Post-structuralism, particularly deconstructionist
theory, has contributed much to interpretation studies focusing on the
social contexts of performance.[1] By calling into question assumptions
about the process of interpretation and the nature of texts, such theories
have allowed expanded definitions of performance and text and considerations
of the sociopolitical aspects of performed texts, performance conventions,
and performance contexts.[2]
On the other hand, deconstructionist theory has
very little to offer interpretation studies focusing on the aesthetic experience
of performed literature and on the act of performing individual literary
texts. Jill Taft-Kaufman cautions:
We, who distinguish ourselves by our involvement
with the oral performance of
individual texts, must ask ourselves whether
critical theory which vivisects the
practices that underlie our emotional involvement
with and appreciation of
individual texts might not pose more problems
for the survival of our discipline
than it solves. [3]
Clearly, deconstructionist theory cannot answer all
questions nor address the interests of everyone. Recognizing this, Mary
S. Strine has encouraged a dialogue between studies about performance as
sociocultural fact and studies about performance as phenomenological, aesthetic
act.[4] Just as importantly, I would assert, critics and performers
should investigate poststructuralist theories that consider the socio-political
aspects of interpretation without the
deconstructionist's bias against individual texts.
The writings of Mikhail Bakhtin offer a useful framework
for the study of individual texts and their potentials for performance
while at the same time acknowledging the social, cultural, and political
nature of all texts, and the primacy of context to textual meaning. Indeed,
his dialogic theory, based on a perception of the inherent relationship
between ideology and utterance, addresses the sociopolitical fact of literary
performance and provides analytical tools relevant to the act of performing
literature.
In this essay, I shall apply Bakhtin's dialogic
theory in an examination of Tillie Olsen's novel, Yonnondio: From the
Thirties.[5] Olsen's novel invites a dialogic reading on three
levels. First, as a Marxist rejoinder in a 1930s political dialogue,
Yonnondio demonstrates Bakhtin's perceptions of language and literature
as dynamic, ideology infused processes. Second, as an unfinished novel
published nearly thirty years after its writing, the book has both engendered
a dialogue between two decades and called into question formalist aesthetic
theories.[6] Third, the texture of voices in Olsen's novel
provides rich examples illustrative of Bakhtin's concepts of heteroglossia
and polyphony. In the interests of illustrating most directly the
value of Bakhtin's theory to performance of literature, this essay will
focus on the third area. Specifically, I shall address the complexity
of the novel's narrative voice and the layers of voices and languages embedded
within that voice.
According to Bakhtin, all speech utterances are
heteroglot and polyphonic in that they partake of different-languages"
and resonate with "many-voices." Heteroglossia (other-languagedness)
and polyphony (many-voicedness) are the base conditions "governing the
operation of meaning in any utterance."[7] By "other-languagedness,"
Bakhtin does not mean only national languages (though a national language
determines, in part, the meaning of any utterance). More generally,
heteroglossia refers to the ideologies inherent in the various languages
to which we all lay claim as social beings and by which we are constituted
as individuals: the language and the inherent ideologies of our profession,
the language and inherent ideologies of our age group, of the decade, of
our social class, geographical region, family, circle of friends, etc.[8]
Polyphony refers not literally to a number of voices,
but to the collective quality of an individual utterance; that is, the
capacity of my utterance to embody someone else's utterance even while
it is mine, which thereby creates a dialogic relationship between two voices.
For example, I quote or report someone's speech and thereby "dialogue"
with his/her opinion; I appropriate the speech pattern of an admired person
and associate myself with that person's linguistic-ideologic community;
or I mock someone and dissociate myself from him or her. These are
obvious examples, but Bakhtin further maintains that polyphony is inherent
in all words or forms: "Each word tastes of the context and contexts in
which it has lived its socially charged life; all words and forms are populated
by intentions." [9]
For Bakhtin, this layering of voices within one
voice is nowhere more obvious than in the novel. The novel's epic
mode permits the writer to embed voices within voices (e.g., character
speech within narrator speech, narrator speech within authorial speech,
etc.), and to orchestrate a dialogue among them. In Yonnondio,
for example, the layering of character speech within narrative discourse
allows Olsen to present a rich diversity of human voices and ideologies
on one hand, and on the other, to collect those diverse, particularized
voices and ideologies into a resounding social protest against an alien
capitalist society.
The dialogic nature of the novel is not limited
to the distinction between narrator speech and character speech, however.
In Yonnondio, at least three levels of voices comprise the novel's
internal discourse. These include: 1) the stratification of the narrator's
voice into two distinct voices, 2) undramatized voices and linguistic-ideological
communities embedded in the narrative voice, and 3) voices of characters,
including undramatized voices and communities embedded in character discourse.
In the remainder of this essay, I shall explain and illustrate these levels
and indicate some performance implications for each.[10]
The narrator of Yonnondio, cast as a third-person
observer, chronicles the lives of Jim and Anna Holbrook and their children
as they battle the forces of economic depression. From the novel's
opening in a Wyoming mining town, to the interlude of tenant farming in
Dakota, to the conclusion in the slums of Omaha (where Jim finds work first
in thesewers, and later in a packing plant), the narrator shows us a depression-era
family whose love and tenderness for one another are constantly threatened
by an uncaring capitalist society. The narrator does not limit herself
to observation, however. In numerous passages she breaks out of the
literary convention and engages in direct address to the reader or to a
character. Such inconsistency of posture is not simply a shift in
narrative point of view, but rather a stratification of one voice into
two voices, specifically in this case, an oral voice embedded within the
literary voice.
Throughout the novel, the narrative voice moves
between two types of discourse -- literary discourse and oral discourse
(skaz).[11] The primary distinction between these two orientations
is precisely the degree of oral characteristics (oral syntax, oral intonation,
etc.), embodied in the speech. In its literary orientation, the narrative
voice tends toward an objective style of speech -- relating the action
as something happening to someone else, to the characters. As readers,
we can detect a separation between the situation of the voice telling the
tale and the situation of voices within the tale. The oral orientation
collapses this separation. The narrator becomes not only the telling voice
but also a voice coming from within the tale, a voice that exists on a
level between the literary voice and character voices, which shares with
the characters qualities of oral speech.
At times, the oral voice will emerge from within
a literary passage, as it does in the sequence predicting the fate of the
young miner Andy Kvaternick:
Andy Kvaternick stumbles through the night. The late September wind fills the night with lost and crying voices and drowns all but the largest stars. Chop, chop goes the black sea of his mind. How wild and stormy inside, how the ship-wrecked thoughts plunge and whirl. Andy lifts his face to the stars and breathes frantic, like an almost drowned man.In this sequence, the use of present tense in the literary narrative of the first two sentences prefaces the emergence of the oral voice in the third sentence. Characterized first by oral syntax, and later by direct address to the character, this second voice belongs neither to Andy Kvaternick nor to a narrator who stands outside of the story. Instead, it seems to originate from within the story. In addition to the oral characteristics of syntax and direct address, the voice also contains oral intonations. The final sentence, "breathe and breathe," repeated frequently as the passage continues, has an ironically soothing, lulling quality that is distinctively oral in its reminiscence of the soothing sounds one makes to comfort a child. Thus, in its orientation toward oral skaz, the voice partakes of both narrative and character speech.
But it is useless, Andy. The coal dust lies too far inside; it will lie there forever, like a hand squeezing your heart, choking at your throat. The bowels of earth have claimed you.
Breathe and breathe, (pp. 6-7)
“Perhaps it frightens you as you walk by, the travail of the trees against the dark crouched house, the weak tipsy light in the window, the man sitting on the porch, menacing weariness riding his flesh like despair. And you hurry along, afraid of the black forsaken streets, the crooked streets, and look no more.” (pp. 103-104)In this example, the direct acknowledgment of the addressee's presence as an active participant in the narrative discourse gives the narration an oral quality that tends to decompose the boundaries between art and life, between oratory and literary narration.
In addition to the shifting orientation between literary discourse and
skaz, the narrative voice also contains embedded discourse of unobjectified
or undramatized voices. As Bakhtin notes, speaking persons in a novel
need not necessarily be incarnated in characters.[13]
While undramatized voices populate the narrator's
discourse throughout the novel, nowhere are they more multiple and varied
than in the sequence describing the fate of Jim Tracy -- the young individualist
who quits his job in the sewers, believing that he can find a better job.
