Evoking Lunsford and Ede, Jarratt claims that the goal of
rhetoric is to create an expanding, dynamic sense of ethos between author and
audience (1390). At first, I didn’t understand this, but considering Kinneavy who
emphasizes writing’s primary role as the articulation of the individual,
Jarratt, Ede, and Lunsford begin to make more sense. What Jarratt is analyzing
are the metaphoric and metonymic ways in which Spivak, Minh-ha, and Menchú Tum
disrupt “first world” constructions of postcolonial female identities; each
person whose work Jarratt analyzes does so by deconstruction.
Remembering structuralism from the Critical Theory class I
took two years ago, structuralism looks at the relationship between constituents
of a whole—how the individual elements of a text relate to the construction of
the whole. Thus the accompanying assumption of structuralism is that the relationship
between the constituents and the whole, as well as a sense of the whole, hinges
on some sort of stable center. In other words, in order to have a notion of the
whole, we have to have some central meaning associated to it, like a theme in
literature. Post-structuralism/deconstruction on the other hand, de-stabilizes
a sense of the whole, undoing the notion of centrality (Derrida called this “de-centering”).
In deconstruction, therefore, the notion of one whole is abandoned. This paved the
way for what amounts to cognitive dissonance in textual interpretation:
feminist, queer, postcolonial, postmodern, historicist, and race lenses can all
be applied to a text with equal validity.
Jarratt’s subjects, each in her own way, disrupts the
identity thrown over them by people who have materially different realities—people
who lack the authority to do so, in other words. Metaphor and metonymy are the
specific things Jarratt examines. Spivak, for example, creates reactive personae
that contradict white, first world metaphors of Indian women(1386); Minh-ha
replaces the context by which first world authors construct metonymy by redefining
the relationship between the self and the collective (1389-90); and Menchú Tum—she’s
another matter entirely.
Rather than leading the reader to assume that deconstruction
and distancing one’s identity or one’s group’s identity from the audience is
the modus operandi of feminists reacting to first world constructions of their
identity, Menchú Tum actually seeks to close the gap between audience and
author (1394). Jarratt wants to establish frameworks for subjectivity that do
not so easily divorce themselves from context (1395). It is this context that
gives rise to the individual dynamic, one that is too often placed out of that
context or replaced altogether. Here, Jarratt moves to a pithy statement about
advocacy: “And by enabling our students to write multiple versions of
themselves informed by a knowledge of rhetoric in its political and figurative
functions, we may give them access to their own experiences of conjunction and
disjunction” (1396). Further, she responds implicitly to Bartholomae, who
assumes that all students are trying to gain entrance into academic discourse
communities: postcolonial feminist restructurings “might help us as we read
student writing about the self to discover how students resist or refigure
ethos and audience to characterize their own relations to the academy” (1391). If
the way we characterize our identities through writing (and other rhetorical
activities) is my establishing ourselves as similar and different to
established identities, and by substituting the unknown with the known, then Jarratt’s
considerations of that ever-dynamic process influence how we read the writing
of students with disabilities as well as disability involves as much the ablist
unauthorized metaphoric and metonymic construction of identity as first world
[white male] constructions of postcolonial woman identity.
The multiple selves seems pretty close to how you were framing the multiple discourse communities that students and teachers participate in.
ReplyDelete