new reading devices
I’ve been thinking about getting one of the two new reading devices that are coming out shortly. Tomorrow, Plastic Logic unveils its QUE ProReader at CES. From what I’ve read over the last year, this device is larger than most ereaders, built for business documents, and is flexible — that is, the device can be bent and maybe even rolled up without the screen being damaged. How cool is that? Also, sometime this month, Apple is supposed to unveil its tablet computer meant for reading books, watching movies, etc. It’s rumored to come out in March. I think these are two exciting reading devices that may (or may not) ameliorate some of the problems with devices like the Sony Reader: small screen size, subpar navigation, lack of flexibility, a touch screen that’s not as cool as the iPhone, and limited annotation abilities.
I’m imagining all those journal articles filling up filing cabinets in my bedroom and in piles on my floor. Yes, I could be reading them on my laptop, but it’s hard to read them on there (for me) because of the way I’m used to reading on my laptop (no more than a few pages at a time) and the way I like reading journal articles (a pen in hand). But then I imagine all that space cleared up as the journal articles sit on an electronic device. I can’t wait to learn more about these two devices.
Bersani (1995): Homos
Homos by Leo Bersani
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I largely picked up Leo Bersani’s Homos because it is well known in queer theory for the formulation of the anti-social thesis, which posits that there is something inherently anti-social about homo-ness. Some extensive notes:
Bersani’s prologue begins by discussing a danger he sees in much queer theory: the critique of the supposed naturalness of straight, gay, and lesbian identities is much needed, but “they are not necessarily liberating” (4) because they often erase sex (”desexualizing discourses”) and because “the dominant heterosexual society doesn’t need our belief in its own naturalness in order to continue exercising and enjoying the privileges of dominance” (5). Bersani’s approach, then, is in part a continued critique of the naturalness of sexuality, but also an attempt to find something liberating about non-heterosexuality, as well as continuing to privilege the sexuality of homosexuality.
He posits his anti-social thesis of queer theory: “Perhaps inherent in gay desire is a revolutionary inaptitude for heteroized sociality. THis of course means sociality as we know it, and the most politically disruptive aspect of the homo-ness I will be exploring in gay desire is a redefinition of sociality so radical that it may appear to require a provisional withdrawal from relationality itself” (7).
Chapter 1 explores homophobia, noting that “homophobic America itself appears to have an insatiable appetite for our presence” (11). While acceptance of queers has grown, so has anti-queer activism and homophobia. Bersani believes that part of acceptance is also related to the expectation that queers will all die of AIDS (this was published in 1995): “In fact, no one can stop looking. But we might wonder if AIDS, in addition to transforming gay men into infinitely fascinating taboos, has also made it less dangerous to look. For, our projects and our energies notwithstanding, others may think of themselves as watching us disappear” (21). Homophobia is also a unique type of hatred: racism depends upon the existence of non-whites, but homophobia does not depend on the existence of homosexuals. It is, instead, “entirely a response to an internal possibility” of being homosexual oneself (27). Of course, homosexuality cannot be eradicated, and thus, homophobia, “itself the sign of the ineradicability of homosexuality, [. . .:] must remain” (29).
Chapter 2 involves detailed engagements with Wittig, Butler, Halperin, and Warner, whom Bersani charges, among other things, for desexualizing discourse about queers. Bersani then argues that “unless we define how the sexual specificity of being queer (a specificity perhaps common to the myriad ways of being queer and the myriad conditions in which one is queer) gives queers a special aptitude for making that challenge [to institutions:], we are likely to come up with a remarkably familiar, and merely liberal, version of it [that challenge:]” (72-73). Bersani pushes these theorists for not being radical enough. For Bersani, “There is a more radical possibility: homo-ness itself necessitates a massive redefining of relationality. More fundamental than a resistance to the normalizing methodologies is a potentially revolutionary inaptitude—perhaps inherent in gay desire—for sociality as it is known” (76).
Chapter 3 is a strong critique of discourses about sadomasochism, many of which argue that there is something liberating about S/M because of the ways in which partners switch roles and play with power. But Bersani is more skeptical: “Sometimes it seems that if anything in society is being challenged, it is not the networks of power and authority, but the exclusion of gays from those networks” (85). Bersani argues that S/M doesn’t challenge privilege—it leaves privilege in tact and extends privilege (temporarily), making S/M “profoundly conservative in that its imagination of pleasure is almost entirely defined by the dominant culture to which it thinks of itself as giving ‘a stinging slap in the face’” (87). Sure, S/M plays with power, but it doesn’t critique privilege and authority.
Chapter 4 is where Bersani really outlines his anti-social theory, asking “Should a homosexual be a good citizen?” (113). Through his readings of Gide, Proust, and Genet, Bersani shows how homo-ness can constitute “a political threat [. . .:] because of the energies it releases, energies made available for the unprecedented projects of human organization” (123). Homo-ness, which involves a “self-shattering” (101), and thus a loss of the self and thus a loss of citizenship (125). Bersani proposes that Gide helps to reimagine relationality in ways that do not involve property, but in order to do this, we need to “imagine a new erotics” (128). Proust, according to Bersani, “point[s:] us in the direction of a community in which relations would no longer be held hostage to demands of intimate knowledge of the other” (151). Even more so, Genet helps us to disentangle erotics from intimacy (165). Ultimately, Bersani’s reading becomes an exhort for revolt that rejects relationally: “without such a rejection, social revolt is doomed to repeat the oppressive conditions the provoked the revolt” (172) because “Revolt allows for new agents to fill the slots of master and slave, but it does not necessarily involve a new imagining of how to structure human relations. Structures of oppression outlive agents of oppression” (174). As Bersani understands oppression, “In a society where oppression is structural, constitutive of sociality itself, only what society throws off—its mistakes or its pariahs—can serve the future” (180).
homo christmas
One of my favorite bands, queercore Pansy Division, on Christmas (lyrics NSFW):
the iowa winter
It’s kinda gloomy here today in southwest Iowa. I stole myself away from the parents’ farm to get some wireless internet fix at the tiny public library. The vacation’s been nice so far… read some old journal articles I’ve been meaning to read, some Harper’s magazines from months and months ago, and most of the way through Leo Bersani’s Homos, which I’m really enjoying. I also, for the first time all season, watched an entire football game (or most of it), as Oregon State (unfortunately) got trampled by BYU.
Here’s a pic of the iciness on my the branches of the trees in my parents’ backyard. Today, in the wind, the crackling was a gorgeous sound:
End of term cleansing
So a pic for you. At the end of the term, I hadn’t shaved in two weeks. Felt gross. Decided I needed to cleanse myself of the term by shaving my face and dying my hair back to red. It feels good to be a red-head again:
what a term! whew!
I’m sitting with a cup of coffee about to head out of town for break. So, it’s time for a way-too-brief reflection on the term that just ended and I thought would kill nearly everyone I know. Well, that’s hyperbolic. But seriously, what with the cases of flu my friends got, the heavy workload (it seemed more than usual), this term kicked many people hard. Myself included. At one point, staring down three seminar papers, I didn’t see how I was going to do it. But I did.
So now, drum roll: I’m done with course work! Next term, I read for comprehensive exams, which I’m pretty excited about.
But today, I get on a jet plane to Iowa (well, a jet and then a little tiny plane) for nine days of wintery rural bliss. It’ll be nice to just lay around and read and try to avoid that television (that’s always on) at my parents’ house. And see my cousins (who I am missing as they grow up) and maybe see some old college friends. Also, I’m spending New Years Eve in Austin, which is exciting, as I’ve never been there and hear so many wonderful things.
This post also marks a new resolution for me: I want to blog more often again. I think with reading for comps, I’ll have things to write about. I’ll probably need to write about what I read for it to sink in, as I won’t be discussing the content in courses.
I’m excited for what 2010 may bring.
friendly in what ways?
The PSU Daily Collegian reported last week that Penn State earned five starts for its LGBT-friendly learning environment according to Campus Pride. The report is based on programming and services, so it doesn’t accurately reflect the “friendly learning environment.” As is pointed out in the article, there isn’t a mention of who or how many students access these services, nor a good representation of how students actually feel about being here.
Not that you can ever fully get the gestalt of such a thing in a report like this.
But it seems highly disingenuous to release such a report while ignoring the lived experiences of students on campus. Just last night a friend of mine was walking home downtown, and he was called a slur. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard “faggot” downtown or had friends tell me about being called “faggot” over the last few months.
Of course, most of these instances are downtown, and these things happen everywhere, so one might say that’s not part of the learning environment. But when these slurs are coming from fellow students, it’s quite obvious this is going to carry over to a campus climate.
Additionally, I know students who have had to deal with threats and slurs written on their dry erase board of their residence hall doors, who have felt excluded in classrooms by their peers, who have had problems regarding exclusion in student organizations, all because of their sexual orientation. The school’s past support of discrimination in the sports program, as recently as 2007, is reprehensible. This includes keeping Rene Portland on as women’s basketball coach for so long. And don’t tell me this doesn’t communicate something to students (those students aware of it).
I don’t mean to portray the situation here as awful, because it isn’t, and it could be much worse. I just have a lot of hesitancy granting reports like this any credence when their methods are so limited. Even with the admission of those limitations, I think assigning numbers and trying to be quantitative about it just gives universities another selling point. I don’t really want Penn State to say they earned five stars in the Campus Climate Report. Because it’s not a five-star place when it comes to LGBT-friendly learning environments.
What if these types of reports, instead of trying to quantify things (all these rankings reek of instrumental rationality), they instead offered extended narratives from a variety of perspectives? What if, if I’m interested in really knowing opportunities and setbacks at a place, I could read or watch or listen to various stories that explained people’s lived experiences in a place?
This is a lot of work for groups collecting research, and takes a lot of attention from those interested in the reports. But the information available would be a lot richer and evocative of the learning environment.
The Campus Climate Index is available here.
draft of queer rhetorics bibliography
I’ve created a draft of a bibliography titled “Articles, Books, and Book Chapters about Gay, Lesbian, Trans, and Queer Rhetorics, Queering Rhetoric, Literacy and Sexuality, and the Queer in Composition,” encompassing all the stuff I’ve managed to find regarding those topics. I’m attaching a word document to this post in case you want to download it, and please let me know if there’s anything I’ve left off!
(old file removed)
EDIT: I should note that I didn’t include scholarship from outside rhetoric (like Butler, queer theory out of literature, etc.), even if it was clearly rhetorical. I did include a few things, though (like anthropologist Valentine’s ethnography of transgender).
EDIT (28 December 2009): I updated the list to include some things I’ve forgotten or were notified about. It’s still not complete, but I think it’s pretty close: queer-rhetorics-version2 (.doc file)
updates and notes
Wow, it’s really been a month and a half since my last post. I guest that’s a testament to how busy I’ve felt. I’ve had moments where I’ve wanted to write here, but I’ve felt so exhausted or need to work on something else. It’s a busy term. Nothing new there, though oddly this term seems to be even busier than others. It also seems like I say that every term.
So, what’s new? Last time I wrote I had quit smoking. I failed. I was sick. I got over that, and the migraines stopped, though they’ve returned again. Nothing major — they’re not as debilitating as they have been in the past, but it’s still annoying and prevents getting some work done.
I’m struggling to get my two conflicting drives toward work, organization, and order to collaborate properly. I’m not a huge advocate of astrology (okay, I think it’s bunk), but in this aspect of my life, I think it has explanatory power. I’m a Virgo/Libra cusp, and sometimes my Libra “big picture/balance/go with the flow” aspect takes control, and sometimes my Virgo “everything must be structured, ordered, and scheduled” aspect is in control. The thing is, they can’t find a balance! I tack back and forth between obsessive structuring and laid back big picture it’s all okay. Not a huge deal often, but it seems like one drive kicks in when the other would be more appropriate.
In the works:
• Stuart, Rebecca, and I are working on an article on ebook readers, which was moving along fine and smoothly (though with some delays). Then Stuart got the page proofs back from a book, and we’ve switched over to indexing and proofreading mode, so the article is on the backburner. However, in September and August, I think I skimmed or read a hundred articles on ereading.
• In my Kenneth Burke seminar, I’m working on a paper on Burke’s views on communication technologies in the 1920s/30s. Not really sure where it’s going, but it’s interesting. I’m struggling with his humanist approach, which sees technologies as instruments. But this seminar has been a huge success so far: some of the best discussions I’ve had in a course, some great ideas flowing in class and in my head. Before the course, I think I had read a total of 30 pages of Burke, but now I’ve read the all or most of five of his books, parts of two more, and will read even more of his work. Things I love: His early work in the 30s, and Language as Symbolic Action. Things that weren’t as interesting to me: A Grammar of Motives and A Rhetoric of Motives (though there are certainly things I liked about both books).
For those of you not in rhetoric (if anyone still reads this), Burke is like the 20th century American Aristotle to rhetoric, which has it’s benefits (after all, he wrote about rhetoric from the 1920s to the 1980s), but also some drawbacks (there’s a bit of a fetish for him, I think). But I’ve enjoyed his work quite a bit.
• My Burke seminar led me to learn about Hart Crane, 1920s homosexual poet, who has become a bit of an obsession of mine. I’m working on a paper in another class on him and his poetic theories (what little there is—but it’s rich!), which I’m co-opting (in some way!) into rhetorical theory. We’ll see how this goes. It’s either going to be a major catastrophe or interesting. Either way, I feel a strong pull toward the early 20th century again, one I haven’t felt really since I was an undergraduate. Perhaps it’s the changes of the time: World War I, war technologies, rising communication technologies, changing sexualities.
• My third class’s project is even less conceptualized, but I’m interested vaguely in collective memory, racism, and internet technologies. We’ll see where this develops. But I’ve got to really get pounding on work.
I’m eager for Thanksgiving Break, when I’m flying to Oregon for almost the entire break. I’ll get to see old friends, sit in familiar coffee shops (and research and write!), and hopefully re-charge a bit as well. And Winter Break’s taking me back to Iowa for a bit, and then to visit a friend who’s studying at UT Austin (in urban planning). I’m already thinking about next term, when I’ll be reading for comps (among other things). Of course, I should be thinking about next term. Gotta solidify those comps lists sometime.
changes and such
Wow, I can’t believe how quickly time is passing. I guess that’s cliché, and I’ve written something along those lines various times. I’ve been meaning to write here more often, but it just seems like I am always reading or writing for something else, and when I’m not, I don’t want to be writing more (unless it’s stupid Facebook, which is more just phatic). But there have been important changes recently:
This is day 12 of having cold symptoms. At this point, it’s just the occasional cough, but man, it has sucked. Especially as I’ve found I just want to rest more and I really need to be writing more. But health first, I guess.
I also quit smoking on Sunday, and I’ve been doing fairly well: only 2 cigarettes this week, and two Black & Mild cigars on my birthday Wednesday. At this point, I’m thinking about my cravings for cigarettes a lot less, which is great. I can’t tell if certain “symptoms” are symptoms of my cold or nicotine withdrawals (like the occasional headache or fatigue)—or perhaps even both.
I’ve wanted to live in a city for years, and have instead been living in small college town after small college town. There’s a cute little town just north of State College named Bellefonte, with old Victorian architecture and just this pleasant feeling to it. I decided I needed a change of scenery last weekend and went and got coffee at this cute little coffee shop in downtown Bellefonte, where I worked for a few hours. I could see myself living here next year: getting out of State College, being in a quieter, more gorgeous area. I’ll be dissertating, so it’d be good to get away from things and be in a cute, quiet town.
So I’m back in Bellefonte this afternoon, after stopping in Peru (a village! I am so not used to places being actually signed as “village”) to get my PA driver’s license (finally). I’m going to read and get some brainstorming done for some projects. And I’m sitting in the window of this coffee shop, and a group of preschoolers or kindergartners walked by with their teacher. Some waved, but my favorite was the little boy who picked his nose and flicked his booger with flair.
