So what’s up with lacunagroup at present? The group is all about it’s blog threads. Wherever they lead, that’s what we’re doing. As always, we are interested in an active and collaborative creative process. The real work of lacunagroup is as much in the thread as anywhere else. The work goes forward as the thread goes forward. Cryptic, isn’t it?
If you read through comments in the previous post, you’ll follow, in part, the beginnings of a film project. Take a look. The work will be carried forward on this blog as well as in cameras and editing. Please collaborate if you find it interesting. The blog exists for you to make of the work what you will.
Let me throw out another possibility for a project before I talk myself into seeing it as irrelevant. Consider it another start for some kind of collaborative exploration which could turn into something beyond the blog or not. lacunagroup, I hear tell, on occasion, tries to find its way toward working with performances.
A slight, practically inconsequential personal association to autumn. Too general and indistinct to be a memory. What is it, then? Images to accompany a feeling of warm containment. My brother taught me how to throw a spiral during the Thanksgiving holidays one year. Then I was inside watching one of those Hannah-Barbera animated versions of a classic book which always seemed to be on tv during Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. Between those two sets of sensations fall all of autumn, for me. And all of Winter, too, actually.
So I may spend some of my time on the blog working with this bit of stuff (bit of fluff?). In what way? Who knows? And it is available for anyone else who might want to take it somewhere. My interest is in using the material for any and all manner of ways to step off into experimentation. Still cryptic? Remember, we may not necessarily know what we’re after at the outset. And once someone does know something, it becomes one aspect now maybe feeding or inspiring other gestures. Or not. My hope is that the form things begin to take may be new and challenging.
Why this bit of material as a starting place? Exactly. Good question. And so it begins. I want to investigate it because it’s always there, particularly as the weather changes. Something, too, about it being apolitical and unspecific. Achieving a spiral was like learning to carry out a magic act and transform physical laws. Male bonding, of course. Initiation. Being home. My brother called me “Flash,” and I remember always laughing uncontrollably. The containment of autumn related to the containment present before sleep. Preference for autumn and winter as depressive. Others are free to take it up in some way. Or I may get encouraged to set it aside as my interests drift into something else emerging on the thread.
You’re hunting with the big dogs now, my friend. You can’t just quote Wittgenstein and safely return to hide in your cloud of unknowing. That strategy may have gotten you left alone by reverent freshman pledges, but here we don’t leave mysticism to have the last word. And what did Ludwig do upon completing the Tractatus? He began playing language games.
Okay. My idea has been to see if Lacanian discourse analysis can be used for creative play and exploration. The “Master’s discourse” is the first and foremost in most explanations, so I thought I would start with it. Lacan posits structures, based on the experience of psychoanalytic communication, which sustain (make effective) certain kinds of subjective states and interpersonal exchanges. The Master’s Discourse is the privileging of an idea or concept or truth or assertion, marked by variable S1. It can be the word of the Master or it can be you speaking with the authority of the Master. “I’m a people person.” Even some stupid assertion about yourself can be structured as the Master’s discourse. “Democracy. We’re bringing them Democracy.” It can be political or ideological. “I am that I am.” “You must lose your life to save it.” “Ah, Mozart.” It’s any word or idea designed to create the illusion of consensus. Something not to be disputed. The Master does not want to be disputed. The Master’s word is…the Master’s word.
What happens when there is an S1 in the position of the Master’s word? Under the S1, under awareness, covered-up, unconscious or disregarded, is the divided subject, S(/). In Christian theology, we might say that only Christ spoke S1’s without the presence of S(/). In other words, without sin, without error, without competing and contradictory interests or motives (“why has thou forsaken me” was uttered, you see, not covered up). To be an uttering human, in other words, is to be a divided subject. The Master’s discourse attempts to assert something without acknowledging that fact.
The Master wants what? Wants the other to hear and obey? Or at least agree and work to produce a body of knowledge inspired by the Master’s word, S2. Servants, disciples, apologists, scholars. When we hear an S1 and nod, what are we connecting to? What S2’s get activated. How do we demonstrate our compliance? Or what do we want others to show us when we offer an S1?
