#geertz

[monica-writing]

Why write?

What can political theatre do for your writing?

Anthropologist Clifford Geertz is renowned for writing on the poetics of power, especially on the use of ritual and symbol in political spectacle. In Negara, The Theatre State in 19th Century Bali, Geertz constructs an ethnographic account using historical descriptions of theatrical sacrifice. He includes an archival description of three sacrificed concubines, kept by a deceased Rajah. As part…

[unthinkinganimals]

Cults and Culture

A short talk I gave a while back on the relationship between cults and culture:

Although the title of this talk is “Cults and Culture,” I will not so much be talking about cults, or really culture for that matter, at least as the terms are commonly understood, if they are understood at all. That is to say, I won’t be talking about the People’s Temple and Jonestown or the Branch Davidians and Waco, or about Heaven’s Gate and the proverbial Kool-Aid, or about Scientology or any other new religious movements, as they’re often referred to these days. That said, I would like to talk about cults in a wider sense, in a sense that has more to do with our more or less modern concept of religion than it does with cults per se (even if, as the debate as to whether it is appropriate to refer to new religious movements as cults demonstrates, it is often difficult to distinguish between a cult and a religion. Indeed, the move to do away with the term “cult” in favor of the term “new religious movements” or NRM’s, may be be regarded as a tacit admission, on the part of scholars of religion, that the old adage that, “a religion = cult + time, is mostly true). In any case, the cults my title refers to has more to do with the Latin cultus—a noun which means “worship, act of worship, form of worship, religious observance,” but also, in its wider sense, “cultivation, tilling, training or education, personal care and maintenance, style of dress or ornament, adornment, stylistic elegance, mode of standard of living, state of being refined, devotion, loyalty, respect;”⁠1 although, these meanings are most often reserved for the derivative of cultus, cultura, from which the modern concept of culture most proximally derives. Both words, cultus and cultura derive from the Latin verb colere, which means—as Raymond Williams points out—to “inhabit, cultivate, protect, honour with worship,” among other things (Williams, Keywords 49). Looking at the various different and differing meanings of colere and its related terms, it is easy to see how this term could be related to culture. But the question I want to entertain today is, “how much cult or cultus (or religion) still resides in our culture or in our concept of culture”? 

“In the contemporary use of the terms,” writes theorist of religion, Tomoko Masuzawa, “the relation between “culture” and “religion” appears to be multiple, complex and contradictory to some extent” (Masuzawa, “Culture” in Critical Terms for Religious Studies, 70). Today, it has become perhaps most common to conceive of the relationship between religion and culture as one of a part to a whole, where religion represents just one of culture’s many possible forms as— for example—Ernst Cassirer suggested. Myth, religion, language, art, science: taken together, these five cultural or symbolic forms—as Cassirer refers to them, since we make sense of the world through them—make up the whole of culture. For Cassirer, these forms are also “modes of expression,” through which we disclose who we are, and who we are is, quite simply, our culture. Our culture is what differentiates us from Nature. In this Cassirer is not far from the eminent anthropologist, Clifford Geertz, who also argued that the essence of humanity is not to be found in any one thing that we do or make, but in the fact that we all have culture (although there are indeed many important differences between Geertz and Cassirer). 

Of course, Cassirer was not the first philosopher to think of culture in this way, that is as, as a composite of various cultural or symbolic forms. This honor probably goes to Giambattista Vico, who, in his major work, the New Science from 1725, sought to determine what kind of “science” might be appropriate to that being which, it would appear, does not belong to Nature, at least not entirely. Vico begins his New Science by attempting to secure “universal and eternal principles,” upon which to construct this science—a “science” which, today, we might rather term a history. He comes up with three things which, he claims, all peoples have in common: religion, marriage, and burial. From these three things, Vico maintains, it should be possible to construct a history of what he variously calls the world of nations or the civil world. Yet, it is important to note that this history does not begin with religion, marriage, and burial, even if it takes these three things as its starting point; rather, this history begins at the moment that human beings begin to think humanly, which, for Vico, means to think abstractly. Although religion first appears in Vico’s philosophy as a form of culture among others, it is religion—in this case natural religion—which founds the civil world insofar as, by its means, we break free of the sensible, natural world and learn to tame our sensible, animal natures. “In their monstrous savagery and unbridled bestial freedom,” writes Vico, “there was no means to tame the former or bridle the latter but the frightful thought of some divinity, the fear of whom [...] is the only powerful means of reducing to duty a liberty gone wild” (Vico, New Science, I.¶338). Vico hypothesizes that human beings first stumbled upon this thought when “they had fallen into despair of all the succors of nature and desire[d] something superior to save them” (Vico, New Science, I.¶338). 