The passage begins with quasi-direct discourse. Cast in Jim Holbrook's
speech style, the speech reflects his resentment and envy in witnessing
Tracy's act: "All right for Tracy to talk, all right, he didn't have
a wife and kids hangin round his neck like an anchor" (pp. 88-89).
Soon, however, the
narrator casts off the embedded speech of Jim Holbrook, and continues
in her own oral style:
And Tracy was young, just twenty, still wet behind the ears, and the old blinders were on him soContinuing to "carnivalize" through parody and distortion the platitudes of capitalist-individualism, the ensuing lines incorporate, without demarcation, a variety of voices, speech acts, and genres. For example, included in the passage are Jim Tracy's individualistic protests: "I'm a man, and I'm not takin crap offn anybody"; the voices of the unemployed, and of companies that are not hiring: "nojobnojobnothingdoingtoday"; period songs: "buddy... can you
he couldn't really see what was around and he believed the bull about freedomofopportunity and
a chancetorise and ifyoureallywanttoworkyoucanalwaysfindajob and rugged individualism and
something about a pursuit of happiness. (p. 89)
And there's nothing to say, Jim Tracy, I'm sorry, Jim Tracy, sorry as hell we weren't stronger andTaken as a whole, the passage describing the fate of Jim Tracy is a study in miniature of the novel's entire utterance. It encompasses the diversifying and unifying strategies of the narrator's voice in one forceful stroke, garnering the myriad voices of a verbal-ideological world into a choral refutation of capitalist individualism.
could get to you in time and show you that kind of individual revolt was no good, kid, no good at
all, you had to bide your time and take it till there were enough of you to fight it all together on
the job, and bide your time, and take it, till the day millions of fists clamped in yours, and you
could wipe out the whole thing, the whole goddamn thing, and a human could be a human for the
first time on earth, (pp. 91-92)
Examples of heteroglossia and polyphony, so clearly evident in Yonnondio's
narrator discourse, are no less abundant at the level of character discourse.
While no character voice in Yonnondio attains the collective ideological
structure of the narrator's voice, the individual voices are rich with
embedded sociolinguistic communities, emerging ideologies, and the legacy
of human speech diversity.
The novel's opening dialogue between Anna and Jim
Holbrook establishes these characters' membership in several sociolinguistic
communities:
"What'll ya have? Coffee and eggs? There aint no bacon."The passage begins with an abbreviated form of communication identifying the characters as members of the same family unit who share knowledge and can conduct unspoken dialogue. For example, Anna does not need to explain why there is no bacon for breakfast, nor to remind Jim why there is no bacon. He knows there is no money with which to buy it; and if Anna is reproaching him in that regard, he both comprehends and evades the reproach.
"Dont bother with anything. Havent time. I gotta stop by Kvaternicks and get the kid. He's
starting work today."
"What're they going to give him?"
"Little of everything at first, I guess, trap, throw switches. Maybe timberin."
"Well, he'll be starting one punch ahead of the old man. Chris began as a breaker boy." (pp. 1-2)
She keeps talking about the old country, the fields, and what they thought it would be like here -- all buried in da bowels of earth, she finishes.... And she talks about the coal. Says it oughta be red, and let people see how they get it with blood.Finally, in his fear of the implicit ideology in Anna's speech which, if embraced, could cost him his job -- and in his failure to dissociate himself and Anna from the Kvaternicks, Jim ends the dialogue by dissociating himself from Anna: '"Quit your woman's blabbin,' said Jim Holbrook, irritated suddenly. 'I'm going now'" (pp. 2-3). In this way, the characters' speeches embody diverse languages, ideologies, and voices within individual utterances.
"Fair, fair, with golden hair," her mother sang.In this instance, the introduction of the actual song lyrics develops the communal-voice quality on yet another level. The words of the narrator, the embedded voice of the character, and the further embedded voice of the song-writer blend into a chorus of three voices. Moreover, if the reader knows the song, its lyrics evoke its melody; and, in our imaginative constitution of the song, we lend our own vocal music to the passage, thus, contributing further to its polyphonic quality.