Under the bar of the S2 is the pesky a. There is always a part of the receiver that the S1 doesn’t reach. Or there is always another knowledge (S2) that runs counter to or apart from what the Master consciously desires. The a is a kind of excess or remainder, a piece of bodily information, a bit of meaning, an image, it can find many forms, or remain formless, that escapes the operations set in motion by the S1. Often it might be something slippery and unreliable in language itself.
The full effect of the Master’s discourse requires all of the elements in the structure. In other words, part of the effect of the S1 lies in the unacknowledged division and in that worrisome bit of unassimilated excess.
The game is just a way to take apart meanings we have held and asserted, to chart the dilemma that grounds the assertion.
Another provocative way to put it: S1 is seeking perpetuation through S2; but S(/) is also going after the a, and often in a way that completely undermines S1–>S2, while still obscenely supporting it. Part of the Master’s power is in charisma, etc.
You just speculate. And render the forces in the structure in some way that seems true for you. Demonstrations to follow but no need to wait for them. Every subject S(/) is unique.
Sounds kind of like the politics of S & M.
I will respond to your comment as if it were a genuine observation offered in goodwill and not grandstanding to cast suspicion on my agenda.
The politics of S & M, from the psychoanalytic point of view, is the inversion of the fundamental relationship between the subject S(/) and the object a, that troubling thing that motivates desire or attempts to eclipse the poor subject in annihilation through jouissance (a more plausible version of the infamous “death drive”).
The “formula” for perversion is a–>S(/), the inversion of fantasy, in which someone (the sadist) tries to occupy the place of the object and dictate the terms of the subject’s encounter with jouissance. So, yes, the possibility of S&M is the shadow of the fantasy. The fantasy is an unconscious structuring of the encounter with The Thing and works like a black hole around which the S1’s and S2’s circulate, subtly influencing trajectory.
Meaning in this form of discourse analysis is always relational. Lacan was influenced by Hegel’s notion of the Master-Slave dialectic. He also found correspondences between the Kantian categorical imperative and Sade’s imperative to obtain complete enjoyment in relation to the partner, other, victim, subject, call it what you will. He was also influenced by Saussure’s linguistics and the idea that meaning lies in the difference between two positions. And of course psychoanalysis itself is played out in an encounter. Two place holders. S(/) & a. S1 & S2. S2 & a. S(/) & S1. Always a relation.
The S&M scenario enacts a relational truth that lurks in all experiences of meaning.
In discussing the ways and means of S&M, Lacan also offers that the sadist occupies the place of the absolute law in order to cover up “his” divided subjectivity. In essence he jettisons his poor beleaguered subjectivity into his partner. When he enacts a–>S(/), he is enacting one possibility for S1–>S2 and therefore a possible dimension of the Master’s discourse.
In the words of Eddie Izzard: “So…yeah.” Your observation is spot on in my opinion.
So, to recap:
S1: It is.
S2: Is it? Huzzah!
S(/): Uh-uhh.
a: Tee-hee.
Or is that not right?
OK, let’s give this a try, then.
S1: Barbaric Yawp
S2: Yawp!
S(/)”Song of Myself” in its entirety (nothing barbaric about that!)
a: People don’t read, but they do watch Robin Williams movies.
or
S1: Love thy brother as thyself.
S2: I love Jesus because He makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I am a bad person if I do not love Jesus and assent to his word.
S(/): Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law–a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.
a: Tao.
Nicely done. At the risk of praising like a humorless school marm, I appreciate how you have already creatively exploited the possibilities in putting these little schema together– each one a thumbnail portrait of some relatively profound situation in the human condition.
I like to think about possibilities for dynamically playing out the relations. In the case of the Master’s discourse, I like thinking about illustrating the unconscious fantasy (S(/)–>a) slithering about beneath some particular pronouncement (S1–>S2), sustaining it and corrupting it at once.
