On Mechanisms
It’s been a while since Matthew Kirschenbaum’s book (Mechanisms: New Media and the Forensic Imagination, MIT Press, 2008) appeared and different responses have been generated meantime. I’ve finished reading it recently with the kind of feeling one has when (s)he finds a confirmation of something that up to that point presented itself only, more or less, as an intuition. In other words, something ‘often thought but never so well expressed’. Therefore, I felt compelled to write a line or two about it, if only to underline a few points it makes which seem to me extremely well demonstrated.
I do not wish to dwell too much on the presentation of the concepts proposed here, but I prefer to situate this research, in its own terms, in reference to what has been accomplished so far in matters of theoretical perspectives on digital literature.
With this study the theory of digital art in general and of e-literature in particular takes one step further. I would use the author’s reference to Kenneth Thibodeau’s tripartite model for digital objects as a means of classifying the theoretical debates which have accompanied the development of this branch of literature. The first – in a historical order and also most largely spread – is a theoretical perspective which favors the conceptual aspect of the digital object, its phenomenological manifestation on the screen. It is this particular orientation – which is subject to ‘screen essentialism’ (Nick Montfort) or, largely speaking, to ‘medial ideology’ (a term coined by Kirschenbaum in analogy with Jerome McGann’s ‘Romantic ideology’) – that forms the object of a thoroughly convincing criticism. Matthew Kirschenbaum is very good at unveiling the rhetorical nature of the theoretical language of this orientation, exposing the ideology lying behind mere prepositional tropes.
The second and one-level deeper into the structure of the digital product is the critical theory which tries to formalize what lies beyond the screen and to connect it with the surface phenomena. The examples invoked here are E. Aarseth and L. Manovich. However, this second generation theoreticians still work at a symbolic level, or deal with what Kirschenbaum calls ‘formal materiality’, namely data interpreted by software. What constitutes his own original contribution and may be considered a real conceptual ground-break is what he describes as ‘forensic materiality’ corresponding to the physical nature of the object. In his own words – a grammatology of inscription on a magnetic medium. It is true that references to what lies beyond the screen and to the material aspects of the digital object have been numerous, but none so systematic and moving in such an organized manner from the icons on the screen deep into the materiality of the hard drive. Most of the perspectives aware of the pitfalls of ‘screen essentialism’ have tended to focus on the code, which, as Kirschenbaum shows, is not the ultimate frontier. To prove his point, and in this he succeeds very well, the author returns to the era roughly covered by the interval 1980-1992, which serves to measure the conceptual distance generated by the mere difference in technologies. As he puts it ‘greater storage capacity will dematerialize the media as their finite physical boundaries represent no longer a concern’ (p. 34).
The dematerialization is not only a digital media problem. It is also a widely unacknowledged aspect of print literature. However, it is the area of various book studies that informs Kirschenbaum’s attempt to define the notion of ‘electronic textuality’. This is the second point when the author proves that his perspective is unbiased by any essentialist claims. He does not feel the need to oppose the digital realm to the printed one. On the one hand because ‘the conditions governing electronic textuality are formal conditions – artificial arrays of possibility put into play by particular software systems’ (p. 57). In other words, notions such as ‘ephemerality’, ‘fungibility’ or ‘fluidity’ are not absolute characteristics of the digital text, but the results of the way in which the text was designed to function by different programs, which can make it stable or unstable according to specific needs. On the other hand, because the differences stand out by themselves as the description of ‘electronic textuality’ unfolds. The three extensive analyses proposed as model examples serve to configure a particular type of textuality, which he justly calls ‘thick textuality’ – combining screen appearance with machine inscription.
One question that might be addressed here concerns the contribution of the analysis of the ‘forensic materiality’ to the overall meaning. After all, no matter how much one may criticize the focus on the screen output, it is for this level that the digital product is built as a rule. Reading the other levels is a work for the specialist. The answers vary according to each text. In the case of Mystery House the supplementary information offers details about the ‘reading’ habits of the owner of that particular disk. This is similar to the marginal notes that readers usually leave on the printed books, which represent an important source of information for the literary studies focused on reading practices. Concerning Michael Joyce’s Afternoon, on the other hand, the question of materiality (including, apart from magnetic inscription, every possible document connected with its ‘writing’ – be it a coffee stained scrap paper) becomes more stringent as it serves to differentiate versions and editions of the same text and this results in significantly different reading paths in the text. This is not far from what in print literary studies is called genetic reading. As for the last extensively analyzed example – W. Gibson’s Agrippa – its present-day material permanence is in complete contrast with its conceptual design and with the way in which it was supposed to be interacted with.
