Abstract:Life-writing combines, collates, or colludes many lives into one text. No work of fiction, biography, poetry, drama, memoir, journaling, blogging, or autobiography—all of them life-writing—does not do this, either blatantly or surreptitiously. I am interested in forms in which authors do not own up to writing about themselves under the cover of writing about another. This essay will focus on the implications of this generic collusion in writing in health care. Health care professionals are given space within their professional journals (...) to write personal essays about their work. Typically, these essays include a patient portrait or vignette as a means to probe some aspect of clinical practice. Some, not all, of these journals provide guidelines for protecting the privacy/confidentiality of patients described in the essay, including instructions for how to “fictionalize” patients or families to render them non-identifiable, even to themselves. A clinician-author may adopt this genre to illuminate a moment in practice that bears reflection and provides insight into the world of care. Often, however, the essay’s tenor is the author, and the patient is pressed into service as but the vehicle for that examination. The genre may be adopted to confess an error, to lament a woe (generalizable to all readers), to critique the actions of colleagues or patients, or to boast of a successful clinical intervention. Perhaps these essays are all, or should all, be co-authored “duets” by patient and clinician. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:After Extinction ed. by Richard Grusin, and: Anthropocene Poetics: Deep Time, Sacrifice Zones and Extinction by David FarrierChris CrewsRichard Grusin, editor. After Extinction. University of Minnesota Press, 2018. 272pp.David Farrier. Anthropocene Poetics: Deep Time, Sacrifice Zones and Extinction. University of Minnesota Press, 2019. 176pp.Thinking Critically and Poetically with the AnthropocenePublished within a year of each other, Richard Grusin’s edited collection, After Extinction, and David Farrier’s Anthropocene Poetics offer (...) two valuable perspectives on the themes of extinction and the Anthropocene. Most readers are likely familiar with some version of the Anthropocene by now, and its usage in these books (with a few exceptions) follows a common refrain in the humanities and social sciences, where it is used as an umbrella term to describe a wide range of (mostly negative) impacts to the Earth associated with industrial civilization and human activities.The topic of extinction is a much older issue, but increasingly frequent (and alarming) reports about biodiversity loss and extinction from bodies like the United Nations, combined with activism from groups like Extinction Rebellion, have raised its profile. Elizabeth Kolbert’s 2014 book The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History, which performs a sort of Derridean hauntology throughout the pages of After Extinction, further reinforced this trend. As Richard Grusin notes in his Introduction to After Extinction, the book emerged from a conference hosted by the Center for Twenty-First Century Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee which focused on the question of what comes after extinction. Each chapter is thought-provoking, but at times they sat uneasily together, producing a sort of Chthulucenic cacophony drawn from multiple disciplines and themes, from entangled humanism and the power of photography to a rethinking of disability and Indigenous languages in the Anthropocene. [End Page 156]I found David Farrier’s Anthropocene Poetics harder to pin down, despite being a more cohesive text. The book offers a series of ecocritical musings that engage with a series of poets and authors whose work Farrier uses to draw out a poetic imagination of the Anthropocene. Farrier develops this Anthropocene poetics through a dizzying array of textual and artistic examples that draws inspiration from queer ecology and New Materialism (e.g., Elizabeth Grosz, Timothy Morton, Jane Bennett, Quentin Meillassoux) to problematize the liminal spaces and borders between human and non-human agencies and affect, animacies and intimacies, while suggesting that poetry is well suited (perhaps best suited?) to help us rethink our relationship to deep time and geologic agency. While reading Farrier’s book, I could not help but think of Bruno Latour’s comments about how we need a new geostory to help us make sense of the Anthropocene.Farrier engages widely with Donna Haraway and Anna Tsing to develop some key themes, yet there is no attempt to force the concept of the Anthropocene into any prefigured box, despite his study’s grounding in ecocriticism and his stated sympathy with the fledgling field of Anthropocene studies. As Farrier notes, “I pursue a more inclusive approach to defining the Anthropocene, that is, that each discipline must do so according to its own terms and, by implication, that each discipline must reappraise its boundaries and assumptions in the Anthropocene’s shadows” (3). Farrier’s familiarity with both the scientific basis and cultural debates around the Anthropocene allows him to pull this off successfully.A key aim for Farrier is to explore what an Anthropocene poetics might look like, and to show how such a poetics can allow for more fluid engagements with the Anthropocene. He does this through three framing devices: intimacy (deep time), entanglements (sacrifice zones), and swerve (kin-making), each of which allows him to think more deeply about our growing awareness of deep time (past and future) and our entanglements with a changing planet. Farrier suggests this awareness is creating a deeper appreciation for how the human project is (and always has been) deeply bound up with other than human beings and non-human agencies. As Farrier argues: “One of the most striking and unsettling aspects of the Anthropocene is the newly poignant sense that our present is in fact accompanied by deep pasts and... (shrink)

