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| Robin Petterd, Songs of Chaos, 1997, digital image1 |
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There are strands in this essay: readers; (inter)texts;
the child; text-as-room or cell; prisoners; textual & intertextual fields;
enmeshments...
Readers have always known how to thread together various
strands of text and image; thought and dreamscape; imagination and intertextual
remembrance. Assembling splinters, fragments, pieces, snippets of cultural artefact:
quoting from the world in which we live and out of which today has evolved:
ALL this is greatly facilitated by computer software, by learning not only to
write, or to paint, but to "author". In the 1990s there has been a great degree
of freedom on the web, but as both hard and software advances are made, the
next decade will open up new arenas to those wishing to push the boundaries
of language.
New technologies will explode the possibilities of authoring.
Already the various processes of reading are beginning to dissolve into assembling,
editing, filtering, interrogating, desiring, requiring more or less of
texts ... the reader-as-author arrives with myriad indenti-kits.
Hélène Cixous proposes that:
The text, then, writes us,
even as we assemble, distill, embroider an (inter)textual entity from the array
of signifiers ever confronting the immense expanse, both inside and outside
our various sensations of self.
The copyright laws that surround ownership of texts
continue to be a legal dilemma for those involved in the production of material
intertextual works, then, but they cannot really affect the virtual texts
created by reader/viewers. Roland Barthes proposes that
texts are re-written on readers during the reading process. He writes,
Readers' minds will vary in their abilities to interact with
texts, and in their abilities to remember texts. These factors will necessarily
affect the degree of intertextual blurring that will
take place as readers create virtual texts. Virtual
intertextual readings created during any process of reading may differ vastly
from the material texts
Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari postulate that,
'[a] book is an assemblage ... [l]iterature is an assemblage ... A rhizome [rhizomic
text] has no beginning or end; it is always in the middle, between things'
(4, 25). Deleuze and Guattari want metaphors for writing that allow written
works to be described as maps, not tracings:
Intertextualities cannot be traced. They cannot even be
mapped for long, as they are always in states of process, flux and motion. Video
or computer graphics might represent/metaphorise these (inter)textual processes
far more effectively than the comparatively limited medium of black words on
paper. Undoubtedly multi-media electronic journal articles will greatly facilitate
discussions about intertextuality, especially explorations of readerly intertextual
productions that result from reading/viewing intertextually and inter-imagically
across textual media.
Accompanying every debate about intertextuality, however,
even those produced in multi-media formats, there will always be a vast repository
of other intertextualities over which assemblers of material (inter)texts have
no control: the unknown myriad virtual-intertextual-collages stored within every
reader. Every reader's various notions of identity (and the ways in which those
entities are evolving alongside the 'new technology (inter)textual revolution')
will inevitably affect the assemblage of her/his intertextual realities.
They are assembled here, outside your sensation of self, of identity, but how
quickly they merge, become familiar, begin to entwine, to infect your own authoring
practices. Various ways through this essay/web-site are made available: more
linear or paths that are off-beat ...
Each (word of) sentence of a text has survived the shipwreck
of two hundred pages. The process of writing is to circulate, to caress, to
paint all the phenomena before they are assembled, crystallized in a word.
... [A]t times what writing does well is this meticulous work that one does
not have the time to do, one does not take the time to do when one is not
writing. Such that in the end we will not have lived these innumerable intimate
events that constitute us because we will
not have recognized them. In a book [or on a screen],
sometimes, all of a sudden, we see the portrait of a palpitation pass, the
portrait of an instant of which we ourselves have been the lead character,
without being able to detain it. This is what the ... [text] gives: this (re)cognition
that had escaped us. (rootprints 18-19)
a text is ... a multi-dimensional space in which
a variety of writing, none of them original, blend and clash.
The text is a tissue of quotations drawn from the innumerable centres of culture
... The reader is the space on which all the quotations that make up a writing
are inscribed without any of them being lost; a text's unity lies not in its
origin but in its destination. Yet this destination cannot any longer be personal:
the reader is without history, biography, psychology; ... [s/he]
is simply that someone who holds together in a single field all the traces
by which the written text is constituted (156-57 [emphasis added]).
Language could not be understood if readers
did not inter-relate phrases read with other phrases read, and those intertextualities
with the myriad (inter)texts that are apprehended throughout readers' lives.
It would be almost impossible for any reader, however, except those with flawless
memories (the mythical 'ideal reader' who exists only in theoretical texts),
to hold together every single thing that constitutes a material text, 'all the
traces.'
from
which they derive. A text's unity cannot be guaranteed when it arrives at its
destination. A reader is a vast repository of virtual intertextual readings
with which any material text, and any of its traces, may intertext at any time
after its inscription upon the space of any reader, thus mutating even
at the moment of being read, and continuing to do so thereafter.
[t]he
map
is open and connectable in all of its dimensions; it is detachable, reversible,
susceptible to constant modification. It can be torn, reversed, adapted
to any kind of mounting, reworked by an individual, group or social formation.
It can be drawn on a wall, conceived of as a work of art, constructed
as a political action or as a meditation ... A map has multiple entryways,
as opposed to the tracing, which always comes 'back to the same.' The map
has to do with performance, whereas the tracing always involves an alleged
'competence' (12-13).
Maps are well-suited to describing the intertextualities
between written text and written text; image and image; and image and written
text; and the relationships of all those artificially-produced material signifiers
with the material world that is not 'artificially' produced; as all these (inter)texts
are perceived, in varying ways, by different reader-viewers.5.
Diane Caney, 1998
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