Another one. The University’s discourse. Remember the framework:
Agent—–>Other
—– —–
“truth” excess product (waste?)
Based on our play with the Master’s discourse, make something of this.
S2——>a
— —
S1 S(/)
Before we move on, a Master’s comment: each of our examples, or indeed any such structure, becomes a Master’s discourse in its entirety. It’s a hall of mirrors, leaving behind the Ding an sich.
I’m not sure I approve.
Discuss.
I agree with you, Dale. But so long as you look at it as play, as metaphorical, these little exercises can still be resonant and revelatory. Like a poem or a song.
The Master’s discourse cannot be avoided. We only attempt to explore the structure of chosen instances. If the offerings so far seem too neat and glib, in a way upholding the privileged regard of the analyst, perhaps there is a ways to approach the schema which will invite the Ding an sich, the “a” in this instance, to disrupt in a messier fashion. Less teleology, more doo-doo. Always we must note what is left behind. And smell it.
I hope soon to have the serenity of mind to lay out my own take. That longed-for guilt-free sit. And spin?
Think of S(/)—-> a as the search for an obscene, unspeakable enjoyment. Find echoes in the S1—->S2 which point toward that shadowy encounter. Meanings are always compromised, contingent, guilty. I’ll quote myself: We want to enjoy the hamburger without thinking about what goes on in the abattoir, especially that idiotic grin on the face of the guy with the pole-axe.
I quit searching for meaning a long time ago. It seemed like just a bunch of racket. Now I search for experiences. Or, it would be more accurate to say, “I experience.” Trying not to sound pretentious. Sorry if it comes off that way. Just sharing.
I, on the other hand, always search for meaning, even when I know it is constructed, as it must be, and even if it is inexplicable. That is what the recapitulation in “Blake Leads a Walk on the Milky Way” is, that marvelous major key restatement of the opening theme: meaning. What does it mean? It means.
Or, you can just experience it.
Remember, we’re not talking about “the meaning of life” here. When I refer to meanings, rather, I mean the quotidian effect of signifiers, what we are born into, the Other’s universe, why names matter, why we choose the socks we do each day. Inescapable. Meaning as it relates to speech and knowledge and identity.
Remember that pretty much every “I” statement can be interpreted as an instance of the Master’s discourse and can be explored with that particular schema (among others).
You are being invited to play with the possibility of seeing yourself as a dupe, of trying to overturn your own reliable rocks and see what’s underneath. Why? For me it’s a creative avenue.
My last comment is paranoid. It’s not usually our sense of “meaning” we have to worry over or question (unless we choose to go into analysis). It’s the meanings of others we have to worry about. “They” don’t really believe in “live and let live,” now do they? We’re at the mercy of other people’s meanings (I guess I just stumbled into a production of No Exit).
Yes, you can (and should) just experience it–but if you’re the creator, that’s not the option, not while you’re creating it.
Wedged as I am in between D’s and J’s last exchange, I was prompted to think about the non-coincidence of Being and Meaning. As good obsessives (just in structure, of course, not necessarily in sanitary practices) all three of us, the Moe, the Larry, and the Curly, have mixed feelings about the Other insisting we deliver up meanings. In response to this pestering, we seek solutions. One might be to assert “my being is my meaning. Nuff said. How unenlightened of you to pursue the matter.” Or we might try to turn the tables on the Other, “I’ll give you meanings, but on my terms. I’ll be the master of meanings. So there.” Early on in the game, we obsessives had experiences in which we were, seemingly just through our being there, exactly what the Other wanted. Our being, supposedly, was the object of the Other’s desire. That state of affairs is one we wish to perpetuate. Which is why our ultimate question, unconscious possibly, for the Other is always a variation of “am I alive or dead?” Being as the final meaning is the issue. Wanting where we are to be what we are. The impossibility of being and meaning dovetailing is what keeps us churning. Mystical experience is another matter, I realize. I’m dealing in daily “domestic” challenges.
