Tuesday, August 18, 2009

E436 Final Paper- A Pynchonian Manifesto

Written By Katherine Tattersfield The Critical Crying of Lot 49




Literary scholars often consider Thomas Pynchon’s unique novella, The Crying of Lot 49, meta-literature; that is, literature about literature. In that sense, his novella epitomizes postmodernism, yet viewing the novella from a singular theoretical lens underestimates its sheer complexity. Indeed, such a literary cacophony cries out for interpretation via multiple critical theoretical approaches. The following essay will explore Pynchon’s masterpiece primarily through Marxism, though a variety of alternative perspectives such as those of Psychoanalysis and Postmodernism (sprinkled with Formalism) will provide further insight when applicable.



Underlying Marxist themes are especially evident in the deceased—but no less central character—Pierce Inverarity. In the beginning, the reader learns that Pierce is a, “[…] California real estate mogul […]” of considerable wealth who names Oedipa Maas, his former girlfriend, executor of his vast estate (Pynchon 1). Pierce’s title of real estate mogul holds special significance from a Marxist standpoint and immediately notifies the reader that Pierce represents the bourgeoisie (among other things.) According to Marx, “[…] Modern bourgeois private property is the final and most complete expression of the system of producing and appropriating products, that is based on class antagonisms, on the exploitation of the many by the few”(21). Thus Pierce’s status as an owner of enormous amounts of physical property lends him economic as well as social power. As the novel progresses, the reader learns that Pierce’s successful commercial real estate empire allows him exercise influence over a variety of other seemingly unrelated industries, such aerospace and tobacco, to name a few. This illustrates Marx’s assertion that concentrated property leads to political concentration because Pierce obviously presides over a massive monopoly, but somehow manages to avoid an anti-trust lawsuit (Marx, 12). The association between the government sponsored aerospace industry and a venture capitalist like Pierce also conveys the extent to which the military-industrial complex dictates the domestic and foreign policy agenda within 20th century America. Pierce, who does not hold political office, manages to manipulate the political process nonetheless by using his personal fortune to purchase power.



Indeed, Pierce’s character represents the prototypical American capitalist. As such, he symbolizes the American ruling class, which exerts disproportionate influence in American politics from the time of the founding up until the present day. For example, Oedipa recalls Pierce describing himself as a, “[…] Founding father […]” of a fictional Southern California town known as, “San Narciso” (Pynchon 15). The founding father phrase serves as an allusion to the mythical framers of the American Constitution. The identities and intentions of the men present at the various Constitutional conventions remain obscure, yet most Americans are under the false impression that the founders collectively have the common man’s best interest at heart. Political scientist Donald Lutz notes that the Constitution’s authors are virtually all members of the Federalist party, a party of wealthy, elite, property owners who design a government to better serve their interests (7-9). The early Federalists have much in common with their contemporaries (namely the Republican Party) in that they are a political entity that caters to the rich and powerful. Consequently, from a Marxist standpoint, the American Revolution ultimately amounts to the American bourgeoisie simply replacing their British counterparts, which hardly qualifies as progressive.

Furthermore, though the name San Narciso has obvious Psychoanalytic implications, it may also act as a parody of a fundamental component of capitalist ideology, that of rational self-interest. Capitalism presupposes the existence of enlightened agents capable of discerning what is in their self-interests. This assertion appears value-neutral, but is unquestionably value-laden as it substantiates greed and exploitation. However, the fact that this assumption functions to justify bourgeois dominance should not be dismissed as a purely accidental occurrence:
"What we can do, for the moment, is to fix two major superstructural ‘levels’: the one that can be called ‘civil society,’ that is, the ensemble of organisms called ‘private,’ that of ‘political society’ or ‘the State.’ These two levels correspond on the one hand to the function of ‘hegemony’ which the dominant group exercises throughout society and, on the other hand, to that of ‘direct domination’ or command exercised throughout the State and ‘jurisdictional’ government. The functions in question are precisely organizational and connective. The intellectuals are the dominant group’s ‘deputies’ exercising the subaltern functions of social hegemony and political government" (Gramsci 673)

According to Gramsci, an intellectual such as Adam Smith, pens his theories merely to validate the existence of bourgeois supremacy, which automatically enhances the authority of the preceding system in the mind of the body politic.



