01 Aug 2005
An essay. Not really intended for HSC consumption/usage. Mostly just me thinking about how certain things could be argued and paying out post-modernism’s erroneous nature… you can call that statement what you will, so long as you take the time to read the following. 2260 words, or thereabouts.
Michael Ondaatje’s novel, In the Skin of a Lion, can be said to have textual integrity as a result of the way in which the composer has shaped this novel, through a variety of techniques employed. Textual integrity itself can be said to embody a timelessness in literature: that is, ‘good’ literature is shaped by its textual integrity, reflected in the ways in which values within a text are presented, as well as the universality of themes discussed.
‘Setting’ exists in three spheres that are often seen to intersect, these spheres being Location, Time, and Critical Influence. And, further to this, any text that recreates the past – especially when postmodernism is an accepted influence – involves two intersecting fields of time: The author’s own, and that in which they delineate the events of their work.
Construction of a work that can be said to have ‘textual integrity’ and hence be considered a model of ‘good’ literature, or literature of timeless value, is therefore complicated when a post-modern style is employed that attempts to construct a text adequately flexible to accommodate the creation of new meaning in a way that accurately reflects the values of a period now elapsed.
Ondaatje’s novel, In the Skin of a Lion, is one such text: it creates layered meaning, employing a form true to the post-modern ideal – that is, rejection of a mandate that meaning must be created through textual delineation, as meaning in a post-modernist form can be constructed in any number of ways, though the nature of this meaning is malleable – whilst depicting events that preceded the advent of such an ideology.
Inherently, this poses challenges: However, used effectively, juxtaposition of historical content and critical perspective of this period against contemporary influences in the sphere of critical theory can yield in literature a quality that is best described as timeless – it creates an integrity that spans ideologies and events, and transforms the narrative into an overarching vessel that may function as a container for any number of (even opposing) ideologies and social paradigms, simultaneously.
This, of course, is the defeat of intent in a work. Ondaatje cannot be said to have achieved anything, as he set out to achieve nothing and everything when his work first assumed a post-modern form. Indeed, post-modernism is inherently an abstraction, incapable of embodying any particular message. In embracing its doctrines, authors surrender wholly their work’s value to the whims of the responder: but Ondaatje cannot be said to have wholly embraced this ideal.
Certainly, the structure of his work is post-modern. Irrefutably, the syntax utilised for denoting structural elements in this work could be described thus, for no other reason than it is a rejection of conventional form and syntax utilised in narrative works: it is eclectic, “loose†in nature. Ondaatje writes of the “extreme looseness of the structure of all objectsâ€, and, on the surface at least, his narrative reflects this ideology. Yet, his tribute to post-modernism is confined to the superficial. Post-modernism is Ondaatje’s link to the contemporary world, important in presenting an image of timelessness. There is, perhaps, a truth in his assertion that all objects have a looseness of structure – but, in accordance with the post-modern paradigm, this truth is open to challenge. And, in beautiful irony, Ondaatje’s own work is the vessel from which an attack on this truth may be instigated.
Ondaatje’s novel begins with a chapter entitled “Little seedsâ€, supposedly an allusion to the seeds of explosives that his father must painstakingly remove from his clothes… and the coining of a metaphor, a persisting motif, for the gradual development of the character of Patrick throughout the text until he dons “the Skin of a Lion†and – in a fitting conclusion to such a metaphor – ‘explodes’, or attempts to explode, the waterworks. These little seeds are the first of many aspects of the text to defy post-modernism and this ideology of “extreme looseness of structureâ€. The language used is rich in metaphor, certainly: and, inherent in metaphor is the possibility of deriving multiple interpretations. However, before the beginning of Book One even, Ondaatje speaks of “bring[ing] together various corners of the story†– and this stands not alone, but ties itself to a question with an invisible imperative: “Do you see?†This could, perhaps, be read as Patrick’s enquiry: “Do you see my story?†“Do you seeâ€, it seems, connotes something that is to be seen, proposes that there is a structure to things, and suggests that this structure is resolved at some point. All of this, of course, defies the post-modern ideal of looseness. Certainly there is an element of ‘looseness’ to this narrative – but it is still a narrative. There is a story behind it, and, whilst there can be more than one interpretation, there remains a dominant message that Ondaatje has constructed and resolved with the bringing together of “little seeds†to form a cohesive narrative, and this cohesion, it seems, is against the post-modern ideal of “loosenessâ€.