Vico’s account may remind us of another philosopher who, while not normally included in anthologies devoted to the philosophy of culture, nonetheless stands out as one of the great cultural critics in the history of philosophy: namely, Nietzsche. In Nietzsche’s Genealogy, religion too has a central role to play in civilizing the human being. At the beginning, the human being is an animal which, like all other animals, suffers without reason. But eventually, she comes up with the question, “Why do I suffer?,” and turns to the ascetic priest for answers. She learns from the ascetic priest how to tame herself, how to reign herself in, but in the process she becomes what Nietzsche calls the sickliest animal. For Nietzsche, civilization is the opposite of culture; culture promotes human flourishing, civilization its decline. 

In some cases, we tend to equate religion and culture, especially when we speak of societies, whose cultures were, or are, so completely religious that it is impossible to tell where religion ends and culture begins. Early anthropologists and sociologists, such as Durkheim and Mauss, argued that, as societies become more civilized, religion plays less and less a role in those societies. In so-called “primitive” societies, religion determines almost every aspect of culture. In so-called “modern” societies, religion continues to play a decisive role in culture, but the role that it plays becomes more difficult to determine, which is to say, that it becomes less determinate, more fluid—paradoxically, like all fluids, it gets into almost everything. “In the quintessentially “modern” societies of Western Europe and North America,” Masuzawa writes, “culture is envisaged as a vehicle, at its best, for the most profound and essential thoughts and attitudes underlying religion” (Masuzawa, 71). When Max Weber claims that “we” owe “our” work ethic to John Calvin, or Hegel claims that “we” owe “our” very notion of who we, as moderns, to Luther, or when a certain, German, politician claims that crosses are not religious symbols, but cultural ones, culture becomes a vehicle for religion. The assumption, underlying positions such as these, is that, again as Masuzawa writes, “in a society such as “ours,” something like the general essence of religion, which is perforce less tangible and more universal than any particular religion (and is nowadays referred to as spirituality), used to be embodied in religious institutions but now has been partially liberated from those traditional institutional confinements and can find more personal, “freer” expressions through a variety of cultural venues. This deinstitutionalization takes place, supposedly, as society becomes “modernized” and ���secular” (Masuzawa, 71). In a paradoxical fashion, as we have become more secular, we have become more religious or, at least, spiritual. Or at least, this is the thought that I’d like to leave you with today. 

1 "cult, n.". OED Online. December 2019. Oxford University Press. https://www-oed- com.ezproxy.bu.edu/view/Entry/45709?rskey=bwfSL6&result=1&isAdvanced=false (accessed January 12, 2020). 

[seoafin]

one reason (other than people comparing taro to suguru lmao) is that the sakamoto days fans are scared that the jjk fanbase will migrate to sakamoto days when the anime comes out and make the fandom worse. a lot of them want to gatekeep but i fear that it will happen regardless because shonen fans will move to whichever shonen anime becomes popular. lol animetwt is so interesting to observe (deragatoy)

I'm going to run an anthropological study on anime twt

[deadpoetscrusade]

reading geertz’s notes on the Balinese cockfight means cringing several times over as this man uses that word in such a giddy manner you’d think he was pubescent middle school boy and not a 50 year old anthropologist at the time he wrote it.

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Sometimes art can be separated from the creator sometimes it can't no there is no coherent division it depends on the vibes alone

[poesiecritique]

Les nomades du fer, Eleanor Arnason, Argyll, 2023 (1991), trad. Patrick Dechesne

C'est une longue fresque, une longue épopée, 568p. ou 586p, traduit de l'anglais et du temps, première publication en 1991, première traduction en français par Patrick Dechesne publiée en 2023, par ou pour ou depuis les éditions Argyll, qui bossent, on peut pas dire, depuis trois ans, ça bosse.

Au dos, une petite phrase de Jo Walton, connaissez-vous Jo Walton ?, c'est une autre autrice de science-fiction, je n'ai pas tout lu, mais j'aime beaucoup, j'ai commencé par Mes vrais enfants, un trouble de la cognition, elle dit "confuse", un trouble venant à un âge certain, la question de l'âge est si peu traitée dans les récits de science-fiction, ça n'est pas tout à fait vrai, mais c'est plus généralement pour dépasser le temps, le dompter, en sortir vainqueureuse. Bref, Jo Walton adoube Arnason, qui est aussi comparée à Ursula Le Guin.

Ursula Le Guin, je l'ai déjà écrit ailleurs, est un vieux compagnonnage. Ca date depuis plus de 20 ans, ce n'est pas dans l'effervescence actuelle que Le Guin, tout à côté de Mead, sont proches et fantomatiques. Je l'ai déjà dit aussi, ce qui m'intéresse tant chez Le Guin c'est la visée anthropologique de son œuvre. Elle invente des mondes aux règles sociales, aux philosophies, aux langages, aux religions différentes. Il n'est pas question de transposer les problèmes actuels dans un autre décor. C'est autre chose.