In Pynchon’s novel, hegemony can be seen in Pierce’s ownership of the entire town of San Narciso; as the town’s father, Pierce likely considers it made in his own image. At the same time, this notion becomes evident to the reader precisely because the town isn’t named after its founder. The hegemon (Pierce) needn’t overtly display his authority by naming the town after himself. Instead, his influence permeates the town subtly. For instance, the town contains a large, artificial body of water called, “Lake Inverarity” (Pynchon 41). Clearly, this establishes Pierce’s connection to the town, yet the reader never learns whether Pierce names the lake himself, or if the town chooses the name to honor him. The former case exemplifies Pierce’s role as hegemon directly whereas the latter case demonstrates a situation akin to the aforementioned intellectual’s role in reinforcing hegemony. The city government may have chosen the name Inverarity to signify its subservience to its wealthy master, which ultimately amounts to a passive endorsement of Pierce’s power in the public eye.



Speaking of the general public, the bourgeoisie cannot exist, even in a novella, without its binary opposite—the proletariat. If Pierce Inverarity represents the bourgeoisie, then his logical counterpart can be seen in Oedipa’s husband, Mucho Maas (Much Mass/Much More). Mucho quits his job as a used car salesman to become a radio deejay, but his abrupt career change affords him no relief: “He [is] a disc jockey who work[s] further along the Peninsula and suffer[s] a regular crisis on conscience about his profession. ‘I don’t believe in any of it, Oed,’ he could usually get out. ‘I try, I truly can’t’ […]”(Pynchon 4). Mucho’s lament seems quintessentially proletarian because laborers rarely (if ever) enjoy their jobs. Despite the fact that his job does not require strenuous manual labor, he still qualifies as a proletarian because he owns nothing and his job affords him no creative freedom. Mucho’s struggles echo Marx’s concept of estranged labor:
"This alienated labor, this labor, in which human beings alienate themselves from themselves, is a labor of self-denial and self-torture. Finally, the alienation of labor manifests itself to the laborer in that this labor does not belong to him, but to someone else; it does not belong to him; while he is doing it he does not belong to himself, but to another. . . . the activity of the laborer is not his own activity. It belongs to someone else, it is the loss of his self" (1).

As a deejay, Mucho’s experience of alienated labor seems especially intense as he is far removed from the music’s actual production and he speaks to an invisible audience, all while his boss monitors his every word. Basically, his job resembles a benign version of Foucault’s panoptical prison (553-556).




He despises his means of subsistence until he discovers Lysergic Acid Diethylamide (LSD). Acid becomes the solution to Mucho’s estranged labor problem because the drug effectively allows him to become one with his otherwise alienated audience (Pynchon 115-118). Marx understands the proletarian’s desire to escape from the endless cycle of forced labor, hence his famous line equating religion with opium. It is important to note the novella takes place in or around 1965, before the federal government bans LSD in 1966 and classifies it as a Schedule I controlled substance in 1970. By definition, a Schedule I substance holds a high potential for abuse, so the federal government considers LSD’s addictive potential on par with that of pure opium (Stafford 58-59).



Mucho disagrees. When Oedipa mentions that he may be becoming addicted to LSD, he states flatly, “You don’t get addicted. It’s not like you’re some hophead. You take it because it’s good. Because you hear and see things, even smell them, taste like you never could. Because the world is so abundant. No end to it, baby. You’re an antenna, sending your pattern out across a million lives a night, and they’re your lives, too”(Pynchon 117-118). Mucho’s defense of his drug of choice embodies Marx’s theory because he denies being addicted—despite the fact that he now needs the drug to feel satisfied with the job he despises. In his drug-induced trance, he thinks he’s literally transformed into an antenna, so his job and his identity merge into a single entity. Oedipa, an LSD user herself, begins to see Marx’s point as she witnesses the drug’s effects on her husband: “She could not quite get it into her head that the day she’d left him for San Narciso was the day she’d seen Mucho for the last time. So much of him had already dissipated.”(118). LSD renders Mucho a happy, obedient laborer, but at the expense of his true self. Oedipa internalizes these events and disavows LSD; Marx would likely applaud her efforts to escape a drug-induced false consciousness.



