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5.0 out of 5 stars
plenty of complexity, May 16, 2010
Settling into winter early in 2012 with such a fine appreciation of heckling, I can appreciate Ken Hirschkop's book, Mikhail Bakhtin/an Aesthetic For Democracy (1999, 2002) much better than when I received it in 2010. Meaninglessness is a fiction, and I now find something that is worth quoting because I am so familiar with Weber's idea of "purposive-rational action" (p. 265) that I can see how to love literature in a society of spectacle turning ordinary life inside out on a much deeper level than life pretends to have.
Meaningless, endless, probably
repetitive everyday life is
therefore not so much a product
of modernity as one of its leading
fictions. Bakhtin thus parts company
with the line of cultural criticism
with which he otherwise has a great
deal in common - the critique of
instrumental reason. According to
the line of cultural argument
which extends from early sociology
through to Habermas, the sin of
capitalist civilization is that
it introduces a means-oriented,
instrumental rationality which
worries only about how to be
efficient, rather than about
the value of one's actions.
Whether this is expressed in
Weber's idea of `purposive-
rational action', the Frankfurt
School's idea of instrumental
reason, or Habermas's concept of
strategic action, it expresses
the belief in the possibility
of a mode of conduct where
unrationalized interests drive
one forward. The strategic actor
aims to manipulate others, or
maximize profits, or maintain
power, and he (one may well
let it remain a he in this case)
uses language to achieve the
desired result. (p. 265).
Adjusting to a crash in which I take part at the bottom in the bottom dropping out of anything that resembled mathematics in a society that is based on simple electronic piracy makes it easy to see literary life in pure forms of heckling where intellectuals like Hirschkop still have questions:
The obvious question
is whether such a thing
is, in fact, possible,
or whether the strategic
actor is merely a useful
fiction for those who
hope that culture or language
in themselves are a source
of cooperation and unselfish
human effort. One could hardly
deny that people act
instrumentally - that they
manipulate others, make
cost-benefit calculations,
seek to maximize their
power and wealth, or just
react in self-defense.
But whether one can explain this
by recourse to the political-
economic category of `interest'
(class or personal), the ethico-
religious idea of the selfish,
or belief in an ego which can
effectively isolate itself from
intersubjective considerations,
is another matter. (p. 265).
I have been struggling with some issues that seem historical to me, in spite of the fact that screaming in downtown Saint Paul, Minnesota is like a voice crying in the wilderness, even when I yell: I would rather be Samson. I really would like to understand this book, but any individual interest is compared to an inert object, unable to take part in the intersubjectivity that makes language part of socio-ideological movements in history. The book is way too optimistic about democracy for me. All the messages I hear about tax cuts based on the economic interests of individual millionaires and billionaires might not be exciting in a novel, but they don't get to the fundamental question: who did these people think they were trying to fool?
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