Abstract:The attractiveness of life writings stems from its promise of exceptional intimacy with a writer. Yet that intimacy can come at a cost, especially in relation to writers from marginalized backgrounds. As many of them have noted, they can feel expected to produce vulnerable versions of themselves on the page for the vicarious satisfaction of white audiences. Such satisfactions can become especially problematic in the classroom when life writing by one author is allowed to stand for the experience of an (...) entire social group. This article details strategies for de-essentializing the use of life writing in the classroom by underscoring the complexities both of race and of the classroom reading experience. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:La séduction de la fiction by Jean-François VernayDiana MistreanuVernay, Jean-François. La séduction de la fiction. Hermann, 2019. 214pp.Published in Hermann’s prestigious “Savoirs Lettres” book series founded by Michel Foucault, Jean-François Vernay’s latest work is a compelling neurophenomenology of literary fiction. This makes it a valuable contribution to the burgeoning field of cognitive literary studies pioneered in Anglo-Saxon research in the late 1970s, but which French academia, with a (...) few notable exceptions such as Jean-Marie Schaeffer, Pierre-Louis Patoine, Alexandre Gefen, Catherine Grall, or Françoise Lavocat, is still largely reluctant to embrace. The author is a lecturer in Australian studies at the Global Institute in Sydney, and he is a bilingual literary scholar whose recent research explores the complex interface between fiction and human cognition.Vernay’s book starts by restating a narratological cliché: in the words of Paul Valéry, stories accompany humans from the cradle to the tomb, as monsters, pirates, fairies, and other fantastic creatures fascinate children’s minds from the first years of their lives (7). A truism follows this cliché: the origin of any story is the human brain (16), as the author reminds us by underlining the bio-anthropological origins of fiction in pages that cite the works of Umberto Eco and Nancy Huston (the writer who coined the notion of “espèce fabulatrice,” “the tale-teller species” [2008]), and that echo the research of scholars such as Mark Turner (1996) and Jean-Marie Schaeffer (1999). Indeed, oral and written stories are not only created, but also interpreted by human minds, triggering states and emotions that range from extreme boredom to excitement and inviting identification with fictional characters. Nevertheless, the mechanisms of the interaction between the human mind and brain and one of its most sophisticated products, namely fiction, are largely still understudied in the field of literature. Placing fiction under the sign of seduction (8) – which allows us to read between the lines an homage to Roland Barthes, the theorist of the “plaisir du texte” referenced later in the book (85-86) – Vernay defines works of fiction as catalysts of a sensori-affective experience [End Page 151] that engages almost all our senses and arouses emotions (“le vecteur d’une expérience sensori-affective qui sollicite la quasi-totalité de nos sens et suscite des émois” [19]). Characterized by the interdisciplinarity that forms the core of cognitive approaches to fiction, Vernay’s study investigates the literary phenomenon in its complexity, asking not only how fiction seduces us, but also why it sometimes fails to do so. Drawing on state-of-the-art research in cognitive psychology and neuroscience, the book manages to eschew over-simplified or reductionist analyses. Our engagement with and consumption of literary fiction is thus analyzed by discussing marketing strategies and editorial choices, the activity of reading as a solitary pleasure versus a professional obligation, as well as the interplay between society, politics, and educational curricula. The author answers his multi-layered research question in nine different chapters, each of them exploring one facet of the relationship between literature and the human mind.The first chapter, “Émois livresques,” highlights the marketing value of books, as well as their status as objects of consumption, in the capitalistic sense of the word. Books are presented here as the targets of our desire, since in financial terms, the notion of reader, the author reminds us, is a mere euphemism for that of consumer (20-22). As we are entering the era of what Yves Citton, often quoted in this essay, calls “cognitive capitalism,” a system in which society is conceptualized as a set of machines that process information (21), fictional literature, along with the arts, is devalued. To counterbalance this trend, Vernay explains, the book industry has to adopt effective strategies that create a desire for consumption. Thus, this chapter addresses the editorial and marketing techniques designed to attract our attention and trigger our impulse to buy and read. From the smell and color of books to the blurb and the careful mention of literary prizes, no detail is overlooked or considered redundant.After addressing the... (shrink)