At the same time, Oedipa’s various attempts to free herself from her illusions and delusions ultimately prove futile as she’s never able to fully grasp the truth about herself and/or her reality. Oedipa briefly passes through one quasi-religious experience while on the freeway traveling to San Narciso, but she merely teeters on the cusp of revelation and fails to reach a definitive conclusion (14-15). The overt metaphor of Oedipa driving headstrong into an uncertain future symbolizes the tumultuous political climate of the 1960’s. With the benefit of hindsight, most contemporary readers will recognize Pynchon’s attempt to make sense of the nonsensical, yet pivotal decade. Literary critic Joseph Slade delves into Pynchon’s literary labyrinth: “Here Pynchon perceives the emerging forces of post-industrialism[…] America and its industrialism have reached an impasse, ‘a cul-de-sac,’ an ‘enigma’ created by capitalism that has ordered its world so rigidly that only new and charismatic energies can forestall entropy and redeem American’s democratic promise”(55). Oedipa’s ride effectively depicts a young American attempting to navigate through a world shrouded in paradox, seemingly stranded in a limbo land of competing metanarratives.



The depiction of a collision of competing metanarratives and the resulting cultural impasse left in its wake may reveal Pynchon’s postmodernist proclivities. Lyotard defines postmodernism as, “[…] Incredulity towards metanarratives”(356). In that respect, Oedipa’s cyclical journey seems to demonstrate the abject failure of multiple popular metanarratives, and is therefore unquestionably postmodern. Pynchon, a definitively 1960’s counterculture writer, likely incorporates postmodern themes within the text to capture his generation’s discomfort with its awkward, transitional place in history.

Oedipa’s name itself signifies Pynchon’s attempt at critiquing the Psychoanalytic metanarrative. Freud and his adherents place emphasis on a psychological phenomenon known as the Oedipus complex. For Freudians, the Oedipus complex involves a male child’s mildly incestuous attraction to his mother, a taboo bond that is eventually broken by the father. The Oedipus complex and its ensuing resolution are seen as vital to the child’s healthy psychological maturity (Freud 438-439). At the same time, Freud distinguishes between the male child’s oedipal complex and its female counterpart, commonly known as the Electra complex. But Pynchon’s protagonist’s name makes no reference to the inverted female version of the Oedipus complex, so Oedipa is a female character named after a distinctly male stage of psychosexual development. In fact, the irony of Oedipa’s name may serve as a constant reminder to the reader that Pynchon can never be taken at face value, much like the metanarratives he parodies.

Oedipa’s name may also mirror the Lacanian Oedipal nature of the plot structure. The triangular relationship between Oedipa, Pierce, and Mucho mirrors that of the Laconia conception of the Oedipus complex, but with a Pynchonian twist. In this instance, Oedipa (an adult) symbolizes a maladjusted individual still struggling to resolve the tension caused by her simultaneous attraction to the father figure (Pierce) and his replacement sexual object (Maas). Moreover, by making Oedipa the executor of his will, Pierce’s character re-enforces his role as the paternal influence because, “It is in the name of the father that we must recognize support of the symbolic function which, from the dawn of history, has identified his person with the figure of the law”(Lacan 3). Essentially, Pierce forces Oedipa to finally assume her adult responsibilities and thus complete the process of social assimilation. Yet, in fulfilling her duties as executor, Oedipa repeatedly encounters petite bourgeois males, which leads to her having an extramarital affair with Pierce’s former lawyer, Metzger. Basically, Pierce’s plan backfires as Oedipa’s fractured psyche appears incapable of resolving her oedipal conflict, which parallels the novel’s postmodern interpretation of the Psychoanalytic metanarrative. Through his perpetually confused and disaffected characters, Pynchon demonstrates the short-comings within a supposedly universal explanation for human behavior.



Additionally, Pynchon focuses his sights on the short-comings within the two most prominent Modern socio-economic metanarratives—capitalism and communism. Pynchon uses irony to defamiliarize the allegedly diametrically opposed binary ideological structures fueling the Cold War rivalry between the United States and Russia. The supposed right-wing conspiracy theorist Michael Fallopian scolds the liberal lawyer Metzger for his inability to think outside of the artificially constructed ideological paradigm: “You think like a Bircher […] Good guys and bad guys. You never get to any of the underlying truth. Sure [fictional right wing icon Peter Pinguid] was against industrial capitalism. So are we. Didn’t it lead, inevitably, to Marxism? Underneath, both are part of the same creeping horror” (Pynchon 37). Pynchon purposefully inverts Marx’s model to mock the notion that the competing theories are inextricably linked even within Marx’s reactionary response to the capitalist metanarrative. The conversation between Fallopian and Metzger is therefore uniquely postmodern because the two men are so comfortable with the metanarratives they discuss that both tales become blasé.