After reading Mechanisms, I can make a guess as to what partly prompted Johanna Drucker to make the assertion that generated a lot of debate concerning the existence of valuable examples of electronic literature. After all, the three works which the author focuses upon correspond to the ‘beginnings’ of e-literature. The first is admittedly a very simple game that even its contemporaries would not have given a second try. Afternoon may be placed at the other end of the scale, but I would say that its ‘literary value’ is mostly due to its closeness to traditional literary texts, to the fact that it is, as it calls itself ‘a story’, which is all the more obvious when contrasted with present-day e-literature. As for the last one, Agrippa, it might be disputable if it is an e-text proper, considering the fact that its simple presence on the internet does not make it e-literature (especially since was not created for this medium). A poem placed on the internet is not an e-poem, it is obviously a poem on the internet. On the other hand, I don’t think the aesthetic value of these works was the primary criterion which guided the author’s selection. His research addresses questions of reading practices, preservation and editing processes. This is the third significant contribution of this study, because one cannot think of editing and preserving electronic works (or preserving works electronically) without taking into full consideration their ‘materiality’ in the most literal sense.
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5 Responses to “On Mechanisms”.
Thank you, Eliza, for this generous and careful review. You’ve emphasized exactly what I hoped the contributions of the book would be.
One point: Agrippa, while not originally intended for distribution on the internet (though even this is somewhat debatable) *is* a born-digital work, or “e-poem.” Gibson, in fact, claims that he never produced a hard copy, but more importantly the original software interface which ran on the poem on the diskette in the collector’s edition was an important and innovative piece of code art, designed to execute the text only once and then irreversibly encrypt it. We’ve recently been able to produce an emulation of this original environment, which is available on the Agrippa Files.
Best, Matt
Thanks for the feedback. Concerning Agrippa, what I had in mind, although I did not make that very clear, was the fact that the ‘hacking’ of the text appears to have resulted in overshadowing the work’s conceptual level. The salvage operation seems to have given precedence to the text, which is indeed interesting in itself, over the way in which it was supposed to function (and therefore over its ‘theoretical statement’). Also, the present-day permanence of the text on the author’s site does not communicate much about its initial design; in fact, it contradicts it. But it is true that the work’s succeeding metamorphoses enriched and modified this level as well and that is why it cannot be read independently of its well-documented history.
This post is an excellent concise introduction to a very important book. Your summary is elegant, but I would add that one of the great accomplishments of Mechanisms is that it renews the relevance of textual studies to literary scholarship.
Kirschenbaum’s book points us toward the potential of textual studies–e.g. bibliography (the study of books as material objects), textual criticism, genetic editing, and the history of the book–for the serious consideration of electronic literature. He opens the door and begins doing the work, but I hope Mechanisms also encourages other literary scholars interested in elit to revisit the theory and body of scholarship associated with these fields. As Kirschenbaum illustrates the theories and practices of analytical bibliography need to be radically reoriented for the electronic environment but these theories and practices provide the general framework for understanding texts as (material) products of complex social and technological processes.
It is interesting to examine chronologically the work of N. Katherine Hayles. In her early work, you see her making typically bibliographical claims (emphasizing the materiality of literature). But it isn’t until her more recent books, My Mother Was a Computer (I believe), that she seems to actually start seriously reading (or at least citing) the work of bibliographers and textual critics.
This is not a critique of Hayles or of your post (which is as excellent a summary as I’ve seen), rather it reflects the (institutional?) divide between those working at the forefront of contemporary issues in literary studies (the digital, the post-human, elit, etc.) and the dusty and seemingly out-of-fashion realm of textual studies. Of course textual studies is coming back in fashion, thanks in part to Kirschenbaum, but mostly because it is needed to help us understand texts in the digital realm.
What I would add is that the textual studies concerned with the materiality of the book may provide useful insights not only for researches in the field of electronic textuality, but also for the ‘aged’ literary theory, which seems to be prone to a type of ‘medial ideology’ similar to the one described in Mechanisms in the case of digital texts, despite the existence of some noticeable contributions which highlight the importance of the notion of materiality in the case of print texts as well.
I had a look at MIT’s description of your book at http://mitpress.mit.edu/catalog/item/default.asp?ttype=2&tid=11336 and read Eliza’s review, Matthew. I see that at the above URL one may also read 50 pages from the book, which I’ve just finished doing.
Here’s something I posted some time ago to netpoetic concerning ’spiritual materialism’: http://netpoetic.com/2009/07/spiritual-materialism . This relates to your concern in Mechanisms with materiality. I expanded a bit on the notion at http://netpoetic.com/2009/07/re-spiritual-materialism/
I’ll have to get your book. It sounds interesting. I think that showing how materialistic concerns do not exclude the deepest concerns of the literary imagination is very useful these days. Particularly concerning writing or art in which materiality is at issue.
But, more generally, it seems that several key issues in our world today key on concerns relating to materiality. Such as who and what we are. For instance, many people feel that the idea that we are machines reduces us and denies our humanity, our spirituality, what makes us human. However, just as an understanding of Darwin’s ideas opens up whole vistas of our being and history and future, so too does the idea that we are machines, properly understood, open up whole vistas without reducing or denying our humanity.
And understanding both Darwin’s ideas and the idea that we are machines involves looking at the relation between our materiality and our past, present, and futures in the world. Both involve a kind of materialism that has a long history in science and is quite different from very limited notions of materialism that refer to consumeristic zeal and a denial of the importance of things like spirituality.
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