Abstract:Life writers describe extraordinary experiences that often extend far beyond the everyday lives of the readers they are trying to reach. How memoirists try to bring their pasts alive in readers’ minds goes to the heart of why they write. Moving readers emotionally requires close engagement that can often be achieved through sensory simulation. As psychologists such as Lawrence Barsalou and literary scholars such as G. Gabrielle Starr have shown, fiction-writers and poets involve their readers by encouraging them to recreate (...) their own past bodily sensations, especially multi-modal sensations (such as vision and touch) that blend as in lived experience. In this study of Jean-Dominique Bauby’s The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and Natasha Trethewey’s Memorial Drive, I will examine how two gifted memoirists encourage readers to imagine in several sensory modalities at once. Through expert use of language, Bauby and Trethewey open their experiences to a wide range of readers to share the most acute human joys and sufferings. (shrink)

Abstract:This essay explores new technologies of communication, mischievously suggesting that an ordinary memoir, on some fundamental level, is no different from what occurred with a young woman in a persistent vegetative state who “willfully modulated [her] brain activity.” If, as Elaine Scarry famously suggested, readers produce mental imagery “under the instruction of a writer,” then thinking about the role of alternative and augmentative communication (AAC) in providing such instruction might help us to think through the relationship between cognition and generic (...) innovation while, importantly, making room for neurodivergent writers. When George Perec wrote The Void without using the letter “e,” he imposed a restriction that could be said to work a bit like a “tennis-yes, navigation-no” protocol. In Eavesdropping: A Memoir of Blindness and Listening, the blind writer Stephen Kuusisto reinvents travel writing by having hearing and touch take the lead. Narrative itself ends up being transformed. This essay explores how disability puts pressure on the procedures of conventional narrative. (shrink)

Abstract:Qu Yuan (c. 340–278 BC) is often called “the first Chinese poet,” because the primary work attributed to him, Li sao (“Sublimating Sorrow”), is the first in the tradition to evoke a distinctive persona engaged in self-reflection and personal narrative. To explain why this story of frustrated political ambition became arguably the first instance of Chinese autobiography or life writing, this paper uses the notion of “biological handicap,” proposed by Amotz Zahavi. As a peacock’s cumbersome tail feathers reduce its individual (...) chances of survival but communicate valuable information to potential mates, the Li Sao’s poetic persona uses images its audience understood as external marks of invisible, spiritual potency, like long eyebrows and fragrant adornments, to evoke unfulfilled political potential, resulting in an early model of literary interiority. (shrink)

Abstract:Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Quartet – an almost continuous rave of interconnected love and desire, anger and violence – is also a story of the protagonist’s struggle to make sense of her life by writing it. She turns a traditional genre of a young person’s coming of age into a neurologically realistic portrait of the growth of an artist by multiplying narrative voices and by ignoring conventional bounds of narrative probability. Her story of the growth of a creative mind adumbrates well (...) the picture of brains and their processes currently being described and developed as a “predictive processing” model. Work in neurobiology and neurophysiology has been producing empirical demonstrations of the centrality of failure to successful human cognition. (shrink)