Their subsequent conversation conveys a sense of utter postmodern futility. When Fallopian describes his opposition to the corporatization of the American inventor, Metzger asks, “How can you be against a corporation that wants a worker to waive his patent rights. That sounds like the surplus value theory to me, fella, and you sound like a Marxist” (Pynchon,71). This dialogue represents the complete breakdown of once powerful political discourse. Pynchon may be hinting that the partisan divisions within American politics are becoming so blurry they’ve all but disappeared.



Of course, Pynchon’s hazy portrait of 1960’s politics perfectly juxtaposes the idealistic love generation paving the way for the election of Richard Nixon. From a distance, the sharp ideological battle lines of the 1960s appear so rigid, yet they eventually gave way to the bland centrism of the present. Perhaps Pynchon’s postmodern stance predicts the diffusion of ideology in American political discourse. The consequences of the failure of metanarratives coupled with the decline of distinct political philosophies can be seen in the nation’s current healthcare debate, or lack thereof. The extreme members of both major political parties stand on the sidelines watching as centrists rule the roost. Occasionally, the extremists cause a stir, but within twenty-four hours, it’s back to status quo politics as usual, i.e., a deplorable corporatized healthcare system.



Works Cited

Foucault, Michel. “Discipline and Punish.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing, Maldon, Ma, 2004.

Freud, Sigmund. “Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego.”Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing, Maldon, Ma, 2004.
Gramsci, Antonio. “Hegemony.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds, Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing, Maldon, Ma, 2004.

Lacan, Jacques. “The Symbolic Order.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing, Maldon, Ma, 2004.

Lutz, Donald S. The Origins of American Constitutionalism. Louisiana State University Press, Baton Rouge, 1988.

Lyotard, Jean-Franscois. “The Postmodern Condition.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing, Maldon, Ma, 2004.

Marx, Karl. “The Alienation of Labor.” Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844. World Civilizations: An Internet Classroom and Anthology. Washington State University website. 15 August 2009. http://www.wsu.edu:8080/~dee/MODERN/ALIEN.HTM

Marx, Karl and Friedrich Engels. The Communist Manifesto. Barnes and Noble Books, New York, 2005.

Marx, Karl. Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right. Ed. Joseph O’Malley. Cambridge University Press, New York, 1970. 16 August 2009. http://www.wsu.edu:8080/~dee/MODERN/ALIEN.HTM

Pynchon, Thomas. The Crying of Lot 49. First Perennial Classics, New York, 1999.

Slade, Joseph W. “Thomas Pynchon, Postindustrial Humanist.” Technology and Culture. Vol. 23, No. 1 (Jan 1982) pgs. 53-72. John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 1982.

Stafford, Peter. Psychedelics Encyclopedia. Ronin Publishing, Inc., Berkeley, 1992.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Analysis #4- Friedrich Nietzsche: O.G. Postmodernist

Katherine Tattersfield

Postmodern Roots in Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil

Modernism presents a number of meta-narratives, including Enlightenment rationalism and its economic counterpart, capitalism. These meta-narratives represent an attempt to explain the emergence of seemingly random socio-political systems within the western world. While Marxism presents a reactionary viewpoint, it too qualifies as a meta-narrative because it attempts to provide both a universal account for occurrences and a viable alternative paradigm. As Marxism battles rationalistic capitalism, modernity itself, along with its meta-narratives, become the target of postmodern skepticism. Indeed, Lyotard defines postmodernism as, “[…] Incredulity toward metanarratives” (356). The advent of post-modern thought typically coincides with the end of WWII, yet shades of its tenets can be found in much earlier works, such as Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil (1886). By juxtaposing Nietzsche’s text with postmodern theory, we can examine Nietzsche’s probable influence on his intellectual successors.