The post-modern aspects of this work, then, are utilised only fleetingly in order to develop an overarching structure – more accurately a superstructure – in which various other structures of critical theory are contained. This in itself creates in the work a timelessness or transient nature, though this timelessness does not come at the expense of a formulated narrative: Ondaatje’s work has structure, and definite plot, with an undeniable progression and resolution. Yet, this plot with all its progression and resolution is open to a variety of different readings and interpretations based upon the ideology of the responder, in accordance with post-modern doctrine.
However, the scope of such variation is restricted to the confines constructed by Ondaatje. His text is crafted with particular influences in mind, namely, the critical influences that influenced much academic thought of the early twentieth century. Consequently, it is possible to extract with ease Marxist and Feminist readings of this text, due to the focus of his narrative. Ondaatje depicts characters holistically, characters that defy stereotyping both within the text’s setting (chiefly 1920’s Toronto), and Ondaatje’s own (1988, Toronto); he also focuses on minority groups, such as migrant communities. These groups appear to be disillusioned, disenfranchised with the barriers that exist between them and mainstream society, but much of this is in the presentation.
The content of In the Skin of a Lion lends itself to feminist or post-colonial readings – though post-colonial literary theory was not to emerge as a recognised force until the mid- to late-1970’s (Said’s 1978 work Orientalism provides some basis for these dates) – whilst the style and emphasis of this content (in an aesthetic sense) enables a Marxist reading with themes of oppression, class conflict and “official†versus “unofficial†histories prevalent throughout the work. Completing the ‘setting’ is the structure of the work: namely, a structure that is post-modern in nature, and encompasses all other aspects of the work.
Textual integrity is constructed carefully through embracing a range of intellectual and critical analyses, and thus allowing the work to be viewed from a variety of perspectives (Marxism, Feminism) in a variety of cultures (Post-colonialism). These ‘perspectives’ (a simplified aspect of critical theory as a whole) are accepted or legitimised by the aspects of this text that support such theories or readings. In this way, the text can be said to have textual integrity, as it becomes universally applicable in the sense that it is no longer bound to a specific time, or place. For example, a Marxist critic can draw a ‘truth’ considered in the Marxist framework of thought to be undeniable and absolute in the human experience – namely, that there exists a system of oppression in societies that advocate (or, do not opposed) “bare-knuckled capitalism†such as that exhibited by Ambrose Small in In the Skin of a Lion.
Post-modernism, therefore, can be seen to encompass all aspects of the text, and provide for their existence – much as Ondaatje himself provides for their existence through crafting the work. Other aspects of the text are transient and non-requisite: the enabling force in all of this is the post-modern structure encompassing all other theories and ideologies in a neutral or even ambivalent form. Post-modernism is purely contemporary, an ideology that has emerged only in the late twentieth century – unlike those contained within it in this text. Whilst there is a conflict of interest between the ideal of truth being [absolutely] relative in post-modern thought and notions of ‘truth’ as presented in other critical theories, such incongruities are largely disregarded in Ondaatje’s construction of In the Skin of a Lion.
It is, however, important to consider the reasons for which Ondaatje has constructed his text thus. Certainly, the presentation of ideologies inexorably bound to theories dominant in popular and academic thought of another time is inevitable in a piece of good literature when such a work is set as In the Skin of a Lion is. This may be accepted to be self-evident, and is of little consequence aside from its marginal contribution to the preservation (or creation) of textual integrity. Of greater importance is the effect of such presentation [of alternate ideologies] on the timelessness of a work, its flexibility, and, consequently, its potential value in any other ‘setting’ or context (encompassing time, place, and critical thinking).
The rift between the ‘setting’ of In the Skin of a Lion and that of its composer is the better part of a century characterised by rapid change in ideology in response to globalisation, the widespread adoption of communication technologies, and popular disillusionment in response to conflicts that have resulted in more people being killed in that century than in any other period in history – popular disillusionment that manifested itself in widely in the decade preceding the ‘setting’ in which Ondaatje writes through the anti-war movement of the time.
This disillusionment manifests itself in post-modern thought and in a subsequent popular revival of relativism. This is, therefore, reflected in the form of Ondaatje’s work – a form based on post-modernism’s rejection of conventional structure. There is even an anarchistic element to the structure in its alternation between conventional and post-modern styles, with this demarcation clearly apparent.
Such anarchy is similarly reflected in the content of the work, depicted through the influence of Alice on Patrick, culminating in both her death and his own anarchist aspirations (that are ultimately realised not through action but through assuming “the skin of a lionâ€): and, before them, the death of Cato. It appears to be the result of catalysts in succession—Cato on Alice, Alice on Patrick, Patrick who is reached through Clara. This, once again, denies the “extreme looseness of the structure of things†in that there is a clear relationship that exists, that can be expressed, and even understood. Post-modernism is indifferent to anarchy, whilst anarchy [ironically] sets about destroying the structure of things, and yet the evolution of such an ideology in In the Skin of a Lion rejects the superstructure in which it is ‘contained’.