Abstract:Cognitive science can help literary scholars formulate specific questions to be answered by archival research. This essay takes, as its starting point, embedded mental states (that is, mental states about mental states) and their role in generating literary subjectivity. It then follows the transformation of embedded mental states throughout several manuscripts of Christa Wolf’s autobiographical novel, Patterns of Childhood (Kindheitsmuster, 1976), available at the Berlin Academy of Arts. The author shows that later versions of Patterns of Childhood have more complex (...) embedments in the chapter describing the adolescent protagonist’s relationship with her schoolteacher. This textual development is integral to the process whereby the presumably authentic memories of the past are constructed to fit the present needs of the person who is doing the remembering. Accompanying the three case studies of the manuscript revision is a discussion of theoretical and practical implications of this “cognitive-archival” approach to literature. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Life Writing and CognitionLisa Zunshine (bio)Consider failure. Evidence from neuroscience suggests that it may be a key element of our cognitive functioning. Failure allows the brain to update its mental models of the environment, a phenomenon known as predictive processing. In the words of Ellen Spolsky (in this special issue of SubStance):[Human understanding] doesn’t roll out in continuous space or time sequence, but rather in multi-level self-correcting loops that (...) depend on prior experience and expectations. It emerges from our bodily actions as well as from our brains, and from our interactions with others. The work is parceled out to various subsystems and entangled with failure.1Literature, of course, is built around failure—or failure narrowly avoided—depending on the genre. There is no story in the perfect interpretation of others, no need for change. Yet, as Joshua Landy reminds us, if one comes to literature hoping to profit by characters’ mistakes, one goes away disappointed. Works of fiction do not provide “insights.” Contrary to common expectation, they are not “oracles” designed to “deliver laws of experience, deep abiding truths about the world, ‘messages’ about who we are and how we function and what we ought [or ought not!] to do” (8). To put it differently, they exploit failure because it is so powerfully tellable, but they do not instruct us how to avoid failures in our own lives.Books in the self-help category position themselves least ambiguously in relation to failure. Their insights are designed to facilitate “self-correcting loops” on high conceptual levels. To anticipate our failures, they assiduously and creatively seek regularities in the world in which nothing (to quote Spolsky again) “in or outside of the brain/body stands still for very long,” and any conclusion is always ready to be destabilized.Life writing approaches failure yet differently—although we must remember that the term covers a broad range of genres: from the bildungsroman [End Page 3] and autobiographical novel on the more “literary” end, to memoirs of particular life experiences that seek to avoid literary styling as part of their commitment to unadorned truth. Although many biographies and autobiographies (e.g., those written by politicians and other public figures, or those concerned with social change) are structured around a plot of overcoming—which is to say, avoiding or reframing failure—life-writing’s relationship with failure is more complicated than this description suggests.First, unlike self-help books, life-writing narratives do not necessarily offer recipes for avoiding failure, because they may be too intricately bound up with the specific circumstances of their authors/protagonists. In that respect, their insights can be as elusive as those offered by fiction. For instance, someone hoping to glean a “message” from Christa Wolf’s Patterns of Childhood may walk away with something along the lines of: if you grow up in Nazi Germany and want to come to terms with your transformation from a teenage acolyte of Hitler to a famous East-German writer, you should write a brilliant soul-searching memoir about the vicissitudes of memory. Easier said than done, and just about as useful to the reader as a message plausibly inferred from Chaucer’s “The Nun’s Priest’s Tale”: “if you [are] a talking rooster, you should beware of talking foxes, talking foxes tending to be particularly seductive” (Landy 23). Which is to say that the allure of “this really happened” does not easily translate into “and here is what you should do to avoid it happening to you or if it happens to you.”Second, some life-writing narratives offer sustained meditations on failure—that is, if we think of failure not in the conventional terms of giving up and ending in disappointment but in the cognitive-scientific terms of flexibility and self-correction—which is to say, they are meditations on being alive to the world. In fact, it can be argued that the “phenomenal” (Couser 3) growth of public interest in life writing in the first decades of this century2 is bound up with the public intuition that there are now many more different ways of failing, that is, of engaging the world... (shrink)

