Langage: fiction, histoire, temps [en]

Avant que vous vous lanciez avec courage dans le paragraphe ci-dessous, quelques mots de commentaire.

Ricœur fait remarquer la division entre œuvres ayant prétention à  la vérité et œuvres de fiction. Je crois que c’est une distinction très importante. On peut flirter avec les limites, certes, mais lorsqu’un genre tente de se faire passer pour l’autre (c’est en général dans le sens fiction -> histoire), il y a malhonnêteté. C’est entre autres ceci qui m’a fait réagir comme je l’ai fait à  l’affaire Kaycee Nicole.

Sous cette fracture entre histoire et fiction, il y a cependant une unité sous-jacente: le caractère temporel de l’expérience humaine que l’on peut raconter. Cela semblerait bien confirmer une remarque que je faisais cet été en Inde, concernant le fait que l’on raconte facilement ses mésaventures, mais plus difficilement ses moments de bonheur – justement parce que les premières s’inscrivent dans le temps et font une bonne matière à  récit.

[…]Au cours du développement des cultures dont nous sommes héritiers, l’acte de raconter n’a cessé de se ramifier dans des genres littéraires de plus en plus spécifiés. Cette fragmentation pose aux philosophes un problème majeur, en raison de la dichotomie majeure qui partage le champ narratif et qui oppose massivement, d’une part, les récits qui ont une prétention à  la vérité comparable à  celle des discours descriptifs à  l’œuvre dans les sciences — disons l’histoire et les genres littéraires connexes de la biographie et de l’autobiographie — et, d’autre part, les récits de fiction, tels que l’épopée, le drame, la nouvelle, le roman, pour ne rien dire des modes narratifs qui emploient un autre médium que le langage: le film par exemple, éventuellement la peinture et d’autres arts plastiques. A l’encontre de ce morcellement sans fin, je fais l’hypothèse qu’il existe une unité fonctionnelle entre les multiples modes et genres narratifs. Mon hypothèse de base est à  cet égard la suivante: le caractère commun de l’expérience humaine, qui est marqué, articulé, clarifié par l’acte de raconter sous toutes ses formes, c’est son caractère temporel. Tout ce qu’on raconte arrive dans le temps, prend du temps, se déroule temporellement; et ce qui se déroule dans le temps peut être raconté. Peut-être même tout processus temporel n’est-il reconnu comme tel que dans la mesure où il est racontable d’une manière ou d’une autre. […] En traitant la qualité temporelle de l’expérience comme référent commun de l’histoire et de la fiction, je constitue en problème unique fiction, histoire et temps.

Paul Ricœur, Du texte à  l’action (De l’interprétation)
[je souligne]

Langage: explication et compréhension [en]

Ne vous en faites pas si c’est un peu obscur, toute cette linguistique. La crise passera, n’ayez crainte.

Une position purement dichotomique du problème consisterait à  dire qu’il n’y a pas de rapport entre une analyse structurale du texte et une compréhension qui resterait fidèle à  la tradition herméneutique romantique. Pour les analystes, partisans d’une explication sans compréhension, le texte serait une machine au fonctionnement purement interne auquel il ne faudrait poser aucune question — réputée psychologisante —, ni en amont du côté de l’intention de l’auteur, ni en aval du côté de la réception par un auditoire, ni même dans l’épaisseur du texte du côté d’un sens, ou d’un message distinct de la forme même, c’est-à -dire de l’entrecroisement des codes mis en œuvre par le texte. Pour les herméneutes romantiques, en revanche, l’analyse structurale procéderait d’une objectivation étrangère au message du texte inséparable lui-même de l’intention de son auteur: comprendre serait établir entre l’âme du lecteur et celle de l’auteur une communication, voire une communion, semblable à  celle qui s’établit dans un dialogue face à  face.

Ainsi, d’une part, au nom de l’objectivité du texte, tout rapport subjectif et intersubjectif serait éliminé par l’explication; d’autre part, au nom de la subjectivité de l’appropriation du message toute analyse objectivante serait déclarée étrangère à  la compréhension.

Paul Ricœur, Du texte à  l’action (Expliquer et comprendre)

Pottermania [en]

My stepmother complains that she got the Harry Potter virus from me: I gave her the first book for Christmas, and she has now ploughed through the whole series – twice.

Unfortunately, it seems that she is not the only victim of the teenage wizard. I highly suspect they curse the books in the shops to force you to swallow them down straight in one go.

[link courtesy of the Incomparably Leaky Cauldron]

Books [en]

Books won’t die, I tell you. Because you can read your book in the loo, can’t you?

If people love paper, there must be a reason for it. And there is. It is highly portable (you can even read it on the loo), infinitely flexible (when was the last time you were able to scribble on an electronic document?) and embodies very high-resolution display technology, which consumes no battery power. And it doesn’t have to be booted up before you can read it.

John Naughton in The Observer, Nov. 25 2001 column

Books, Cinema [en]

My user page on SpiroLattic now contains a list of recent films I have seen, as well as another of books I have read and appreciated.