"Under the willow she's weeping." Mazie felt the strange happiness in her mother's body, happiness that had nought to do with them, with her, happiness and farness and selfness.
"Fair, fair, with golden hair, under the willow she's sleeping."
The fingers stroked, spun a web, cocooned Mazie into happiness and intactness and selfness. Soft wove the bliss round hurt and fear and want and shame -- the old worn fragile bliss, a new frail selfness bliss, healing, transforming. Up from the grasses, from the earth, from the broad tree trunk at their back, latent life streamed and seeded. The air and self shone boundless. (p. 146)
Because of its emphasis on voices, Bakhtin's dialogic theory of literature
presents particularly rich potential for performance studies of literary
texts; and, conversely, performance offers an effective and engaging medium
through which to dialogue with a text. On one hand, the adaptor,
director, or performer of narrative literature can utilize Bakhtin's method
of analyzing embedded voices to guide performance choices regarding line
assignments, vocal orchestration, production concepts, and subtextual levels
of characterization. On the other hand, established techniques for
performing embedded voices including bifurcation of narrators and characters,
multiple casting, choral speech, and the use of electronic media can not
only demonstrate polyphony and heteroglossia, but can also serve as tools
for uncovering new insights into the various levels of voices that populate
a novel.[15]
Such a dialogic exchange between performance and
text is only one kind of exchange that Bakhtin's theory affords,[16]
but it is one that I believe Bakhtin would readily endorse. He states:
The work and the world represented in it enter the real world and enrich it, and the real world enters the work and its world as part of the process of creation, as well as part of its subsequent life, in a constant renewing of the work through the creative perception of listeners and readers."[17]
NOTES
1 - For a general overview of social context studies, see Kristin M. Langellier, "From Text to Social Context," Literature in Performance, 6 (April 1986), 60-70.
2 -The relationship between post-structuralism and performance is explored in essays by Eric E. Peterson, John Hollwitz, Kay Ellen Capo, Jacqueline Taylor, Carol Simpson Stern, Kristin M. Langellier, Kristina Minister, Jill Taft-Kaufman, and Stanley Deetz in "Symposium: Post-Structuralism and Performance," ed. Mary S. Strine, Literature in Performance, 4 (November 1983), 21-64.
3 -Taft-Kaufman, "Deconstructing the Text: Performance Implications," Literature in Performance, 4 (November 1983), 58. For a similar viewpoint, see Stern, "Deconstruction and the Phenomenological Alternative," Literature in Performance, 4 (November 1983), 41-44.
4 -Strine, "Between Meaning and Representation: Dialogic Aspects of Interpretation Scholarship," Renewal & Revision; The Future of Interpretation, ed. Ted Colson (Denton, Texas: NB Omega Publications, 1986), 69-91. (See also Strine's Forum essay in this issue of Literature in Performance.)
5 - Tillie Olsen, Yonnondio: From the Thirties, (New York: Delacorte Press/Seymour Lawrence, 1974). Subsequent references appear in text.
6 - For various responses to Olsen's novel, see, for example, Bell Gale Chevigny, rev. of Yonnondio, The Village Voice, (May 23, 1974), 38-39; Sally Cunneen, "Tillie Olsen: Storyteller of Working America," The Christian Century, (May 21, 1980), 570-73; Erika Duncan, "Coming of Age in the Thirties: A Portrait of Tillie Olsen," Book Forum, 4, 2 (1982), 207-22; Deborah Rosenfelt, "From the Thirties: Tillie Olsen and the Radical Tradition," Feminist Studies, 7 (Fall 1981), 371-406.
7 - Michael Holquist, editor's glossary, in M.M. Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays, ed. Michael Holquist, trans. Caryl Emerson and Michael Holquist. (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981), p. 428.
8 - For Bakhtin, an individual's inner life, or consciousness is directly
dependent on one's social self. As he notes, "ideological differentiation,
the growth of consciousness, is in direct proportion to the firmness
and reliability of the social orientation. The stronger, the more organized,
the more differentiated the collective in which the individual orients
himself, the more vivid and complex his inner world will be." See, V. N.