Nietzsche begins his critique by taking aim at the people he refers to as “philosophers” (5), yet the approach of his scathing appraisal can be considered highly innovative. Instead of focusing on the validity of his predecessor’s conclusions, Nietzsche, “[…] Calls into question the very basis of philosophizing” (Holub 11). Nietzsche’s willingness to attack the act of philosophizing itself reflects the later hyperbolic postmodern doubt. Furthermore, Nietzsche’s diction in this instance is somewhat misleading, because he includes natural scientists in the same category as philosophers. As a philologist, Nietzsche loves manipulating language—especially to subtly convey a deeper meaning. Thus he likely refers to scientists as philosophers in an effort to unmask the hidden value system within an ostensibly value-neutral meta-narrative. Nietzsche’s somewhat nuanced point echoes in Lyotard’s observation about positivism: “[Science] then produces a discourse of legitimation with respect to its own status, a discourse called philosophy”(354). Lyotard’s insight seems to be an attempt to explicitly state what Nietzsche merely implies. Similarities between the two texts are so striking—that it’s nearly impossible to assume that the former does not inspire the latter.

Although Nietzsche lacks Lyotard’s directness, he hints at the existence of multiple meta-narratives. In his chapter on philosophers, Nietzsche states that, “It now may be dawning on five or six thinkers that even physics is only a way of interpreting or arranging the world (if [he] may say so: according to [him and his brethren]) and not a way of explaining the world”(15). Here Nietzsche clearly distinguishes physic’s supposedly objective emphasis on the empirical from its place within the value-laden scientific meta-narrative. Essentially, Nietzsche’s recognizing the presence of the meta-narrative, though he stops short of labeling the overarching framework as such. Additionally, Nietzsche becomes notorious for his identification and subsequent rejection of the religious meta-narrative: “Being religious and finding a religious significance to life sheds sunshine on the constantly afflicted people, even enabling them to bear the sight of themselves; it has the same effect as the Epicurean philosophy tends to have an a higher class of sufferer: refreshing, purifying, exploiting suffering, as it were, and ultimately even sanctifying and justifying it” (55). This passage illuminates another of Nietzsche’s contributions to post-modernism, because in it he articulates the oppressive nature of the religious meta-narrative. Nietzsche probably isn’t the first to discover the repressiveness of religion, but his description of the systematic way in which the religious meta-narrative enslaves its adherents undoubtedly plants the seeds of ensuing postmodern cynicism.


Works Cited
Holub, Robert C. “Introduction to Beyond Good and Evil.” Beyond Good and Evil. Friedrich Nietzsche. Trans. Marion Faber. Oxford University Press, New York, 1998.

Lyotard, Jean-Francois. “The Postmodern Condition.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing, Maldon, Ma, 2004.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. Beyond Good and Evil. Trans. Marion Faber. Oxford University Press, New York, 1998.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Analysis #3- The Crying of Psychoanalytic Theory

Katherine Tattersfield

Psychoanalyzing Pynchon

For centuries, the Enlightenment concept of the human mind as a tabula rasa at birth dominates Western thought. The tabula rasa seems to perfectly intertwine Enlightenment secularism with social contract theory via its emphasis on the social nature of man. The intelligentsia appears satisfied with this explanation for human consciousness until Sigmund Freud casts doubt on this most basic assumption. Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, decides that it is his life’s calling to, “[…] Agitate the sleep of mankind” (Gay 1). According to Freud, the tabula rasa does not exist, because man arrives equipped with inherent, instinctual drives at birth. Freud’s conception of man sparks controversy from the time of its inception to that of the modern era. Yet, through the application of psychoanalytic theories, Freud and his contemporaries, such as Jacques Lacan, offer fresh insight into the human mind as well as the creative arts, namely literature. Indeed, complex novels such as Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49 present an enigma for the reader to decode---a puzzle easier to comprehend through a psychoanalytic lens.