C'est aussi ce que fait Eleanor Arnason. Dans Les nomades du Fer, il y a plusieurs personnages principaux : Nia, une habitante d'une planète dont le nom est omis, et qui appartient au clan du Fer, duquel elle a été chassé ; il y a Li-sa, une ethnographe qui se place résolument du côté de l'ethnographie : elle arrive d'un autre monde ; comme Derek, un autre ethnographe (il y a en beaucoup d'autres, mais seul.e ces deux là parviennent à rester) ; il y a l'esprit de la cascade, un homme qui un oracle. Les chemins de ces quatre là vont se nouer, se tresser, d'abord les deux femmes, puis Derek, puis l'oracle. Une tresse à quatre brins pour aller vers le nord, vers le clan de Nia, un clan qui l'a chassée parce qu'elle était trop étrange.

Nia a vécu une histoire, une histoire d'amour, une histoire d'amour avec un homme et a eu deux enfants. C'est le fait étranger pour lequel Nia est chassée. Sur cette terre, les clans sont des clans de femmes, où sont aussi les enfants et les vieillard.es. Mais les hommes valides vivent seuls, dans les montagnes, ailleurs, peu importe, loin. L'amour n'est pas l'amour romantique, et ce sentiment, dans ce monde, dans ce livre n'est jamais le ressort dramatique qui permet que l'intrigue avance. Plus, il n'est jamais là. Cet amour qui chez nous toujours noue quelque chose n'existe pas. Ni plus, ni moins. Sauf pour Nia, et Eunshi. Je ne raconterai pas la suite de leur aventure, ce n'est pas la peine ici. C'est une histoire dans l'histoire, mais une petite histoire, finalement dans la grande épopée que ces deux extra-terrestres ethnographes, nous, et les deux habitant.es de la planète vivent.

Cette épopée, c'est le récit de l'arrivée de ces ethnographes, qui essaient de s'intégrer. Li-sa rencontre Nia, qui tête de mule, décide de partir du clan dans lequel elle habite, où elle a trouvé refuge, le clan du cuivre. Li-sa la suit. Puis Nia l'accompagne pour que Li-sa puisse rejoindre le lieu d'atterrissage de la fusée du Kollontaï (au passage, on apprécie le choix de ce nom de baptême bien féministe et bien marxiste). Puis Derek, puis l'oracle. Et plein de rencontres et d'aventures, qui permettent de saisir les enjeux civilisationnels, depuis un point de vue relativement ethnographique (mais plus que moins). Je ne veux pas non plus raconter cela, qui fait le sel du livre.

Dans cette approche ethnographique, l'attention ethnoliguistique m'a particulièrement touchée et, plus que la multiplicité des langues articulée à une langue commune, dite langue des cadeaux, partagée par tous les clans (qui jamais, ces clans, ne se font la guerre, elles ne connaissent pas, tout en connaissant les armes, et donner la mort), m'a particulièrement touchée l'attention aux gestes. Et encore, ce sont moins des gestes qui sont décrits que l'intention des gestes, des réponses. A tel point que, retrouvant les siens, Li-sa continue à employer ces gestes, qui font partie intégrante des langages de cette terre. Ces gestes permettent de dire les états d'âme, les affects. Vers la fin du livre, un geste humain du même genre est fait. Peut-être un couçi-couça de la main. Quelque chose de dérisoire, mais qui montre la potentialité de ce que pourrait être que de parler avec les mains. Cette approche me fait penser à quelque chose que Eleanor Arnason connaissait peut-être, Les rites d'interaction de Goffman. Eleanor a fait des études d'art vers Philadephie, Goffman c'est plutôt Chicago et la sociologie, quel passage de lui vers elle ?, je ne sais pas. Néanmoins pour Goffman, "le rite ne traduit pas la représentation religieuse de la société sous forme pratique, mais la représentation apparaît dans le cours d’une activité rituelle qui ne vise d’abord d’autre fin qu’elle-même." (Keck, 2004, https://philolarge.hypotheses.org/files/2017/09/01-12-2004_keck_Goffman.pdf) Et je considère, sans démontrer pourquoi, que le langage peut être considéré comme un rite, sans cesse renouvelé surtout s'il s'agit comme ici de dire l'affect, et plus précisément l'affect comme réaction à l'action que l'altérité a proposé. D'autant que ces gestes qui ponctuent s'accordent avec des phrases d'une grande simplicité qui permettent au présent, alors que tout est au passé - Eleanor Arnason écrit en 1991 ou avant, le présent direct, dans la sf, ça n'existe pas, je crois.

