Matt Chandler, a pastor I used to love to listen to when I
loved Jesus, said once (and once was enough to sear it into my memory): “I want
to chase down all the voices in my head to find out which ones are liars.”
Psychoanalysis. The “chasing down” of these voices is a deep, penetrative,
intellectual activity that asks much of minds and bodies, bodies and minds. Who’s
willing to give enough time and effort? Who’s capable of it? How do we
recognize a person who has chased down all the voices in her head to find out
which ones are liars?
I study text. I always like to say “I study language,” because
since starting this PhD program, I feel like that’s what I’ve done. I’ve been
so enamored with and captivated by the ideas I’ve learned that sometimes, I sit
in front of my computer for hour on end studying Netflix’s generous offerings,
offering them my time in exchange for some culture to analyze. That’s cut it in
the past, when, when my mind wasn’t engrossed in a book, I had no one to small
talk with (or close to no one, there were phone friends), so the TV became my
go-to “small talk.” A way for me to monitor the voices in my head as they come
forward to respond to the program I’m watching. A way for me to learn what it
is that I’m thinking as I think about what I’m thinking about what I’m thinking
about. I somehow need to channel some of that energy into a comprehensive final
proposal that explains what I want to study and why I want to study it.
Basically, my field list—the list which creates my primary
canon—is all nineteenth-century American Literature. I feel that it’s
underdeveloped at this point because I haven’t yet read any of the literary or
historical criticism about the literature of the time to know exactly what it
is I need to read. I’m thinking of adding some newspapers, magazines, and other
periodical literature of the time to the list that I could explore. Asking LDL:
Louisville Courier and all the periodical pubs listed near the back of the
Bennett C19 poetry anthology. Late C19/C20 critic Fred Lewis Pattee.
The list, as is, is my attempt to do two things: to sample
those texts which were popular during the nineteenth century in America as well
as those which were written during that period but that which earned a
following much later, and to begin to narrow my focus to texts in the mode of
life writing composed just before, during, and after the Civil War and through
the Reconstruction era. I want to study diaries, journals, correspondences, and
periodical literature within their cultural context and with an eye toward
close reading them, via psychoanalytic trauma theory (and here’s where my
driving thesis falls flat) to, like, you know, see what they say to me. I guess
almost everyone is where I am: they have a great idea what they want to read,
but unless they’re extremely deductive, they have no idea what they all say
when added up. I guess there’s a way they could have been reading all their
primary stuff throughout the last 2 years and are now theoretically informed
enough to make a pretty good guess what they’re going to find there…
I digress… so I can weigh myself against others. See what
writing teaches us?
I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I’m reading
them to find out what they don’t say. Abraham and Torok’s cryptonomy theory
really sets this into motion: they say that there are phantom words which
signal to the close reader/analyst the stranger lurking within the Other. The
phantom inside the Other that even the Other doesn’t know is there. I’m not
claiming to know how to do that exactly, so I will reread (or in most cases,
rereread and rerereread) Freud and many who has followed him to see how they
conduct the business of reading each other through and into the texts they
read. I’ll hope to continue studying the process of how readers are reading one
another and the situations around them, intuitively understanding that it is
through interacting within this dynamic web of voices that my voices will begin
to “make sense.” That’s when I’ll be
able to write a dissertation proposal. All this in between is learning to write
that diss prop. Srsly.
I also include several texts which I believe will help me
situate myself as a twenty-first century reader reading nineteenth-century
texts (and bodies) through a primarily twentieth-century lens. The anachrony of
simply reading that sentence induces vertigo.
Because much of the popular life writing of the time was
written by African American slaves or former slaves, both lists take an active interests
in writings from and about both white and black authors without delineating
them as such (except in this preface, and then merely to explain what others
might call an oversight if I were to leave it out). They were, at that time,
seen very differently, and perhaps are still segregated, even if only by one of
those voices inside my head. But for my purposes, I want to try, as much as is
possible, to read them all as humans writing trauma. Gendered, raced, and
classed issues will be situated against trauma rather than against the
traditional hierarchies imposed upon them by the era and by so many scholars
since then. Slavery was traumatic; still is. But comparing the trauma of
slavery to the trauma of restrictive gender controls on a queer person or on
the atrocities of war experienced by nurses in Civil War hospitals is like
comparing apples to cars. To say one is “worse” than another legitimizes one as
justifiably and recognizably traumatic while the other is relegated to
less-than. Each are traumatic in their own right, and to the persons
experiencing them and reliving them on paper, on a scale from one to ten, were
we to ask our witnesses, subjectively they’d report that their trauma was
10/10. Do I need to justify why I’m not necessarily studying “racial trauma” or
“queer trauma” or “gender trauma,” or can it suffice to say that many different
traumata work in the same way and can therefore be “grouped” for the sake of
study under the ideology of trauma rather than the triumvirate
race/class/gender ideology critique system?
There are several texts on my list that are simply dead
white male canonical, texts I still haven’t studied from Poe, Melville,
Thoreau, Emerson, Whitman, and Alcott that anyone calling themselves an expert
in C19 should have under their belt. Ditto with some from the secondary text
list, such as the now-classic Imagined
Communities by Anderson Benedict, Revolution
and the Word by Cathy Davidson, and Sensational
Designs by Jane Tompkins, to name a few. Texts I’ve heard quoted and
name-dropped in almost every grad lit course I’ve ever taken. You can’t call
yourself a serious student of American literature if you haven’t read The Puritan Origins of the American Self,
for instance.
Trauma theory is much the same: I have several canonical
works that any serious student in trauma theory should have read. I’m reading
Freud, LaPlanche, Abraham and Torok, and Deleuze psychoanalytically as a basis
for trauma theory. Then reading broadly in trauma theory with the likes of
Caruth, LaCapra, Felman, Laub. I stretch the category of “trauma theory” a bit
by including within it such authors as Foucault, Barthes, and perhaps Sontag.
It feels a bit deficient to me still because it doesn’t yet have any C18 and
C19 philosophers that I could read as both primary and secondary text to fill
out my knowledge of how the C19 thinkers were thinking. I don’t know a lot
about who they might have been influenced by except for maybe German
metaphysics, Kant, Hegel. So I’m completely deficient there. I’ll ask Rachman,
Watts, and Arch asap.
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