Pynchon’s penchant for irony and parody are particularly evident in the novel’s protagonist, Oedipa Maas. Her very name suggests a psychoanalytic connection as Freud and his adherents place emphasis on a psychological phenomenon known as the Oedipus complex. For Freudians, the Oedipus complex involves a male child’s mildly incestuous attraction to his mother, a taboo bond that is eventually broken by the father. The Oedipus complex and its ensuing resolution are seen as vital to the child’s healthy psychological maturity (Freud 438-439). At the same time, Freud distinguishes between the male child’s Oedipal complex and its female counterpart, commonly known as the Electra complex. But Pynchon’s protagonist’s name makes no reference to the inverted female version of the Oedipus complex, so Oedipa is a female character named after a distinctly male stage of psychosexual development. In fact, the irony of Oedipa’s name may serve as a constant reminder to the reader that Pynchon can never be taken at face value.

Additionally, Oedipa’s name likely represents the Lacanian Oedipal nature of the plot structure. In the beginning, the reader learns that, “[…] Oedipa had been named executor, or she supposed executrix, of the estate of one Pierce Inverarity, a California real estate mogul […]” (Pynchon 1). Later, the reader learns that Pierce Inverarity (another play on words) is Oedipa’s ex-boyfriend, the last man she dates before marrying her husband, Mucho Maas (Much Mass/Much More.) This triangular relationship between Oedipa, Pierce, and Mucho mirrors that of the Laconia conception of the Oedipus complex, but with a Pynchonian twist. In this instance, Oedipa (an adult) symbolizes a maladjusted individual still struggling to resolve the tension caused by her simultaneous attraction to the father figure (Pierce) and his replacement sexual object (Maas.)

Furthermore, by making Oedipa the executor of his will, Pierce’s character re-enforces his role as the paternal influence because, “It is in the name of the father that we must recognize support of the symbolic function which, from the dawn of history, has identified his person with the figure of the law”(Lacan 3). Essentially, Pierce forces Oedipa to finally assume her adult responsibilities and thus complete the process of social assimilation. Yet, in fulfilling her duties as executor, Oedipa repeatedly encounters male lawyers, which leads to several sexual encounters. Basically, Pierce’s plan backfires as Oedipa’s fractured psyche appears incapable of resolving her Oedipal conflict, which parallels the novel’s anti-climactic ending. Ultimately, Pynchon leaves both Oedipa and the reader in limbo, forever on the cusp of reaching a satisfying conclusion.

Works Cited

Freud, Sigmund. “Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego.” Literary Theory: An Anthology.Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing, Maldon, Ma, 2004

Gay, Peter. “Sigmund Freud: A Brief Life.” Civilization and Its Discontents. Sigmund Freud. Trans. James Strachey. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., New York, 1961.

Lacan, Jacques. “The Symbolic Order.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing, Maldon, Ma, 2004.

Pynchon, Thomas. The Crying of Lot 49. First Perennial Classics, New York, 1999.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

For Your Consideration......

Katherine Tattersfield Private Property: An American Opiate

The Communist Manifesto specifically states that one of Communism’s primary goals entails the following: “Abolition of property in land and application of all rents of land to public purposes” (Marx 27). Anti-communist sentiment, especially in America, often revolves around this seemingly threatening statement. While Marx’s bold declaration may appear frightening at first glance, I contend that American’s needn’t be concerned with the dissolution of so-called private property because, in the United States, the concept of private property is a public illusion. This is by no means an original idea; however, the explanation I will offer is indeed my own.

I’ll begin by defining what I mean by “private property.” For the purpose of this essay, private property refers to land as well as buildings, be they houses, storefronts, or sky-rises. It is important to note that in this instance, private property does not include anything beyond land and/or buildings such as consumer goods, automobiles, and the like. Also, Marx’s definition of private property differs from the one I have proposed, so please don’t assume any relationship between our respective definitions.

Now that I’ve defined private property, let’s explore how this concept has been incorporated into American political thought. During the time of the American founding, European enlightenment philosophy had an enormous impact on colonial political discourse. Locke’s influence is particularly evident in Jefferson’s “Declaration of Independence,” (a document with no legal weight) and many scholars view the American Constitution as an essentially Lockean document. Locke bases his interpretation of natural rights theory on the ownership of property and yet, the word property itself appears nowhere in the basic text of the Constitution of 1789. The term property doesn’t exist in the Constitution until the adoption of the Bill of Rights in 1791. Even then, the Bill of Rights contains no guarantee whatsoever of the right to own property.

