On text and other terms
I would like to preface this post by saying when I started I had no actual plan of attack or even knowledge of what to write about (I should have outlined it), so if it comes off as incoherent and/or not a well-structured argument, I request a pass.
In this week?s readings, Aarseth and Hayles discussed the importance of considering nonlinearity and materiality of texts. They talked about the differences between electronic and print text. They debated the definition of the word ?text.? And after it all I was left with a pretty simple question: does any of this actually matter? Now, let me begin by saying that I think it?s true that materiality and linearity can have a significant impact on out understanding of and interaction with a ?text.? But I don?t think that quibbling over definitions and creating classification systems is really all that important. Useful? Maybe. Important? Not so much.
Before I get into that, however, I want to touch on a couple of items from Nelson?s article. Nelson says that in order to evaluate systems for writing, we need to understand the writing process. He goes on to simplify that process saying ?the task of writing is one of rearrangement and reprocessing? (p. 136). I find this description of the writing process interesting because it leaves out, yet implies, perhaps the more important pieces of the process: arrangement and processing. Nelson flatly dismisses the invention phase of writing. In fact, he literally calls those who use outlines ?hacks.? I, personally, do not use an outline. My writing process would not allow for such a thing (just to differentiate myself from hacks like James Fenimore Cooper). But that doesn?t mean that I don?t recognize its value.
Later in his article, Nelson defines hypertext as ?a body of written or pictorial material interconnected in such a complex way that it could not conveniently be presented or represented on paper? (p. 144). I would agree with such a basic (yet incomplete) definition, but it brings up the earlier case of outlining. I?ve done a fair amount of basic web design, and some projects can get to be very complicated. Could I write an essay to describe them? No. But did I need to create some sort of visual representation of them before implementation so that I knew what I was doing? Yes. The more complex the project, the more important prior planning and some form of outlining becomes. And by the same token, it would become essential for somebody creating a complex hypertext document like the ones that Aarseth and Hayles mention.
Aarseth states that nonlinear texts are sequences of words that ?may differ from reading to reading because of the shape, conventions, or mechanisms of the text? (p. 762). He differentiates this from a text that has a non-linear story but is presented in a linear fashion. For Aarseth, linearity is a function of the text?s physical structure, not the story. I find this separation to be rather uninteresting if not useless. The fact is, we receive elements of the narrative linearly. All stories come to us in pieces and they all come one at a time. So, whether or not I had to turn from page 18 to page 19 or to page 67 to hear the next part of the story is irrelevant.
Aarseth says that ?the nonlinear cannot lie and pretend to be linear? (p. 764). I say the nonlinear doesn?t have to lie because it does not truly exist. All ?nonlinear? stories are just linear stories in disguise. Aarseth is correct in saying that either the plot or the physical presentation can act to represent nonlinearity, but they are still linear stories. When I read House of Leaves, just because I have to turn to the back or look at the book in a mirror doesn?t change the fact that the story follows a set path. Aarseth says the simplest way to create a nonlinear text is create a ?script forking out in two directions on a surface forcing [the user] to choose one path in preference to another? (p. 768). That?s fine ? but once I?ve chosen my path, hasn?t the text become linear? A choose your own adventure book is great, but isn?t integrating plot choices just a combination of multiple linear texts? While it may be useful to have a language to describe such texts (and Aarseth provides a good one), is differentiating them as linear and nonlinear important? I don?t think so. Just because a tree splits into two trunks doesn?t make us call it a nonlinear tree.
My distaste for Aarseth?s differentiation is similar to my problem with the use of the word text and with Hayles?s argument over its meaning. My question is this: if the use of the word text is so problematic, why are we using it? Often in rhetorical studies the word artifact is used. An artifact can be anything that one is studying: a speech, an image, a book, a movie, and on and on. What does arguing over the definition of a term accomplish? Nothing except for a long discourse on the definition of the term. Hayles starts off just fine, saying that transforming a print document into electronic text is a ?media translation.? A transformation: something different. She also says that such a transformation ?radically alters how a reader encounters the work; by changing how the work means, such a move alters what it means? (p. 90). Now, these are statements I can get behind. The fact is, if the materiality of something is radically altered, it?s no longer the original object. If I chop up my double-trunked tree we don?t call it a chopped tree, we call it firewood. We don?t have to argue about the nature of its treeness or its woodness. But, yet, Hayles argues about textuality.
Her problem is that definitions of the word text focus on ?the actual order of words and punctuation? that make up a larger work (p. 94). Such a definition is problematic for Hayles because she feels that ?the physical form of the literary artifact always affects what the words ? mean? (Material, p. 25). I want to come back to her use of the phrase ?literary artifact?, but first wrap up the text topic. What it comes down to, and Hayles appears to agree, is that what the word text means only matters if you are not talking about ?hypertext? (a word with its own issues) or transformed print text or some other form of new text. She states that ?our notions of textuality are shot through with assumptions specific to print? (p. 89) and that it?s time to reformulate such notions. Hayles later claims that it is ?inappropriate? to compare a new medium to one that has been around for over 500 years (p. 99). The fact is the word ?text? is not strong enough to describe all of the changes that have occurred in literature and overall story-telling. It?s time to adopt a word that encompasses all of the different forms. We need a classification system of literary artifacts.
Hayles believes that textuality ?cannot be separated from the delivery vehicles that produce it? (p. 102) and that we cannot create a robust understanding of how literature is changing ?under the impact of information technologies? without examining the materiality of texts (Material, p. 19). If this is true, then we need something to encompass this new world. If the word text doesn?t apply, we need to use a different word. What I envision is a set of genres of literary artifacts. The word ?text? doesn?t work in a broad sense, but it?s still useful in its more narrow forms. A literary artifact might be a narrative text or an electronic text or something else without the word text. But at some point we need to stop using narrowly defined terms to refer to broad concepts. The argument is unimportant. What we need is someone to stand up and yell ?Shut Up! Use this broader term instead and let?s get on with actually learning something.? And I believe that Hayles has tried to do that, although what effect she has had I?m not sure.