When we starting studying some of the structuralism theorists, I started looking for the hidden overarching structure behind things in my everyday life in order to find something about which to blog during the month of February. When I looked for structures in literary texts I was reading for other classes, the logic behind the theory seemed pretty straightforward. It was enlightening to see how writer where influenced by ideological structures or social structures. The editors of our text describe structural as a theory that see “culture, like language, [as] a system characterized by an internal order of interconnected parts that obey certain rules of operation,” and, once I began to notice the internal order of things I could recognize the rules of operation. This was supposed to inform my own actions, and, hopefully, help me make more intellectual choices. However, when I started looking for structures of internal order, I started feeling like a conspiracy theorist and, frankly, a little paranoid.
Structuralism resembles conspiracy theories, because it takes something unexplained gives it a comprehensive and innate logic—a logic that assumes there is an ‘interested party’ who is manipulating the situation (ie the facts, the plot, the language, etc) to some degree in order to reach a desired conclusion (that is, the ‘meaning’ of the novel). Professor Suh warned us that theory would change the way we looked at the world; similarly, conspiracy theories color perceptions. Structuralism as a theory informed the way I looked at everything I did, but, as enlightening as that is, life took a very marginalized form. When my sister told me her dream, I was repulsed by the Freudian implications that arose in my theory-driven mind, my favorite Poe short story took an irritatingly nihilistic turn, and capitalism, in the form of lunch at a fast food restaurant, became the source of all evil that killed my rags to riches dream. I was bitten by the theory bug, and, like a lunatic conspiracy theorist, I was a little nutty about seeing only the abstract in every mundane daily interaction.
A scene from a television show, The Pretender, allows us to take a closer look at the delusions of a conspiracy theorist. Jarod, the titular star of the show (and not the conspiracy theorist), has the intelligence and empathy to assume the careers and roles of any person in society. He assumes the role of a surgeon after reading medical texts for a short period of time and becomes probably the best doctor in the hospital. His value was not just in picking up skills merely from books, but in recreating real-life situations because he understood how situations made people feel. He supposedly solved a test-pilot accident by mentally recreating the mindset of the pilot as the plane was crashing. This ability makes him a “pretender,” someone who can pretend to be someone else. A secret organization called the Center attempts to use Jarod’s gifts before he escapes and becomes a vigilante for justice.
During one of his assumed jobs, Jarod encounters a crazy old man, who believes that aliens try to mind read people through television. The man clearly can’t tell that Jarod is part of a real conspiracy, but he is paranoid about everyday objects like television. It turns out that this innocuous old man was a part of the Manhattan Project, and he feels guilty about the bombing of Hiroshima. So, he tries to expose the truth, any truth, that he fears is being covered up in order to commit atrocities. Jarod identifies with him, and, eventually, tells him to check out the Center and start exposing its activities. The old man misses one level of cover-up—Jarod’s work at the Center—because he is so fixated on a crazy theory.
This introduces the idea of multiplicity that Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari discuss in their breathtakingly beautiful work, A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Structuralism, as a theory, doesn’t exclude the notion of having other structures that help explain any one text or subject, but Deleuze and Guattari go even farther in saying that each theory in itself is what they call an assemblage. Additionally, they recognize that such structures aren’t actually there, but are helpful in interpreting works. The perception of a real structure undermines structuralists’ analysis. Like the old man failed to recognize the subversion of a normal roles within his conspiracy structural perception of the world (normal humans and aliens attempting to harm us), he didn’t realize that Jarod was masquerading as a normal human, a test-pilot, when he is really linked to a secret organization that had its own self-interested if not malignant intentions in mind.
Deleuze and Guattari’s introduction to post-structuralism replaces the 'conspiracy theory' theory with a networking-style theory. They use the analogy of rhizomes, but it reminds me of something another English course called quotationalism. Literature is known for quoting other literary works. When an allusion is made, it signifies the entire of the other text merely by referencing it. Quotationalism allows writers, or television shows, take short-cuts or strengthen their arguments by evoking supplementary texts and recognizing the multiplicity within their original concept. While multiple allusions in literature make the work obtuse, television easily transmits thousands of visual analogies and verbal allusions in every show. Thus, shows like The Highlander gets referenced in Saturday Night Live skits about the Jonas Brothers and connect three target audiences—40-somethings, college students, fourteen year old girls—in a way that is funny but also unconsciously acknowledges the unreliable nature of framing things with structures.
If any of these audiences didn’t understand the references, the SNL jokes wouldn’t hit home, but the obscure references would still be ridiculous and therefore funny. Likewise, when we acknowledge the illusonary nature of theories, we can frame a situation in a way that makes it easier to understand without becoming paranoidly attached to that particular interpretation. Theory is a tool, and not all theories are applicable to every instance. Freud doesn't need to define all dreams, and Lacan doesn't have to have the last word on Poe. However, somewhere in the back of my mind, Freud and Lacan will be there. After all, what's a good conspiracy without that lurking doubt?
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