Nearly twenty years after SubStance devoted a special issue to the contemporary French writer we know as Antoine Volodine, we are thoroughly pleased to be publishing in this issue the opening of Dondog, a novel that Ben Streeter has translated with inspired exactitude and brilliant tonal precision. In English or in French, entering Dondog is not unlike entering any other "post-exotic" text. One has to learn how to orient oneself to the ruination of Modernity, within the dysfunctional memories of post-traumatic (...) subjects, between dark humor and luminous despair, in the liminal space between life and death, between humanity and animality, and, in the odd beauty... (shrink)

Abstract:Although Angelina Weld Grimké's 1916 play, Rachel, has historically been read as a sentimental, anti-lynching drama, such classifications might limit the play's anarchic potential. Instead of viewing the characters as responding to anti-Black violence, this paper proposes reframing the play's discussion within a context of Black maternity and its necessary engagement with the Afro-pessimist concept of social death. Such reorientation suggests that Rachel works within the theater's very materiality in order to explore the effects of anti-Blackness on Black life. Specifically, (...) this paper argues that the play's performances of abiological Black maternity—and, particularly, the titular character's performances—fugitively evade the natal alienation of social death. Furthermore, such performances link past, present, and future stage productions as well as character representations, recreating kinship formations within Black social life to stage spatio-temporal disruptions on the equation of Blackness as social death. In this way, Rachel offers modern scholars an understanding of how older works might yet be read in light of the more recent theoretical work of radical Black feminist and Afro-pessimist scholars. (shrink)

Judith Butler's The Force of Nonviolence attempts a creative mapping of the forces of nonviolence. With leading thinkers of the world coming up with creative cartographies of violence, Butler's mapping of nonviolence doesn't stand as an exercise in altering or undermining such cartographies. While these thinkers work with what stands as a categorical understanding of violence while reconstructing it as a destructive force innate to every being in the world, Butler departs from reiterating such understandings. However, with her mapping, Butler (...) doesn't seek to problematize the orientation of such understandings either—an orientation that lies in explaining the incurable fascist leaning of humans. Rather, she releases... (shrink)

Patrick Colm Hogan announced in 2002 that "cognitivist methods, topics, and principles have come to dominate what are arguably the most intellectually exciting academic fields today". Today, what dominates those "cognitivist methods, topics, and principles" is likely to be Distributed Cognition. The term was initially addressed by Edwin Hutchin in Cognition in the Wild and currently has been developed to encompass an intertwined group of theories including embodied cognition, embedded cognition, extended cognition, and enactive cognition. The distributed views of cognition (...) generally hold that mind is "spread out over the brain, the non-neural body and an environment... (shrink)

Abstract:This article explores the representation of human‒animal interaction in D. H. Lawrence's poems "Bat" and "Man and Bat." Many influential critics interpret the poems as emphasizing the lack of connection, hospitality, and empathy between the poet and the bats, focusing on the relentless objectification of the animals and the poet's negative attitude towards them. We argue, however, that these poems can also invite different types of readings, by investigating the ways in which Lawrence employs perceptual and kinetic imagery to create (...) a certain degree of embodied, kinesthetic empathy with the bats. Using theoretical and methodological frameworks from cognitive-literary approaches to kinesthesia and human‒animal studies, we analyze Lawrence's multilayered poetic rendition of human‒animal interaction, to understand how the poet stages the tension between the symbolic/cultural connotations associated with bats and humans' perception of their embodied, affective, and kinetic being. (shrink)

In Documents of Utopia: The Politics of Experimental Ethnography, Paolo Magagnoli has undertaken the complex task of linking different aesthetic contexts through a study of experimental documentary audiovisual projects, treating the work of contemporary artists such as Hito Steyerl, Joachim Koester, Tacite Dean, Matthew Buckingham, Zoe Leonard, Jean-Luc Moulène, Ilye and Emilie Kabakov, Jon Thompson and Alison Craighead, and Aniri Sala. In what follows, I wish to develop three critical arguments that I hope will illuminate the book's central claims. Magagnoli's (...) main goal is to understand how these artists' utopian vision has undergone a temporal shift that is more preoccupied with remembering the past than... (shrink)