Those hysteric in structure are perpetually seeking out what the Other’s meanings are, and what they might come to mean to the Other. Early on in the game they lived with the question of the Other’s desire and they, in turn, desired to be, perhaps, the object of that desire. Through an adventure with meaning. Their simple being was not what the Other wanted. Hysterics ask, “What do I have to be for the Other? What is the ultimate meaning I should assume?” And the most essential differentiating meanings that seem to rest beneath all others? Those pertaining to sexual identity. “Am I a man or a woman?”
I might as well throw in the scheme for the hysteric’s discourse. S(/) is put in the driver’s seat and attempts to question the Other as Master.
S(/)——>S1
_____ _______
a S2
So creation, for you, Dale, is a purely conscious, intentional, rational activity?
Apollo, I bow to thee.
Is it, “I think, therefore I am,” or …
“I am, therefore I think?”
As to marc’s post, I need to think about that one for a while. Or, um, EXPERIENCE it. Let it wash over me.
By the way, am I Larry, Curly, or Moe?
…And meanwhile, somewhere offscreen, the women work.
Mostly, but of course not entirely. There is plenty in my work that is the result of accident or serendipity. But the final product is always, always my conscious polishing of it.
Rationality. “Ration” is in it. Making the most out of what we have. Working with our portion.
An example, by the way, of trying to find an alternate set of meanings (S2) for the S1. I’m attempting what’s called the Analyst’s discourse.
a—->S(/)
— —-
S2 S1
Etymology! Woo – fun!
Side note: I love the word Dale used, “serendipity,” and its etymology. Anyone know the source of the word? Anyone?
Someone made it up, didn’t they? It’s a place name, IIRC.
Serendrepa. Story goes, some folks were on their way to Serendrepa and had a number of what would now be called “serendipitous” adventures!
So I was driving and got to thinking… (first mistake)
Someone had some “property” for sale. In reality, it’s land that’s for sale. But we call it property. Changes how we think of it.
For the Native Americans (here we go again!), land was NOT personal property. It was shared by all, in common. They had personal property, too, of course. Necklaces, clothing, etc. But you couldn’t own land. (I guess we showed them different. With enough guns you can own anything … even people).
So what we call things shapes how we think about it. It’s the box we put it in. I know this isn’t a new concept, but hang with me, here.
So I got to thinking about the word TRUTH.
We say that 2 + 2 = 4 is a “true” statement. Second Law of Thermodynamics. Equally true.
But do we really mean the same thing when we say that a poem or a symphony or even a film feels “true?” It’s emotionally resonant, aesthetically arresting. But is it “true?”
Is it True in the same way that a map is True or an equation is True?
Emotional “Truth.” We’ve all felt it. Rapture. A chord is struck. Maybe we can’t define it, but we all know it when we see it (like pornography.)
Are we somehow tricking ourselves when we use that word — TRUE — for such emotionally resonant experiences? After all, what resonates for me may not resonate with you.
I don’t really want to get into a discussion about cultural relativity here, NOT AT ALL, but I’m hoping we can generate some good discussion on this question.
The floor is open, gentlemen.
I never say a work of art is true. For what it’s worth.
I might say it was sure-footed, or adept, or solid, or ecstatic, or something, but I honestly cannot recall ever saying that something was true. Real, yes, but not true.
btw, my laptop’s dictionary says:
ORIGIN 1754: coined by Horace Walpole, suggested by The Three Princes of Serendip, the title of a fairy tale in which the heroes “were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of.#8221;
Thanks for the lookup.
So, Dale. We’re anxiously awaiting our New Year’s invite. Or must we barbarians storm the gates?
Of course, Dr. Barbara is a barbarian in name only.
We haven’t even discussed New Year’s yet, but if we don’t jet off to Fiji, you’ll be included.
Oh, and Barbara, if your MacBook Pro doesn’t have QuickSilver on it, download it immediately. That’s how I open practically everything these days, and the dictionary lookup is beautiful.
“…And meanwhile, somewhere offscreen, the women work.”
That, gentleman, is TRUTH.