Apart from that, all is well. No news is good news.

Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noël!

Words [en]

Here are some more extracts from Bitter Chocolate.

*

‘What can it be called,’ she [Vidya Apte of Terre des Hommes] asks, ‘when they marry off young girls, except Child Sexual Abuse?’ A socially sanctioned environment which crushes the girl-child as she grows: that mother hood can be her only mission, that she therefore has to be ‘married off’ at the soonest possible legal age even if she is not mentally or emotionally ready for it. What kind of mother can such a child herself make? Most research clearly states that men do not have an in-built ‘father touch’, they have to actively work on it if they genuinely want to be decent fathers. Young men—nor older ones, for that matter—are not expected to be fathers in the complete sense anyway. But young mothers are expected to ‘mother’ from the time they are born. Most research also proves that ‘natural motherhood’ is a myth, there is no such thing as ‘mother pangs’, except for social pressure. A woman feels ‘motherly’ only from the third or fourth month of her pregnancy and this is a primal feel which continues for the infant’s food and physical protection. There is no other in-built manual on child-rearing in a young mother who is otherwise bewildered, exhausted and very alone. What kind of ‘complete’ mother can she make to another child?

*

‘From childhood women are geing primed to expect too much from marriage and motherhood and too little from anything else,’ says Prasanne Invally of Susamvaad which is developing ‘marriage workshops’ in Marathi. ‘Boy children are primed to expect everything from their wives in the marriage, and not give too much if anything at all.’ The workshops Susamvaad has conducted till now reveal young couples—about to get married—coming in with ‘they lived happily ever after’ dreams because the partner is being expected to heavily ‘adjust’.

*

Explains Dr Shalini Bharat of the Family Studies unit of the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, ‘We have a sacrosanct view of the family in our country, even if it teems with strains within. In such a structure human rights are not regarded as rights in the individual sense. There is a “we”, but if you hear an “I” the reaction is knee-jerk even if there is only negativity in this “we-ness”. Everyone is supposed to subsume their own individuality in a family, specially the women and definitely the children. Those who want to be an “I”, as is the wont of the young males, have to do it outside their family structure and home. This leads to our famous Indian characteristic: the duality-and-denial syndrome. Ghar mein kuch, bahar kuch; like being “vegetarian at home”. In such an environment it would be well-nigh impossible to get a family to admit that there is a horror like Child Sexual Abuse happening within the four walls of any house no matter how educated or rich or perhaps more so because the social image of the family has to be guarded. If we acknowledge Child Sexual Abuse in our middle and upper-class homes, we would have to look for reasons for this abuse within. We would then have to admit that these reasons are not as terribly complex as we would like to think. And we cannot have our families being seen as anything less than part of a great and ancient culture, can we now?’

*

[…]First there will have to be acceptance of the very existance of Child Sexual Abuse in all classes of Indian homes. And this acceptance is likely to take a very long time to come because if there is such an acceptance, it would affirm that there are a lot of adults abusing children. And then this would start to say something about Indian society. And its false facade of happy families. And the men in these families. And the kind of women who live with these men.

*

The world over fathers who have been sexually abused when they were little boys tend to sexually abuse children, their own and others, as adults.

Mothers subconsciously try very hard not to sexually abuse children, their own or others, even if they have been sexually abused when they were little girls. Instead women, specially mothers, take it out on themselves. They also physically abuse the child with slaps and other forms of beatings. They emotionally neglect them by mentally ‘blanking out’ their children from time-to-time; this space which the mother puts between her and her offspring is seen by psychiatrists as a desire on the part of the mother not to hurt her children the way she was hurt by her elders.

*

Well, has there ever been a time when fathers, along with their wives, have not impressed upon their sons, almost conditioned them into thinking, that they—the male—possess that magnificent trump card: the power of choice? Mothers tell their daughters only this: the male will come and choose from a sea of simpering young girls like you; on a white charger he will come and whisk you off your feet, please perfect the art of simpering till he arrives.

The male and his magnificent trump card: that power of choice. So now, before he ‘settles down’, and even during and after, he also chooses little boys. But will this be enough proof for the parents of young males that they need to explain to their sons that they need to behave with other mothers’ daughters, and other people’s sons too? If those parents had done this before, maybe the statistics would not be as bad as they are today? And now that the world is turning on its head, or so it may seem to the parents of only sons, with older—and much elder—men actively seeking little boys, what should the mothers and daughters feel?

*

Prema is now a child-prostitute in Calcutta’s Sonagaachi. She is not plump anymore, she has several sexual diseases including Aids. She says she never complained against her inspector-father at the police station because she knew they would suspend him and then what would her stepbrother, stepsister and stepmother eat?

Books [en]

I’m running out of books to read. During the last couple of weeks, I have been devouring them like the bookworm I once was – and it is a very satisfying feeling.

After Pinki Virani’s book, I swallowed up Jhoompa Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies – a very nice collection of short stories.