Abstract:Nicholas Winding Refn regularly appears to offer men as his audience's main point of identification. Yet these men are predominantly transgressive characters who frequently, if not constantly, frustrate spectator-identification and consequently linger on the periphery of cinematic paradigms. In three stages, this article analyses how Refn's violent male characters affect spectatorship. First, it considers the unstable subject mechanisms for spectator-identification afforded by classical Hollywood cinema. Second, it examines Julia Kristeva's psychoanalytical theorization of the abject and outlines the relevance of her (...) concepts to Refn's narratives. Third, it conducts a close textual analysis of Bronson (2008) and Drive (2011), arguing that the disregard for symbolic order demonstrated by Refn's male protagonists and their concomitant embrace of the death drive inhibit spectator-identification. This analysis ultimately aims to demonstrate the import of Kristeva's theories to a more comprehensive understanding of the abject's complex relationship to Refn's œuvre and to spectator-identification in cinema. (shrink)

Abstract:Though we forget most of the fiction that we read, something remains. This essay asks what forms that "something" might take in readers' memories, a question that recurs in the work of the Australian writer Gerald Murnane. When a novel's plot lines and visualized incidents have faded away, there may still linger an atmosphere peculiar to it, which is evoked by its title.

The tin can rolled across the grimy tiles of the hallway. Dondog barely grazed it, with his left foot, I think, yet there it rolled. The thick cover of darkness made it impossible to know if it was a can of beer or of Coke. Empty, light, the tin cylinder followed its noisy course then stopped, no doubt because it had come up against heavier, grimier trash.The floor slanted. Like everywhere in the City, the masons who added blocks of housing (...) on top of existing ones had little regard for horizontality. They were of the mind that the cement would hold and, what's more, the walls would sink and undo any effort at getting it right. The hallway therefore had the look of a sordid and shabbily dug trench. It reeked of fish... (shrink)

Abstract:In the past twenty years, the Anthropocene debate in the humanities and social sciences has focused on two basic approaches concerning the rise and challenge of anthropogenic climate change. The former critically addresses the socio-political underbelly of the re-centering of the human species as a geological force as proposed by the natural sciences through the guiding question: Who is the Anthropos? The latter examines the ethical challenges we face in the wake of deep timespans and fragmented agencies. This article presents (...) the upshots of this ongoing debate and suggests an ontological framework of distributed identities between different conceptual horizons of humanoid formations between the 'Anthropos' (plurality as a single whole) and what I call 'anthropo(i)s' (singulars within plural wholes) to address the tension between individual responsibility (not everyone is equally guilty) and agential response-ability (humans, not tortoises, caused climate change). (shrink)

L’inhabitable—the uninhabitable—was the bass note sounding through all of the work of Georges Perec, less a category than what categories failed to insure against: the depersonalizing, devitalizing, dark matter of modern histories and geographies, as scandalous as it was ubiquitous. At the end of Espèces d’espaces, Perec would parse “the uninhabitable” into a litany of alienating spaces produced by the very processes of industrial advancement and urban growth:L’inhabitable: la mer dépotoir, les côtes hérissées de fils de fer barbelés, la terre (...) pelée, la terre charnier, les monceaux de carcasses, les fleuves bourbiers, les villes nauséabondes […]L’inhabitable: l’étriqué... (shrink)

One of the indelible images of Manhattan in late March 2020 was the archive of horror accreting daily on my neighbor’s doormat. Above the fold, the New York Times reported on so many thousand lives lost one day, so many million jobs lost the next. No one who was in New York City in spring 2020 will forget the ambulances wailing nearly nonstop—an awful, inescapable sound that could shatter any numbed state of abstraction in relation to the daily numbers.Yet, after (...) the sheer terror of the first weeks, it became clear that the true horror recorded in the Times lay along the fold: that is, in the stark divide between those most at risk, as reported above the fold, and those able to shelter at home, whose needs were... (shrink)