Volosinov/Bakhtin, Marxism and the
Philosophy of Language, trans. Ladislav Matejka and I.R. Titunik,
(New York: Seminar Press, 1973), p. 88. As Volosinov's authorship
is disputed, and there is growing evidence that Bakhtin wrote the book,
I attribute the statement to Bakhtin.
9 - Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, p. 293.
10 - These levels are not as mutually-exclusive as they might be in a formalist, dramatic ,or another type of rhetorical analysis; they are used here primarily to orient the reader and to provide a general format for this discussion. While it is possible to situate an utterance in a linguistic-ideological framework or a "character zone," to insist on a strict demarcation among, say, authorial voice, narrator voice, and character voices risks ignoring the novel's dominant characteristic of the overlap or "dialogue" among these voices a dialogue wherein "voices" are defined not only by speech styles but by the latent experiential-ideological perceptions that they express. Thus. for example, a speech by a narrator that expresses a character's inner experience belongs both to the category of narrator voice and the category of character voices. See Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, pp. 301-331.
11 - In his discussion of discourse in Dostoevsky's works, Bakhtin differentiates between narration by a narrator (skaz), and first-person narration (Ich-Erzahlung). Olsen's oral narrator partakes of both types of discourse. Because it is the oral quality of speech (skaz in the strictest sense of the term) that best distinguishes this narrative orientation, I shall refer to this orientation as "oral narration" or "skaz." See Bakhtin, Problems in Dostoevsky's Poetics, ed. and trans. Caryl Emerson, (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984), p. 190.
12 - Bakhtin, Problems in Dostoevsky's Poetics, p. 192.
13 - Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, p. 335.
14 - At an authorial level, Olsen's decision to omit the apostrophe in the contractions contained in the dialogue serves both to represent the dialect and to suggest that the sub-standard speech is politically motivated (i.e., that the omission indicates a conscious rejection of so-called "standards" of speech).
15 - Numerous studies in interpretation suggest techniques for performing voices in narrative literature. See especially, Robert Breen, Chamber Theatre, (Evanston, Illinois: Wm. Caxton Ltd.), 1978, 1986; and Judith C. Espinola, "The Nature, Function, and Performance of Indirect Discourse in Prose Fiction," Speech Monographs, 41 (August 1974), 193-204. At another level of dialogue, a comparison of my 1983 production record essay with this essay reinforces the affinity between performance theories and Bakhtin's theory. While I was not aware of Bakhtin's work at the time that I adapted and directed the production of Yonnondio (nor when I wrote the production record essay), my decision to assign the narration to a controlling narrator and a narrative chorus (based on an appreciation of the narrative point of view and studies of the Greek dramatic chorus), reflects a shared interest in embedded voices that Bakhtin's theory addresses in specific relation to the novel. Similarly, the kinds of insights into Olsen's narrative speech styles that arose in the process of choreographing that production would seem as appropriate to this type of dialogic analysis as to that dialogic activity. See Park-Fuller and Tillie Olsen, "Understanding What We Know: Yonnondio: From the Thirties," Literature in Performance 4 (November 1983), 65-74.
16 - For examples of performance studies that apply Bakhtin's theory
in various ways, see Strine (note #4 above); see also, Dwight Conquergood,
'"A Sense of the Other': Interpretation and Ethnographic Research," Proceedings
of the Southwest Conference on Oral Traditions, ed. Isabel Crouch (Las
Cruces, New Mexico: New Mexico State Univ.), pp. 148-155: Conquergood,
"Performance and Dialogical Understanding: In Quest of the Other," Communication
and
Performance, ed. Janet Larsen Palmer (Tempe, Arizona: Arizona
State Univ., 1986). pp. 30-37; and Conquergood, "Between Experience and
Meaning: Performance as a Paradigm for Meaningful Action," Renewal and
Revision: The Future of Interpretation, pp. 26-59 (note #4 above).
Additional studies incorporating a dialogic approach include two articles
in The Carolinas Speech Communication Annual, 2 (1986): Beverly
Whitaker Long, "Where is the (Other) Voice Coming From? Dialogic Prompting
for Rehearsing the Performance of Lyric Poetry," 8-14; and John M. Allison,
Jr., "The Rehearsal Process: A Brief Descriptive Analysis," 24-30.
17 - Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, p. 254.