’s sugarhigh!
John & Belle Have A Blog
John Crowley
Jonathan Goodwin
Kathryn Cramer
Languor Management
Light Reading
Like Anna Karina’s Sweater
Lime Tree
Limited Inc.
Long Pauses
Long Story, Short Pier
Long Sunday
Making Light
Maud Newton
Michael Berube
Motime Like the Present
Narrow Shore
Neil Gaiman
Old Hag
Open University
Pas au-delà
Planned Obsolescence
Quick Study
Rake’s Progress
Reader of depressing books
Reading Room
Reassigned Time
Reeling and Writhing
Return of the Reluctant
Say Something Wonderful
Shaken & Stirred
Silliman’s Blog
Slaves of Academe
Sorrow at Sills Bend
Sounds & Fury
Stochastic Bookmark
Tenured Radical
the Diaries of Franz Kafka
The Elegant Variation
The Home and the World
The Intersection
The Litblog Co-Op
The Literary Saloon
The Literary Thug
The Little Professor
The Midnight Bell
The Mumpsimus
The Pinocchio Theory
The Reading Experience
The Salt-Box
The Weblog
This Public Address
This Space: The Fire’s Blog
Thoughts, Arguments & Rants
Tingle Alley
University Diaries
Unqualified Offerings
What Now?
William Gibson

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

De Man, Fish, and Simulation

Posted by Bill Benzon on 12/14/05 at 11:51 AM

Though de Man was at Hopkins when I was there, I never studied with him, nor even read him. However, prompted by this and that, I decided to pick up Blindness and Insight and read around. The first (though not quite the only) essay I read is “Form and Intent in the American New Criticism.” Consider this passage (p. 25 in Blindness and Insight, 2nd Edition, Revised):

“Intent” is seen, by analogy with a physical model, as a transfer of a psychic or mental content that exists in the mind of the poet to the mind of a reader, somewhat as one would pour wine from a jar into a glass. A certain content has to be transferred elsewhere, and the energy necessary to effect the transfer has to come from an outside source called intention.

This much is what cognitive linguists would later identify as the conduit metaphor. The key text is Michael Reddy’s “The Conduit Metaphor: A Case of Frame Conflict in Our Language about Language” (in Andrew Ortony, ed. Metaphor and Thought, 2nd edition, pp. 164-201). Reddy’s article is based on 53 examples sentences. Here are the first three (p. 166):

(1) Try to get your thoughts across better

(2) None of Mary’s feelings came through to me with any clarity

(3) You still haven’t given me any idea of what you mean

Reddy’s argument is that many of our statements about communication seemed to be based on the notion of sending something (the thought, idea, feeling) through a conduit, hence he calls it the conduit metaphor. He knows that communication doesn’t work that way, but that’s not is central issue. His central concern is to detail the way we use the conduit metaphor to structure our thinking about communication.

Thus both de Man and Reddy are concerned about how we think about communication, but Reddy is considerably more interested in the linguistic variations and details of a certain conception. While I would like to continue with de Man, I think it would be better to turn to Stanley Fish. We can pick some more de Man later if that seems useful.

In his seminal essay on "Literature in the Reader" Stanley Fish made a general point that the pattern of expectations, some satisfied and some not, which is set up in the process of reading literary texts is essential to the meaning of those texts.  Hence any adequate analytic method must describe that essentially temporal pattern.  Of his own method, Fish asserts (Is There a Text in This Class?, p. 28):

Essentially what the method does is slow down the reading experience so that “events” one does not notice in normal time, but which do occur, are brought before our analytical attentions. It is as if a slow motion camera with an automatic stop action effect were recording our linguistic experiences and presenting them to us for viewing. Of course the value of such a procedure is predicated on the idea of meaning as an event, something that is happening between words and in the reader’s mind . . .

A bit further on Fish asserts (p. 32) that "What is required, then, is a method, a machine if you will, which in its operation makes observable, or at least accessible, what goes on below the level of self-conscious response."

In a slightly later essay (1973), “What Is Stylistics and Why Are They Saying Such Terrible Things About It?” Fish takes on an article by the linguist Michael Halliday, remarking that Halliday has a considerable conceptual apparatus - an attribute of many modern linguistic theories, lots of categories and relationships, all tightly defined. After quoting a passage in which Halliday analysis a single sentence from Through the Looking Glass, Fish remarks (p. 80):

When a text is run through Halliday’s machine, it’s parts are first dissembled, then labeled, and finally recombined in their original form. The procedure is a complicated one, and it requires many operations, but the critic who performs them has finally done nothing at all.

