A Rousseau by any other name
Flatley had us read Rousseau in order to Derrida on Rousseau and Terada on Derrida on Rousseau. By far, the most enjoyable of the three for me was Rousseau. For one thing, although I’ve made my peace with Derrida and even, you know, admitted his influence on my scholastic interestt, he’s still not funny. Or, rather, he is, in that French way, which just means he’s not funny. Sorry to any Froggies out there reading this. Anyway, we saved your asses in double-ya-double-ya-TWO, so quityerbitchin’.
But Rousseau amuses me for two reasons:
- He writes things that are funny.
- The charm of antique scholarship.
Some samples of the first reason:
- After two lengthy (and for me incomprehensible) paragraphs about accents and grammarians and some paradox or other: "I cannot imagine what might be said in response to this." I think R might be advising a certain president I know. . .
- "In order to make a language cold and monotonous in no time, one only has to establish academies among the people that speaks it."
- Before starting two long chapters on the formation of languages: "I amentering upon a long digression on a subject so hackneyed it is trivial."
- "The extent to which man in naturally lazy is inconceivable. One would say that he lives only in order to sleep, to vegetate, to remain immobile; he can scarcely resolve to devote the motions necessary to prevent himself from dying of hunger."
- "Fanaticism always appears ridiculous to us, because among us it has no voice to make itself heard. Even our fanatics are not true fanatics, there are merely knaves or fools."
And of the second, a general comment: I wish I could write like Rousseau. Obviously, there are writers to whom his work is a reply, but much of the "Essay on the Origin of Languages" sort seems like bullshit, as though Rousseau decided to come up with crazy stories about how language could have had its origins. Compared to today’s research work, when we’re asked to have read some undefined number of sources for our own work to count as credible, the charm of Rousseau’s work lies for me in the air of improvisation. I’m not claiming he didn’t do research, but the demands of his era didn’t require him to cite authors and page numbers every time he rips someone’s ideas off wholesale. While I’m certainly not advocating plagiarism or anything, there’s something to be gained from thinking of writing research as an improvisation, as jamming on the ideas you’re interested.
Research as finding the groove, writing as the riff.
More metaphor. . .
Ulmer’s dissertation and monograph are on Rousseau. His favorite anecdote is that - about 1970 or so - he discovered Derrida by accident. He picked up a book that appeared to be about Rousseau at a bookstore. It was hardly about Rousseau, but did have a discussion on Rousseau in it. That book, of course, was Of Grammatology.
Comment by jeff — 31 March, 2007 @ 11:42 am