Oddly enough, the term appears in the Bill of Rights twice, albeit exclusively within the text of the Fifth Amendment, as part of the due process clause and the takings clause. Its first appearance merely obliges the federal government to abide by an undefined procedure labeled “due process of law” (Ginsberg 36). In other words, the federal government has permission to deprive an individual of his/her property as long as it operates within the confines of unspecified legal requirements. Hence, a clause that ostensibly limits governmental authority actually creates a substantial amount of leeway for the government to exercise its power. Since the government defines due process, the restraints placed upon it are self-imposed and thus more likely to favor the government over the citizen.

Furthermore, property’s second appearance in the Fifth Amendment proves more problematic for Lockean theory. The takings clause, more commonly known as eminent domain, grants the federal government permission to confiscate private property for public use as long as it provides, “[…] Just compensation” (Ginsberg 36). Again, vague terminology reigns supreme as “just compensation” yields a plethora of interpretations and opens the door for abuse of governmental power in a similar manner. For example, the Supreme Court recognizes that private property need not be physically confiscated to constitute a “taking,” but also stipulates that a citizen must prove a total, as opposed to partial, loss of property value before holding the government liable for compensation (Lucas v South Carolina Coastal Council). The Court’s decision clearly favors an expansive interpretation of the governments’ Constitutional authority. Additionally, in Hawaii Housing Authority v Midkiff, the Court found no Constitutional violation in the government’s use of the takings clause to confiscate private property and resell said property to commercial developers for a profit. The Court’s ruling profoundly contradicts Lockean theory, yet the Framers themselves seemingly encourage such conclusions as a result of their collective penchant for ambiguity (O’Brien 1054-1056).

Property reappears one final time in the Constitution via the Fourteenth Amendment due process clause: “[…] Nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property without due process of law […]”(Ginsberg 43). Ratified in 1868, the Fourteenth Amendment due process clause seems virtually identical to that of the Fifth Amendment, except for a single, vital distinction, namely the use of one word: state. Originally, the Fifth Amendment and the rest of the Bill of Rights applied only to the federal government and not the individual State governments. The Fourteenth Amendment due process clause imposes the same loose procedural duties on the State governments as the Fifth Amendment mandates at the federal level. Therefore, the aforementioned analysis of the Fifth Amendment due process clause applies to that of the Fourteenth as well. Consequently, the Fourteenth Amendment protects property rights to the same extent as that of the Fifth Amendment, which means a miniscule amount at best.

Of course, government encroachment on property rights does not stop where the Constitution is silent. Indeed, property taxes are tantamount to leasing land from the government, and transform so-called property owners into simple tenants. To a lesser extent, warrants can represent another infringement on property rights. As a result, the typical American reaction to Marx’s elimination of private property appears somewhat misguided. Viewed in this light, the American theory of a diffusion of power hardly seems an appropriate antidote to Marx’s concentrated authority. If anything, Marx’s theory should feel less threatening because Marx avoids the complex legalese the American Framers employed to simultaneously confuse and placate the body politic.

Works Cited
Ginsberg, Benjamin and Eric Ackerman. A Guide to the United States Constitution. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2007.

Marx, Karl and Friedrich Engels. The Communist Manifesto and Other Writings. New York: Barnes and Noble Books Inc., 2005.

O’Brien, David M. Constitutional Law and Politics Volume One: Struggles for Power and Governmental Accountability. “The Takings Clause and Just Compensation.” New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2008.

O’Connor, Sandra Day. “Opinion of the Court in Hawaii Housing Authority v Midkiff.” Constitutional Law and Politics Volume One: Struggles for Power and Governmental Accountability. Ed. David M. O’Brien. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2008.

Scalia, Antonin. “Opinion of the Court in Lucas v South Carolina Coastal Council.” Constitutional Law and Politics Volume One: Struggles for Power and Governmental Accountability. Ed. David M. O’Brien. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2008.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Analysis #2

Katherine Tattersfield

Goin' to California- A Narrative Word Picture

A young man poses in front of a camera while a stranger snaps a picture. Six months ago, he left his home in Indiana, headed for California. He told his parents he was just going for a drive. Now he stands in the front yard of Ken Kesey’s ranch in La Honda. He’s shoved a letter from his mother into his back pocket. She begs for him to return home because his father’s very angry and demands to know what he thinks he’s doing. He sucks in smoke from his joint and tries to picture the look on his father’s face as he opens the envelope.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Mr. MoJo Signified