Now, though I am familiar with some of Halliday’s work, I’ve not yet read that particular essay.  Still, Fish’s characterization seems fair, and would apply to many similar and even not-so-similar models. Note, however, that he frames Halliday’s essay as one of many lured on by “the promise of an automatic interpretive procedure” (p. 78). That may or may not be a fair characterization of Halliday, but . . . .

Let us take Fish’s call for a machine literally and imagine what literary study might be like if we had such a machine.  The machine I am imagining would take the form of a computer programmed to simulate the human mind in sufficient detail so as to be capable of reading literary texts. Over the last 30 years or so AI folks have been saying such a machine is just around the corner and they no doubt will continue in that hope for the foreseeable future. More to the point, however, is that at the time de Man and Fish were writing the essays I quoted above, new work was being done in the computational simulation of language processes. A variety of techniques were developed for representing semantic information in computational form and these were coupled to parsers so that computers could answer questions about and construct paraphrases of simple natural language texts. Thus, while the prospect of a full and rich simulation of the human mind is ever distant, it is no longer unthinkable. It, or something like, can be and has been done in the small.

But let us fantasize about doing it in the large. What could we have it do?  Well, since it can simulate us, we can have it do anything we can do. We can even create a community of them and have them do anything a bunch of us can do. We can have them all read the same text and argue about its meaning, adopting whatever theoretical perspectives they wish.

This takes us right back to Fish’s remark about Halliday’s system, that it takes texts apart and reassembles them, but otherwise does nothing at all. And so it is with our community of artificial critics. They simply reproduce us, in electronic guise. They do not crank out interpretations any more automatically and reliably and objectively than we do.

So what would be the point of building such an artificial community? The point is in the knowledge we would gain in constructing it and through observing its behavior. We cannot observe what happens in human brains as they read texts, chat with others about them, and even write learned commentary on them. But we could observe the computers doing these things, and thereby learn something about how texts work in our minds.

As we cannot do this, however, what is the point of entertaining the fantasy? Because it opens up, points the way to, a conceptual space in which we can do something, now. Back in the 1970s I thought we could move into that space by constructing the appropriate models, and did considerable work to that end in my 1978 dissertation, Cognitive Science and Literary Theory. Since then it has become obvious to me that theories and models aren’t enough. We need methods of practical analysis that are, in some sense, in advance of any models or theories we might have. We must learn to discern patterns in texts for which we do not have any explanation, which do not seem to have any obvious bearing on meaning, but which are, nonetheless, there in the texts.

Of course, we can already do this, especially with poetry, where we’ve got meter, and rhyme, and other stuff. We have ways of describing those things, and theories that even say they are important. But the study of that “stuff” is peripheral to literary studies, even for those whose theories lead them to regard it as central rather than merely ornamental. The problem is we don’t know how, in any systematic way, to relate those phenomena to meaning.

Perhaps we should bracket meaning for awhile. Or, at best, regard it warily and from a distance.

To be continued . . . . 


Directed here from this more recent post; but it’s very interesting indeed.  I mean the whole of Bill’s interrogation of character etc.  Here:

“since [the AI] can simulate us, we can have it do anything we can do. We can even create a community of them and have them do anything a bunch of us can do. We can have them all read the same text and argue about its meaning, adopting whatever theoretical perspectives they wish …”

This is what this reminds me of: Bruce Thompson’s very funny and perceptive but little-known book The Big Wheel.  At one point he talks about being in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the day, and turning on the TV.  There’s a cartoon on: artificial characters are goofing about; hilarity is being conveyed via a laughter track.  Thompson talks about how he feels as if he is intruding into a perfectly hermetic little world; un-characters are performing and an un-audience is responding enthusiastically, a sort of ideal artificial text-and-reception event.

Is there a danger, along these lines, in the over-scientificization of literary analysis?  Does it make a sort of fetish of a kind of textual hygiene?  At least Fish is interested in actual, laughing, groaning, nose-picking people as a component in the whole process.

By Adam Roberts on 08/15/06 at 12:03 PM | Permanent link to this comment

Got nothing against nose-picking, Adam, nor anything against science. As for the “over-scientificization of literary analysis,” well that’s certainly a charge that gets tossed my way. Not much I can do about it beyond asserting that that’s not how I see it. I’m doing the best I can with the tools I’ve got available to me and I don’t see that any harm comes to Literature by holding it at arms length for a certain type of analytica scrutiny.

By Bill Benzon on 08/15/06 at 12:45 PM | Permanent link to this comment

Add a comment:



Remember my personal information

Notify me of follow-up comments?

Please enter the word you see in the image below: