《英语文学导论 An Introduction to English Literature》课程教学资源（参考资料）Shakespeare Studies Today Romanticism Lost.pdf_P26-P30

22 Shakespeare Studies Today conviction necessary to bring about a more-than-nominal restoration of aesthetic interest to the center of critical practice Desire is,I take it,the fundamentally decisive factor,so let me intro- duce the idea here,beginning with the title of this chapter.As an off-key conflation of Jonathan Loesberg's and Michael P.Clark's titles cited just above,"Return of the Aesthetic?"is designed to highlight the equivo- cations in these phrases.Loesberg's chief claim in A Return to Aesthetics is that the critique of aesthetic discourse in Michel Foucault,Jacques Derrida,and Pierre Bourdieu depends on the principles and assump- tions of the very discourse it purports to critique.As Loesberg describes it,the process by which Foucault and Derrida return to aesthetics occurs in a way largely independent of their own critical purposes.From this angle,it appears that Foucault and Derrida are not so much returning to aesthetics as that aesthetics is returning to them.In the case of Bourdieu, this reversal of trajectory is even more striking.Since Bourdieu wants to claim“scienticity'”for“what he does'”(p.20l),he is eager to occlude the fact that a subjectivity of judgment,like that of aesthetic experience, “permeates'”his own“key anthropological concepts and ideas'”(p.202). As a result,when the aesthetic returns to haunt Bourdieu's critique,it does so in a way that is not only independent of but flatly contradictory to his intentions.Loesberg's way of putting this,that Bourdieu"represses the aesthetic basis of his analysis of culture and finally of aesthetics" (p.201),makes explicit what I have been trying to suggest:a return to aesthetics might be characterized as the return of the repressed. Clark's title points in the same direction.Revenge of the Aesthetic comes from Murray Krieger's claim that the "aesthetic can have its revenge upon ideology by revealing a power to complicate that is also a power to undermine."The reactive tenor of this assertion is strik- ing,and Clark,who takes Krieger's words as the head-quotation for his Introduction,absorbs their aggressive defensiveness into his own originating claim:"the importance of aesthetic values,"he declares, "has taken on a contrarian quality today as aesthetic issues have often been displaced from a field that only twenty years ago could still be called 'literary'theory"(p.1).A similar tone is sustained through to the end of Clark's Introduction,where we find another quotation from Krieger,this one claiming that poetry"warns us to distrust the deci- sions we must make'"and "'to tread with a light foot and a heavy heart.'"As Clark acknowledges,this is "a rather somber burden for a defense of poetry"(p.22). What is common to these discussions is equivocation-frequently reluctance and sometimes even resistance.No one welcomes the

22 Shakespeare Studies Today conviction necessary to bring about a more-than-nominal restoration of aesthetic interest to the center of critical practice. Desire is, I take it, the fundamentally decisive factor, so let me introduce the idea here, beginning with the title of this chapter. As an off-key conflation of Jonathan Loesberg’s and Michael P. Clark’s titles cited just above, “Return of the Aesthetic?” is designed to highlight the equivocations in these phrases. Loesberg’s chief claim in A Return to Aesthetics is that the critique of aesthetic discourse in Michel Foucault, Jacques Derrida, and Pierre Bourdieu depends on the principles and assumptions of the very discourse it purports to critique. As Loesberg describes it, the process by which Foucault and Derrida return to aesthetics occurs in a way largely independent of their own critical purposes. From this angle, it appears that Foucault and Derrida are not so much returning to aesthetics as that aesthetics is returning to them. In the case of Bourdieu, this reversal of trajectory is even more striking. Since Bourdieu wants to claim “scienticity” for “what he does” (p. 201), he is eager to occlude the fact that a subjectivity of judgment, like that of aesthetic experience, “permeates” his own “key anthropological concepts and ideas” (p. 202). As a result, when the aesthetic returns to haunt Bourdieu’s critique, it does so in a way that is not only independent of but flatly contradictory to his intentions. Loesberg’s way of putting this, that Bourdieu “represses the aesthetic basis of his analysis of culture and finally of aesthetics” (p. 201), makes explicit what I have been trying to suggest: a return to aesthetics might be characterized as the return of the repressed. Clark’s title points in the same direction. Revenge of the Aesthetic comes from Murray Krieger’s claim that the “aesthetic can have its revenge upon ideology by revealing a power to complicate that is also a power to undermine.” The reactive tenor of this assertion is striking, and Clark, who takes Krieger’s words as the head-quotation for his Introduction, absorbs their aggressive defensiveness into his own originating claim: “the importance of aesthetic values,” he declares, “has taken on a contrarian quality today as aesthetic issues have often been displaced from a field that only twenty years ago could still be called ‘literary’ theory” (p. 1). A similar tone is sustained through to the end of Clark’s Introduction, where we find another quotation from Krieger, this one claiming that poetry “ ‘warns us to distrust the decisions we must make’ ” and “ ‘to tread with a light foot and a heavy heart.’ ” As Clark acknowledges, this is “a rather somber burden for a defense of poetry” (p. 22). What is common to these discussions is equivocation—frequently reluctance and sometimes even resistance. No one welcomes the

RETURN OF THE AESTHETIC? 23 aesthetic with open arms.There is little here of the pleasure of the text, as Roland Barthes describes it,or of the joyous surprise Wordsworth finds in an imaginative engagement with the natural world,or of the unalloyed delight in such an engagement that Kant,hearing the spontaneous song of a bird,describes as a "pure aesthetical judgment" (Kritik,$42,p.181).All this suggests why,despite all the protestations about a desire to do so,we have been unable to bring aesthetic interest back into the center of literary study.The desire is not adequate to the undertaking.We haven't returned to the aesthetic because we do not really want to. ★★★ During the past thirty years or so,Shakespeareans have transferred criti- cal energy away from literary analysis.We tend to focus less on aesthetic than on historical topics.Instead of asking how Shakespeare's texts work to engage interpretive interest,we ask from what situations the plays were generated,by what audiences engaged,and for what purposes. It was not new for Shakespeareans thirty years ago to ask historical questions.Historical understanding had become obligatory during the nineteenth century,when literary studies took on the responsibilities of disciplinary professionalism.But the more recent"historical turn"was to a different area of subjectivity,situated nearer the bottom of the social order.As this new subject emerged from below the radar of previous work,we focused more on the way different beliefs and assumptions produced different versions of what really happened,so that history,at least as practiced in literature departments,turned into an increasingly historiographic-that is,epistemologically self-conscious-enterprise. From these new perspectives,the often unifying and idealizing conclu- sions of earlier analysis began to look like strategies for containment, and the formal properties-verbal,structural,generic,conventional- with which Shakespearean artifacts seemed formerly to be put together exerted a less compelling claim on our attention than the competing sociopolitical interests that tended to tear Shakespearean texts-and our understandings of these texts-apart. One corollary of the new historical context for Shakespeare studies has been a relocation of the subject from literary to theatrical experi- ence-from the page to the stage,as the familiar binary puts it.Writing and reading are never wholly private or transcendent activities,moti- vated exclusively by a disinterested "purposiveness without purpose" (Kant's phrase,to which I shall return).Rather,to recall Edward Said's

Return of the Aesthetic? 23 aesthetic with open arms. There is little here of the pleasure of the text, as Roland Barthes describes it, or of the joyous surprise Wordsworth finds in an imaginative engagement with the natural world, or of the unalloyed delight in such an engagement that Kant, hearing the spontaneous song of a bird, describes as a “pure aesthetical judgment” (Kritik, §42, p. 181). All this suggests why, despite all the protestations about a desire to do so, we have been unable to bring aesthetic interest back into the center of literary study. The desire is not adequate to the undertaking. We haven’t returned to the aesthetic because we do not really want to. * * * During the past thirty years or so, Shakespeareans have transferred critical energy away from literary analysis. We tend to focus less on aesthetic than on historical topics. Instead of asking how Shakespeare’s texts work to engage interpretive interest, we ask from what situations the plays were generated, by what audiences engaged, and for what purposes. It was not new for Shakespeareans thirty years ago to ask historical questions. Historical understanding had become obligatory during the nineteenth century, when literary studies took on the responsibilities of disciplinary professionalism. But the more recent “historical turn” was to a different area of subjectivity, situated nearer the bottom of the social order. As this new subject emerged from below the radar of previous work, we focused more on the way different beliefs and assumptions produced different versions of what really happened, so that history, at least as practiced in literature departments, turned into an increasingly historiographic—that is, epistemologically self-conscious—enterprise. From these new perspectives, the often unifying and idealizing conclusions of earlier analysis began to look like strategies for containment, and the formal properties—verbal, structural, generic, conventional— with which Shakespearean artifacts seemed formerly to be put together exerted a less compelling claim on our attention than the competing sociopolitical interests that tended to tear Shakespearean texts—and our understandings of these texts—apart. One corollary of the new historical context for Shakespeare studies has been a relocation of the subject from literary to theatrical experience—from the page to the stage, as the familiar binary puts it. Writing and reading are never wholly private or transcendent activities, motivated exclusively by a disinterested “purposiveness without purpose” (Kant’s phrase, to which I shall return). Rather, to recall Edward Said’s

24 Shakespeare Studies Today point from the Introduction,texts "are always enmeshed in circum- stance,time,place,and society-in short,they are in the world,and hence worldly"("The World,"p.35).But theatrical production and playgoing are more immediately implicated in the commercial real- ities of a public market and more closely attuned to the appropria- tive and often contending interests of its spectators.From this angle, the redistribution of critical energy I mentioned at the beginning can be characterized as a turn from the literary to the performance text. Performance was not a new term for Shakespeareans thirty years ago, not even when Dr.Johnson's Prologue at the opening of Drury Lane (1747)acknowledged the theater's economic dependence on popular taste:"The drama's laws the drama's patrons give,/For we that live to please,must please to live"(McAdam,p.89).But like the new history, the new performance criticism has taken a different object of interest. “What,”W.B.Worthen asks,.“are dramatic performances perfor- mances of?"("Drama,"1100).The question is part of an attempt to liberate performance from what Worthen construes as its debilitating attachment to an author and a text.Instead of looking behind them for a static and closed origin,performance critics now look around them to other current performances as the field within which to locate the- atrical meaning.Moreover,they extend this field far beyond the nor- mative confines of earlier work."Since the 1960s,"as Elin Diamond sees it,"performance has floated free of theatre precincts to describe an enormous range of cultural activity"(p.2).Books appear called The Performance of Power (Case and Reinelt)and Performing Nostalgia (Bennett).Judith Butler describes gender as"a kind of doing,an inces- sant activity performed"(p.1).Our "ideas of national identity and imagined history"are now,according to Thomas Postlewait and Tracy C.Davis,regularly"constructed"in terms of"performed identity,"part of a process by which“the idea of performance”has been“expanded to embrace"a variety of concepts,institutions,and practices,including (all their terms)myth,play,role-playing,ceremony,carnival,everyday life,conventional behavior,and religious and social rituals(pp.28-9). Surveying the "energetically expanding field"of performance studies, Worthen catalogs a similarly wide"range of aims,methods,and objects of inquiry,"made up of(all his terms)ethnographies of performance, psychoanalytic and postcolonial models of representation,institutional studies,studies of street performance,performance art,performance in everyday life,and identity performance(1094).For Diamond,the “terminological expansion'”of“performance discourse,and its new theoretical partner,performativity,"has reached"almost to the point

24 Shakespeare Studies Today point from the Introduction, texts “are always enmeshed in circumstance, time, place, and society—in short, they are in the world, and hence worldly” (“The World,” p. 35). But theatrical production and playgoing are more immediately implicated in the commercial realities of a public market and more closely attuned to the appropriative and often contending interests of its spectators. From this angle, the redistribution of critical energy I mentioned at the beginning can be characterized as a turn from the literary to the performance text. Performance was not a new term for Shakespeareans thirty years ago, not even when Dr. Johnson’s Prologue at the opening of Drury Lane (1747) acknowledged the theater’s economic dependence on popular taste: “The drama’s laws the drama’s patrons give, / For we that live to please, must please to live” (McAdam, p. 89). But like the new history, the new performance criticism has taken a different object of interest. “What,” W. B. Worthen asks, “are dramatic performances performances of?” (“Drama,” 1100). The question is part of an attempt to liberate performance from what Worthen construes as its debilitating attachment to an author and a text. Instead of looking behind them for a static and closed origin, performance critics now look around them to other current performances as the field within which to locate theatrical meaning. Moreover, they extend this field far beyond the normative confines of earlier work. “Since the 1960s,” as Elin Diamond sees it, “performance has floated free of theatre precincts to describe an enormous range of cultural activity” (p. 2). Books appear called The Performance of Power (Case and Reinelt) and Performing Nostalgia (Bennett). Judith Butler describes gender as “a kind of doing, an incessant activity performed” (p. 1). Our “ideas of national identity and imagined history” are now, according to Thomas Postlewait and Tracy C. Davis, regularly “constructed” in terms of “performed identity,” part of a process by which “the idea of performance” has been “expanded to embrace” a variety of concepts, institutions, and practices, including (all their terms) myth, play, role-playing, ceremony, carnival, everyday life, conventional behavior, and religious and social rituals (pp. 28–9). Surveying the “energetically expanding field” of performance studies, Worthen catalogs a similarly wide “range of aims, methods, and objects of inquiry,” made up of (all his terms) ethnographies of performance, psychoanalytic and postcolonial models of representation, institutional studies, studies of street performance, performance art, performance in everyday life, and identity performance (1094). For Diamond, the “terminological expansion” of “performance discourse, and its new theoretical partner, ‘performativity,’ ” has reached “almost to the point