Anarchy, of course, stems from alternate ideologies that provide a reason for the terrorist actions. Behind anarchism is an ultimate goal other than simply the destruction of structure and the creation of an “extreme looseness†– there is always a driving ideology that exists behind it. Anarchism functions with an intent to reform, to later reconstruct a new structure that will empower the disenfranchised and those who are disillusioned with the present order of things. This is so in the text, with Marxism being the driving force behind such anarchism: there is always an intent to overthrow the imperialist ruling classes and give a voice to those who are without one. Marxism is recognised as being a prevalent influence not of the author’s setting, but rather of the period in which the text is set – and this ideology is recognised with a close link to that of voice and the ‘immigrant experience’ – notably, linked closely to post-colonialism and the breaking away from preconceptions of foreign states.
This idea of ‘voice’ in a place with an established language and culture (primarily western) is a subject with far-reaching links not simply to the Marxist construct of oppression by an imperialistic society and an ever-expanding bourgeoisie class, but also to the far more contemporary emergence of post-colonial literary theory. Thus, the idea of a misrepresented and voiceless class formulated from immigrants in a post-colonial framework is challenged, just as Marxism was seen to challenge the status quo of the 1920’s as presented in the text. Ondaatje uses this convergence of chronologically distant ideologies to exhibit a textual integrity through demonstrating the timeless nature of literature in terms of the themes explored.
The responder witnesses a paradigm that transcends the better part of a century (or more, if the time between the advent of Marxist thought and the emergence of post-colonial literary theory is considered) to present an ideology that remains congruent irrespective of setting – ironically, demonstrated through the juxtaposition of setting to exhibit its irrelevance.
In this way, Ondaatje binds chronologically distant elements together, encapsulating a period of time and establishing ‘truth’ that prevails across a series of ideologies – textual integrity is established through the development of such timelessness in terms of the concepts presented, and this is bound together by aspects of critical theory combined under the auspices of post-modernism.
30 Jul 2005
It appears Virgin Blue think they’re Nike. No-one else seems to have been able to get away with running advertisements consisting only of a company logo and no “message”.
The advertisement above displays the Virgin Blue logo centered on a plain red background. And that’s all.
They don’t have a brand strong enough to can get away with that! Nike’s ubiquitous tick is one thing — ranked with McDonalds and Coca-cola as the most recognisable brands in the world — but Virgin appear to have forgotten that, at least in the region they’re running these ads, they are only a domestic airline, still with a minority share, and without even having released a frequent flyer plan yet — though that’s apparently coming later this year (the story that announced that was written/funded courtesy of Virgin Blue and Boeing flying a journalist to the conference in Seattle, by the way, so take it with a grain of salt).
Even if we look at Qantas, and their “image” campaigns, there has been nothing so presumptuous as this. They’ve done some fairly ‘abstract’ campaign work, with their (excellent) “Spirit of Australia” commercials, but that’s always achieved a purpose, or conveyed some sort of message about their offering… whereas Virgin’s purpose here seems utterly futile.
In fact, the only thing this ad has going for it is that it makes people like me generate noise, and it costs them less to run it during Adshel’s offpeak season (January–September) than at other times.
28 Jul 2005
The ATO‘s e-tax application is a pretty horrible beast, and a perfect example of something that really should be a web application — but it works on Wine near-perfectly. Sort of.
I just filled out my 2005 tax return on Linux, before getting to the final step and discovering it wouldn’t print nor submit electronically (because, apparently, they can’t code and are dependent on Internet Explorer as a connectivity layer — and yet they test for security before allowing you to download the program! Hah!)… but it would save just fine, so I copied my tax file across the network to a Windows computer (resenting all the while having to leave my chair, because I really shouldn’t have had to even leave my browser — In this instance Firefox — if they’d done this properly) and imported, printed, and submitted it electronically without any significant problems.
Note that you can’t import a file from anywhere — you need to actually copy the file into the e-tax folder itself (probably C:\etax2005) before e-tax will let you startup without creating a new file. You’ve also got to enter your TFN again (presumably as a meagre form of security) to get it to open the file.
It annoys me that they don’t even support Mac users natively, instead saying that it will function, if “suitable Windows Emulator software” is installed. That’s so presumptuous I was tempted to fill in the section asking for costs incurred in filing the tax invoice, listing three licences for Windows XP purchased earlier this year (not really, but it’d be a nice revenge :)).
Okay, rant over.
