The Materiality Of Language

In the reading of David Bleich’s The Materiality of Language this semester, my eyes have been opened to a much wider range of language use, and I have gained a whole new perspective on how to analyse and interpret texts. I had not previously noticed that a lot of my reading and thinking had been based in what I now know is called ‘Platonic realism’. Abstractions that appeared in these texts hold their meaning when they aren’t questioned. This can be a dangerous thing if the historical connotations and collectively accepted feelings at the time these texts were produced have since become outdated. As a student there was an invisible, unconscious yet obviously learned force inside of me that was able to divorce the words I was reading from their social and historical context.

Bleich speaks on a ‘tacit reliance, a faith, a presupposed belief in the referentiality, the primacy, and the clarity of the spoken voice speaking to the hearing ear’. (Bleich, page 163) Using a one-to-one reference and believing that every word the author writes is perfectly translated from their thought has played a part in maintaining the university curriculum for hundreds of years. The problem with this is that the universities are based upon, as Bleich puts it, the ‘men’s clubs’ (Bleich, page 300) of the 1200s which were born from males making the rules and organizing disciplines. I’ve been given assignments where I have been told to study texts, sometimes hundreds of years old, and interpret them. The problem I find with this now, having learned about the materiality of language, is the lack of clear direction of whether to take them as they were written or in the context of today’s politics and culture.

Of course, it is important to maintain a healthy scepticism about what you read. One thing that Bleich has taught me is that gaining a critical distance from what you are reading will help a huge amount in discerning whether the point being made is based completely in the time it was written or has a lasting meaning. Writing off a piece of text purely because it was not conceived during the current zeitgeist would be misguided. It is important not to essentialize the abstract concepts put forth in texts such as the Bible or the Declaration of Independence. This is how the sacralization of texts happens, when we consider them unquestionable and unchanging.

As an example of this, we can examine two ways of looking at the US Constitution and its enforcement. There is a term ‘originalism’ used in law that refers to construing the Constitution and all claims made by it based on the original understanding ‘at the time it was adopted’. (Boyce) In 1983, there was a case in the Supreme Court which questioned whether the prayer at the start of each legislative day in Nebraska should be offered by a paid chaplain. (Vile) Ernest Chambers, a member of the legislature, questioned whether the practice violated the establishment clause of the First Amendment, which is supposed to prevent the state from interfering in the essential autonomy of religious life. It was decided by the Supreme Court that it didn’t. Chief Justice Warren Burger stated that the practice was “deeply embedded in the history and tradition of this country”. This is an originalistic point of view and goes against the materiality of language in that it holds the Constitution to a permanent and authoritative standard. Bleich makes the point that although the founders of the US Constitution allowed for it to be altered, 75 percent of states must have approved the alterations. This rule has not changed in two centuries, and thus has led to the sacralization of the US Constitution.

Originalism is rooted in platonic realism. This approach is refuted by the more materialistic ‘loose constructionism’, which claims that the Constitution holds a malleable meaning and develops alongside society. I think an example of this line of thinking is presented by law and literary critic James Boyd White. He says that ‘little of what happens in any real utterance is reducible to the words uttered, let alone to the propositions they are supposed to express’, (Bleich, page 233). Had this perception been used in Marsh v Chambers, the Supreme Court may have ruled that it did break the establishment clause. Advancement of religious life means something different today, and it did in 1983, than it did when the establishment clause of the First Amendment was written.

It might also be argued that the Platonic realism Bleich claims has been present in universities for centuries has led to the use of a strict style guide that students must adhere to lest they be considered overly colloquial and put into an out-group. The binary nature of Platonic realism pushes a hierarchy, a sense of one way of language use being purer than the next. Just this semester, I submitted an assignment to a WRTC professor (who I admire greatly), for which I got a good grade. In the comments, they said they were ‘ignoring the Britishisms’. This is feedback I have come to expect during my time as a student. I’m not sure it should matter whether I use ‘s’ or ‘z’ in a verb. I’ve had this professor before, and they are aware of my background. If I am referring to something done in an orderly fashion and I say that there was good ‘organisation’ instead of ‘organization’, there is no difference in what I mean. Had this professor not ignored parts of what I’d written in my mother tongue, in my own voice, would I have been marked down?

It put the idea in my head that the way I use English might be considered by some as somewhat inferior. This one sentence of feedback for my essay made me feel like I wasn’t using the ‘right’ English put forward by the Platonic-realist style guide. I wasn’t reaching the highest expression due to my use of a slightly different vernacular. Should I have to disguise my voice to fit the standards of language set in motion by men who lived centuries ago, far removed from my situation today? There has been so much historical and social change since that it seems redundant. It would be a problem if I submitted the assignment completely in French, knowing that the professor was not fluent in the language. That would leave as huge chance for misinterpretation. I’m not sure my professor’s problem with my essay was the risk of misinterpretation. My thought process in using the word ‘organisation’ would be no different from an American person’s thought process in using the word ‘organization’.

I referred earlier to James Boyd White and his efforts to unpack the language of law from transparency. He rejected the way that binary ways of using language strong-arms people into using a strict style that disguises their voice. The Platonic realist view that meaning rests solely and inherently in the text and cannot be changed forces rigid rules that are in place not just in reading but in writing. It follows that if you read in a binary, right and wrong way that you will end up writing in that way. The in group will always be in control of who is in the out group, and those in the out group will be forced to comply with the language standards of the in group in order to join. This is how the cycle of Platonic realism in universities continues.

While creation of writing standards is one manifestation of the binary thinking present in platonic realism, I’m not trying to argue that there shouldn’t be any in place for academic writing. It is necessary for effective communication. It is tricky to find a balance between implementing a hierarchy of value in language and making sure that everyone can articulate their thoughts and gain the access to language that brings them satisfaction. With classes such as this one, I think it’s great news that steps are being taken here at JMU to break the cycle and language materiality is starting to be given a chance.