RETURN OF THE AESTHETIC? 25 of stupefaction"(p.2).As Richard Schechner puts it,"Performativity or,commonly,performance'is everywhere in life"(quoted in Postlewait and Davis,p.33). There is another term whose explanatory reach competes with and probably even exceeds the grasp of "performance"in recent criti- cism,and Diamond identifies it with her reference to "cultural activ- ity.”“Culture'”has been an accommodating concept pretty much from the beginning.According to Raymond Williams in Keywords(a book that in fact originated with reflection on the complicated history of“culture"),the term was“decisively introduced into English”by Edward Burnett Tylor in 1871(p.91).In Tylor's definition,"Culture or Civilization,taken in its wide ethnographic sense,is that complex whole which includes knowledge,belief,art,morals,law,custom,and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society" (p.1).When Clifford Geertz acknowledges the"originative power"of “Tylor's famous 'most complex whole'”(Thick Description,”p.4), he is misquoting;but the added word,"most,"faithfully represents the expansive spirit of the original.Tylor's definition is notable for its comprehensive range of reference.He enumerates an extensive list of the"capabilities and habits"by which people articulate and enact their identities in relation to one another and then,with "any other,"he invites us to extend the list as far as we can,toward an ever-increasing array of practices,the limits of which,like the Topsy-like performance- studies catalogs of a moment ago,are indefinite.(This suggests a way to solve Worthen's problem of the limiting referent:"dramatic perfor- mances,"we can say,are "performances of culture.")If,as Walter Benn Michaels suggests,"your culture is nothing more than what you do" (p.138),it is also nothing less,and nothing seems to be left-or left out. Culture in this "wide ethnographic sense,"is all-inclusive.Culture is everything in life. The shifts I have been describing,from literary study to historical, performance and cultural studies,can be generalized as a turn away from textualism toward the contextualism that Said characterizes as "worldliness."(The terminology is more convenient than precise: "textualism,"strictly speaking,is just a particular kind of contextual- ism,one in which interpretation is regulated by aesthetic interest.)The contextualist turn has often been celebrated for opening up a depleted critical practice to new vistas of experience and newly energized forms of an interpretive will to explore them.Writing in 1989,Stanley Fish affirmed his conviction that"the imperialistic success of literary stud- ies”was“heartening”and“the emergence of cultural studies as a field

Return of the Aesthetic? 25 of stupefaction” (p. 2). As Richard Schechner puts it, “Performativity or, commonly, ‘performance’ is everywhere in life” (quoted in Postlewait and Davis, p. 33). There is another term whose explanatory reach competes with and probably even exceeds the grasp of “performance” in recent criticism, and Diamond identifies it with her reference to “cultural activity.” “Culture” has been an accommodating concept pretty much from the beginning. According to Raymond Williams in Keywords (a book that in fact originated with reflection on the complicated history of “culture”), the term was “decisively introduced into English” by Edward Burnett Tylor in 1871 (p. 91). In Tylor’s definition, “Culture or Civilization, taken in its wide ethnographic sense, is that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society” (p. 1). When Clifford Geertz acknowledges the “originative power” of “Tylor’s famous ‘most complex whole’ ” (“Thick Description,” p. 4), he is misquoting; but the added word, “most,” faithfully represents the expansive spirit of the original. Tylor’s definition is notable for its comprehensive range of reference. He enumerates an extensive list of the “capabilities and habits” by which people articulate and enact their identities in relation to one another and then, with “any other,” he invites us to extend the list as far as we can, toward an ever-increasing array of practices, the limits of which, like the Topsy-like performancestudies catalogs of a moment ago, are indefinite. (This suggests a way to solve Worthen’s problem of the limiting referent: “dramatic performances,” we can say, are “performances of culture.”) If, as Walter Benn Michaels suggests, “your culture is nothing more than what you do” (p. 138), it is also nothing less, and nothing seems to be left—or left out. Culture in this “wide ethnographic sense,” is all-inclusive. Culture is everything in life. The shifts I have been describing, from literary study to historical, performance and cultural studies, can be generalized as a turn away from textualism toward the contextualism that Said characterizes as “worldliness.” (The terminology is more convenient than precise: “textualism,” strictly speaking, is just a particular kind of contextualism, one in which interpretation is regulated by aesthetic interest.) The contextualist turn has often been celebrated for opening up a depleted critical practice to new vistas of experience and newly energized forms of an interpretive will to explore them. Writing in 1989, Stanley Fish affirmed his conviction that “the imperialistic success of literary studies” was “heartening” and “the emergence of cultural studies as a field