Une dernière dimension que je trouve intéressante, et peut être parce que je n'en suis pas spécialiste, c'est la réflexion très critique de l'approche marxiste de l'économie qui en dit tout en même temps ses potentialités. Le post-colonialisme est au cœur de cette réflexion. Cette dimension retend la dernière partie du voyage en laissant dans les mains de la lectrice une situation insatisfaisante, qui m'a plongée dans une suite de spéculations, et m'oblige à ne pas ferme le livre comme ça, juste comme ça, après un voyage civilisationnel dans un monde singulie décrit densément, au sens de Geertz (https://journals-openedition-org.ezproxy.campus-condorcet.fr/enquete/1443) dans un monde singulier.

[yr-bed]

Sickness for* the thickness*

From "A Novelist of Privileged Youth Finds a New Subject," Katy Waldman, The New Yorker:

In his book “The Interpretation of Cultures,” from 1973, the anthropologist Clifford Geertz argued for the value of an ethnographic method he called “thick description.” Geertz believed that culture was not a “power, something to which social events, behaviors, institutions, or processes can be causally attributed” but, rather, “a context, something within which they can be intelligibly—that is, thickly—described.” The role of the ethnographer was to apply layered, intricate, densely interpretive language to everyday life. According to Geertz, the cakey brushstrokes of social science had a paradoxical effect: instead of rendering their subjects opaque, they made them more transparent. “It may be in the cultural particularities of people,” he insisted, “that some of the most instructive revelations of what it is to be generally human are to be found.”

From "Thick Translation," an essay by Kwame Anthony Appiah:

I had in mind a different notion of a literary translation; that, namely, of a translation that aims to be of use in literary teaching; and here it seems to me that such "academic" translation, translation that seeks with its annotations and its accompanying glosses to locate the text in a rich cultural and linguistic context, is eminently worth doing. I have called this "thick translation"; and I shall say in a moment why. [...] Utterances are the products of actions, which like all actions, are undertaken for reasons. Understanding the reasons characteristic of other cultures and (as an instance of this) other times is part of what our teaching is about: this is especially important because in the easy atmosphere of relativism-in the world of "that's just your opinion" that pervades the high schools that produce our students one thing that can get entirely lost is the rich differences of human life in culture.... there is a role here for literary teaching also, in challenging this easy tolerance, which amounts not to a celebration of human variousness but to a refusal to attend to how various other people really are or were. A thick description of the context of literary production, a translation that draws on and creates that sort of understanding, meets the need to challenge ourselves and our students to go further, to undertake the harder project of a genuinely informed respect for others. Until we face up to difference, we cannot see what price tolerance is demanding of us.

To stress such purposes in translation is to argue that, from the standpoint of an analysis of the current cultural situation-an analysis that is frankly political-certain purposes are productively served by the literary, the text-teaching, institutions of the academy. To offer our proverbs to American students is to invite them, by showing how sayings can be used within an oral culture to communicate in ways that are complex and subtle, to a deeper respect for the people of pre-industrial societies.

* Interest in ** Of communication

[direwolfrules]

“Something that meaningful to us cannot be left just to sit there bathed in pure significance, and so we describe, analyse, compare, judge, classify; we erect theories about creativity, form, perception, social function; we characterize art as a language, a structure, a system, an act, a symbol, a pattern of feeling”— Clifford Geertz “Art As A Cultural System”

[jonathan-parra-acero]

[protoslacker]

In finished anthropological writings, including those collected here, this fact-that what we call our data are really our own constructions of other people's constructions of what they and their compatriots are up to-is obscured because most of what we need to comprehend a particular event, ritual, custom, idea, or whatever is insinuated as background information before the thing itself is directly examined.

Clifford Geertz in Preface (PDF). The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays

The Interpretation of Cultures

[hepbaestus]

I never thought that when reading for my next Intro to Social Anthropology lecture that I'd read the sentence;

"the deep psychological identification of Balinese men with their cocks."

[quatregats]

Am attempting to apply to anthro grad school and why does anthro make me feel dumb :’)

[accuratepicuresofanthropologists]

A wonderful, high-resolution of Hildred Geertz, this one from central jersey.com

[rafaelofaria]

Há uma estória indiana — pelo menos eu a ouvi como indiana — sobre um inglês a quem contaram que o mundo repousava sobre uma plataforma apoiada nas costas de um elefante, o qual, por sua vez, apoiava-se nas costas de uma tartaruga, e que indagou (talvez ele fosse um etnógrafo; é a forma como eles se comportam), e onde se apoia a tartaruga? Em outra tartaruga. E essa tartaruga? 'Ah, '“'Sahib; depois dessa são só tartarugas até o fim.'"

(Clifford Geertz, Uma Descrição Densa)

[talisms]

Started a debate this morning with J about religion vs belief. He asked me to define religion and my brain immediately went "Religion is a system of symbols..."

[perception-1111]