I followed with Naipaul – India: A Wounded Civilization. An astounding but somewhat depressing essay on Indian culture. A book that I will put at the top of my list of recommended reading for anyone who wants to try and understand India – from inside or out. I have a good mind to read it again and summarize its main lines of thought for you; but you’re going to read it all the same, aren’t you?

The next in line is called Ladies Coupé. Through the train journey of a woman who has never married because she has worked all her life to support her family, we are allowed into the lives of these six women who find themselves together in the ladies coupe. Six different lives, six different stories.

After quickly going through a small collection of science fiction stories my roommate had brought with her, I went begging around for something to read. I was handed the first of the Harry Potter books, which I read from cover to cover in the space of an evening and a morning. I’m not one to fall for crazes and cults, but I’ll definitely read the other ones.

I hope there is a good bookstore in Haridwar.

Bitter Chocolate [en]

Rishikesh, 26 August 01

I’ve finished reading another disturbing book. After the concentration camps of World War II and Partition, here comes Bitter Chocolate by Pinki Virani – a study on Child Sexual Abuse in India.

One out of four boys. Four out of ten girls. In all social classes, from lower to upper. By aggressors of same or different sex. The rare comlaints filed take years to reach court. More often than not, they are dismissed for lack of conclusive evidence.

My new “tagline” for India is The Country of Red Tape. Related, this example of Indian logic, excerped from Pinki Virani’s book.

A young boy is abused in his school by a meditation summer class teacher. The parents refuse to report the case to the police. Another parent, a lawyer, alarmed by the fact that this same teacher has been invited to give classes in his son’s own school, decides to write to the police commissioner, detailing the whole incident.

On 25 October 1999, Raju Zunzarrao Moray gets a visitor from the police station near his residence.

The police officer tells him, ‘Your complaint to the police commissioner has come to us. We were well aware of the incident but no one came forward to register it as a case. This is the first written complaint on the matter, so you are our First Informant. Therefore, we will have to start our investigations with you first.’

All right, is Raju Moray’s reaction, but then what.

‘After investigating you, we will investigate everyone else.’

‘Okay,’ says Raju Moray, ‘but just remember that I was not an eyewitness to even the boy who came home hurt. You need to speak with the boy’s family.’

‘We will.’

A doubt flickers in Raju Moray’s mind. ‘By now the boy has gone back to Pune. Suppose his family here says nothing of the sort happened.’

‘Then it will be assumed that you have made a false complaint.’

‘What absolute nonsense!’

‘Not nonsense; it is a serious matter to make a false complaint.’

‘But it is not a false complaint.’

‘If you cannot prove it, it is; also, then you have no business to unnecessarily clutter up our files and cause us unnecessary hardship.’

Raju Moray re-starts the conversation, ‘Listen, let us assume—correctly, since I know what they have decided—that the boy’s grandfather says that there was no incident. Then what?’

‘Then we will call you to the police station to question you on why you filed a false complaint.’

‘But it is not… oh all right, then what happens?’

‘Then we will call you, and we will call you again for questioning, as and when the need arises.’

‘I have to go to court you know, I have to be available for my clients and my practise. You should at least tell me when you would call me, I cannot come in the mornings, I can after court during the evenings. And, obvioulsy, I see no reason to come every day to simply sit in the police station.’

‘Then it is better you write a letter saying you are withdrawing your complaint so that we can close the file.’

‘But you have not even opened a case till now because no case has been filed. Where is the question of closing an un-opened file?’

‘These are technical matters; better you just say in a letter you are withdrawing your complaint.’

Please do read this very sensible book. Awareness is what is needed first – and your awareness could make the difference for someone. Whether or not you are in India or Indian.

Humanité [en]

IUCAA, 15 août 01, 22h30

Passant à  travers un groupe de mendiants dans mon rickshaw, j’ai compris en un éclair le sens qu’a ma lecture de Si c’est un homme alors que je suis en Inde. En apercevant une de ces jeunes femmes vêtues de haillons, un bébé au regard vide, s’il a un, jeté négligement sur l’épaule, j’ai réalisé que ce constat fait par Primo Levi sur la perte d’humanité dans les camps, j’avais eu l’occasion de le faire par moi-même, quoique d’une position bien extérieure, lors de mon séjour en Inde.

Il vient un moment où le sort des mendiants ne touche plus – surtout celui des enfants, et de ceux qui ne vendent rien – parce que leur lot les met tellement en marge de l’humanité qu’il n’est plus possible de s’identifier à  eux. Il vient aussi un moment où l’on accepte qu’en Inde un animal n’est qu’un animal, alors que dans notre occident privilégié ils jouissent d’un statut plus élevé que nombre d’hommes sur la planête – et cela même si la loi peine à  les voir autrement que comme des objets.

“Est-ce bien?”, “est-ce mal?” et “que vaut-il mieux?” sont les questions que je ne puis plus me poser pour l’instant.