TRUTH is what sits in the gut and cannot be evacuated.
TRUTH is your right hand, especially if your left-handed.
Milton Erikson, father of modern hypnotherapy, said the key to a successful induction is to always give the subject a reason to say “Yes.”
TRUTH gives us cause to say “No.”
When some “art” produces in me the longing for a new way to express my response and, at the same time, is itself the best expression available, that’s TRUTH.
TRUTH is the lobster’s “tamale.” Unless you have developed a taste for it. Then it’s discovering the waiter has no pants and a tear in his testicular sack.
TRUTH plans to reveal the truth, and you can’t do a thing about it.
In psychoanalysis, Lacan’s version, TRUTH is the particularity of the Subject. That’s why you can’t write treatment plans for insurance coverage.
TRUTH is never as bad as you think it will be. It’s worse. Or it isn’t really the truth, just some neurotic fear.
There’s Death, of course. That’s TRUTH.
Don’t forget the TRUTH of the Resurrection.
TRUTH is reaching page 43 for the search term “Karin Schubert.”
TRUTH is translated into English by the idiomatic phrase “And yet…”
You know it’s TRUTH if your friends can’t find a way to bring it up.
TRUTH is being certain the next epithet will be “the One.”
TRUTH you have to give in to.
Embrace TRUTH? Right.
So true.
Or not.
With any luck.
If one can call it that.
My favorite is “You know it’s TRUTH if your friends can’t find a way to bring it up.” Classic.
Let me tell you what got me on this subject, other than seeing “property” for sale on Jefferson Street.
You know how literal kids are. Black / white. Is there a God or not? Was Jesus really born on Christmas? How does the Easter Bunny fit into all of this? Does the Tooth Fairy know Jesus? They know more than they think they know.
Anyhow, when I take my kids to the flicker show, the subject always comes up. “Daddy, is this true?” I almost always tell them, “Yes.” Even if the story involves talking, armored polar bears.
Why do I do that? To fill their heads with delusions?
Why, yes. That’s exactly why.
For me, asking “Is it true?” is the wrong question. The question should be, “HOW is it true?” And, flip side, “How is it false?”
Even documentaries aren’t “TRUE.” What was edited out? Why did they choose THAT camera angle and not some other? What lies outside the frame? Who did they NOT interview?
And that classic tagline, “based on the SHOCKING TRUE STORY!”
Ok, let’s not privilege certain stories above others. Is the latest TV movie of the week, ripped some tabloid headline, REALLY more true than The Godfather, parts I and II?
So that’s the context. That’s why I have ascribed Truth to films, particularly. In response to the nagging questions of children. I could not, in good conscience, tell them that “THe Boy in the Plastic Bubble” is true but “Peter Pan” is not.
But am I wrong? Have I used the wrong word?
I will scour marc’s Post 78 for the answer. I’m sure it’s in there somewhere.
Post 78 = Jubilate Agno?
Who is the response to your children really for? In truth?
Hey, that reference to Christopher Smart is also, I think, a way to speak about the delights of form.
And to wrap it all up in a neat little bundle, what time and place are most apt for exploring the joys that forms can offer if not around the fire. I’m almost tempted to say form makes invention possible. Consider bardic chants at fireside. Consider ceremonial dance. Form as primordial. The wild seizing of formal opportunity is Dionysian abandon. I took TRUTH to a movie and she spent the time looking for gum under the seats. I took TRUTH to a movie and she disappeared with an usher. I took TRUTH to the movie; she didn’t tell me she’d seen it already. I took TRUTH to the movie; she expected a running summary; in Sanskrit.
You’re absolutely right. Form makes invention possible.
Truth must have a nice form, by the way. I’m thinking 36-24-36. She sounds awfully high maintenance.
TRUTH’s a bitch, and that’s no lie.
“The wild seizing of formal opportunity
IS
Dionysian abandon.”
Metaphor in action, my friends.
Thus endeth the comments for this post, think we? I vote JB start the next one. If Dale consents to hand over the password.
Not a problem.