In “Course in General Linguistics,” Saussure introduces the reader to his ground-breaking new science called “Semiology”(Saussure 60). Semiology explores the complex inter-relationship between the “signified and the signifier” (Ibid 62). Essentially, Semiotics illuminates the fact that language is tantamount to an endless dialogue in which ideas (the signified) and sound-images (signifiers) are paradoxically and inextricably linked. Saussure’s insight helps explain why the above image of Jim Morrison (the signifier) invokes the concept of rebellion (the signified) in most people. According to Saussure, Morrison signifies rebellion as a result of his “relative position” (Ibid 68) to a multitude of other signifiers. Consequently, the image of Morrison derives its connotative meaning (the signified) according to his relative position to another antipodean signifier, such as a police officer.

Works Cited
Saussure, Ferdinand de. "Literary Theory: An Anthology." Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Blackwell Publishing. Maldon, Ma, 2004. (60-71).

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Analysis #1- Screaming Slaves

Katherine Tattersfield

"Happiness In Slavery"
slave screams he thinks he knows what he wants
slave screams thinks he has something to say
slave screams he hears but doesn't want to listen
slave screams he's being beat into submission
don't open your eyes you won't like what you see
the devils of truth steal the souls of the free
don't open your eyes take it from me
I have foundyou can find
happiness in slavery
slave screams he spends his life learning conformity
slave screams he claims he has his own identity
slave screams he's going to cause the system to fall
slave screams but he's glad to be chained to that wall
don't open your eyes you won't like what you see
the blind have been blessed with security
don't open your eyes take it from me
I have found
you can find
happiness in slavery
I don't know what I am I don't know where I've been
human junk just words and so much skin
stick my hands through the cage of this endless routine
just some flesh caught in this big broken machine

Justice?
The Republic of Plato explores a plethora of themes, but ultimately, it amounts to rumination about the meaning of justice and the political ramifications therein. Some controversy surrounds the correct interpretation of the text; the exoteric notion that the Republic represents Socrates’/Plato’s sincere utopian blueprint has been attacked by Straussian scholars, who suggest that the book should be considered an ironic, metaphoric warning from Plato to his contemporaries. Both schools of thought offer insight into the ancient text, which remains highly relevant to modernity despite its antiquity.

In Books 2 and 3, Plato depicts Socrates discussing the education of the guardians, the military class within his ideal polis. The life of a guardian parallels that of the nameless slave narrator in Trent Reznor’s song, “Happiness in Slavery.” The song begins with the line, “Slave screams! He thinks he knows what he wants,” which reflects Socrates’ conviction that the guardians needs to be told lies, “…From their earliest childhood, if they are to honor the gods and their parents, and to value their friendship with each other”(Plato 24). Essentially, Socrates feels the guardians must be brainwashed in order to fulfill their purpose for the city, hence why the slave only thinks he knows what he wants. In reality, his innermost desires are nothing but a carefully constructed byproduct of the “nobles lies”(Plato 54) he’s been spoon-fed since birth.

The noble lies are a necessary evil because the guardians pose a perpetual threat to the polis’ safety; as such, Socrates states that their natures must be akin to that of dogs: “You know, of course, that by nature the disposition of noble dogs is to be gentle as can be with their familiars and people they know and the opposite with those they don’t know”(Ibid 53). The guardians must be trained so as to systematically eliminate any sense of individuality, which is why the nameless slave, “Spends his life learning conformity,” and merely, “Claims he has his own identity.”Indeed, Socrates creates an elaborate arrangement designed to psychologically condition the guardians that goes beyond simple obedience; he realizes that, in order to be truly effective, the guardians must masochistically love their oppressors, just as a dog loves its abusive master. The nameless slave articulates this co-dependent relationship, analogous to Stockholm syndrome, when he insists that, “He’s gonna cause the system to fall,” yet in the next line, he admits that, “He’s glad to be chained to that wall.”

Works Cited

Bloom, Allan ed. The Republic of Plato. New York: Basic Books, 1968.
Murray, Penelope and T.S. Dorsch. Classical Literary Criticism. New York: Penguin, 2004.

Reznor, Trent. Happiness in Slavery.
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/nineinchnails/happinessinslavery.html

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