Life as an Extreme Sport

Hair today,…

…in absolutely nothing related to academia except for the request to keep things easy to style and able to look professional, I got my hair cut today. It’s the shortest it’s ever been, and I really quite like it. We’ll see how I like it after a few days of styling.

I have been thinking about the fact that my identity is so tied in to having had long hair. I’ve always had long hair, my first long-term boyfriend would regularly brag about its length and colour, and my ex-husband thought it was my best feature. For various reasons, largely pertaining to other people’s preferences, I’ve simply always kept it long. (I did change the colour once – I went to a sort of strawberry red, although the desire had been a vibrant red. It was okay, but I think I prefer blonde.)

When I went to the stylist today, I went from “I’m getting a trim” to “do whatever, I just want a change” – and I got that change.

There’s a weird mental shifting going on, as though my identity is morphing. (Well, point of fact, my identity has been under a constant, fluid shift for over a year, but this is a weird feeling of internal shifting happening in real time, as opposed to realizing a few months past that there’s been a change.) I have a powerful urge to reread Maalouf’s In the Name of Identity….

Post-lecture Blues

It’s going to take some adjusting, this whole not really having a day off thing for this quarter. I’m tired this morning (okay, afternoon) – probably has to do with not getting to sleep until 3 or 4 am (hello, insomnia). So I’m feeling groggy and unmotivated, and not at all interested in going to work, doing schoolwork, or even seeing MirrorMask.

Beyond that, I think I’m suffering a bit of post-lecture letdown; I’m feeling pretty glum and isolated right now. Getting up and talking – even more than that, being friendly and cheerful and just… trying to knit together all the webs of connectivity and signification – seems to really tire me out. Which is in that ironic-sucks camp, as this really is what I’d like to spend my life doing. Phillip warned me about this a year ago, though, and still gets hit by it himself. I think the large difference between the two of us (aside from that whole PhD/experience thing) is that he has a better support network for it than I do. I’m still trying to figure out what I need for that support.

Whatever it is, I know I need to recharge my batteries before Monday.

(up)dates

I’m…not tired, yet tired at the same time. I’ve been fighting a lot on whether or not there’s really anything to be said over here, if there’s anything I want to put out there that I wouldn’t be willing to put out on Academia. I waffle – especially now that I’ve shared the URL with this quarters students. How much of my life do I want to become an open book? I’ve always maintained a policy that I’ll answer anything asked of me, but there’s a big difference between responding and volunteering.

In another vein, I’ve noticed lately the strong desire not to move on, but to have moved on. I’m seeing guys a touch differently, trying to read body language and signals, I’ve sussed out what it is I’m interested in, and I’ve noticed a few men who fit that description. I even went so far tonight as to leave a note (with a list of authors/essays, and my email addy) to someone at the restaurant I ate at – he asked what I was reading (Geertz), and we ended up talking for 10 minutes, until his manager yanked him back to work. He was friendly, asked my name, introduced himself, and stopped back to touch base with me, so I figured why not. If nothing else, I get someone else I can babble academia towards.

There’s a boy whose eyes haunt me. Perhaps some day…

Introspective tonight.

Geertz, Eroticization and Exoticization of the Balinese

This past week, I’ve had to read Clifford Geertz’s “Thick Description” and “Notes on the Balinese Cockfight” for the, third, maybe fourth time. And while preparing to sound at least somewhat intelligent and well-thought on the issues presented, I found myself stumbling not over Cohen and sheep-stealing, or the interpretation of the wink, or even what culture is. Nor did I find myself hanging up on the ritual of the cockfight or the psychological underpinings of metaphorical and double entrendre of Balinese men and their cocks. What did jump out to me is what feels like the excessive eroticization and exotization that Geertz perpetrates upon the Balinese. Perhaps the most lurid example of this writing is the following excerpt,

Aside from cocks and a few domestic animals – oxen, ducks – of no emotional significane, the Balinese are averse to animals and treat their large number of fogs not merely callously but with a phobic cruelty. In identifying with his cock(1), the Balinese man is identifying not just with his ideal self, or even his penis, but also, and at the same time, with what he most fears, hates, and ambivalence being what it is, is fascinated by – “The Powers of Darkness”(2)

In his breathless descriptives of the male cockfighting society and his almost juvenile delight in the supposed double entendre’s available in posture and identification with the roosters, Geertz appears to perpetuate the myth of the passionate, animalist and sexualized, orientalized Other.

And it would be all well and good to be outraged at this perpetuation of the eroticized Other if it weren’t for a subsequent essay, “Being Here”, in which Geertz sits down and systematically ferrets out many of the problems facing contemporary anthropology and enthnography. He acknowledges that which James Clifford has said, that it “is no longer the other, but [the] cultural description itself” which has become curious.

Geertz also quotes an absolutely brilliant passage by that worst of all creatures, the literary critic, referrencing that

The urge to conform to the canons of scientific rhetoric has made the easy realism of natural history the dominant mode of ethnographic prose, but it has been an illusory realism, promoting on the one hand, the absurdity of “describing” nonentities such as “culture” or “society”, as if they were fully observable, though somewhat ungainly, bugs, and, on the other, the equally ridiculous behaviorist pretense of “describing” reptitive patterns of action in isolation from the discourse that actors use in constituting and situating their action, and all in simpleminded surety that the observers’ grounding discourse is itself an objective form sufficient to the task of describing acts. (3)

Whew – a mouthful. But I think Tyler is basicallly saying (in an essay whose title alone I love, “Post-Modern Ethnography: From Document of the Occult to Occult Document”) anthropology has harboured, under the “Dr. Livingstone I presume” version of itself, the belief that one can discover and possess a group of people, and in that discovery and possession proceed to know them to the point of reporting objective field facts of culture as if it were a static entity, as well as believing itself capable of taking some action or sign and removing it from the webs of signification that embed said action/sign. (You know, I’m not certain that sentence helped break down the quote. At all. In fact, I strongly suspect that it didn’t.)

Geertz agrees with this position, saying that

[t]o argue…that the writing of ethnography involves telling stories, making pictures, concosting symbolisms, and deploying tropes is commonly resisted, often fiercely, because of a confusion, endemic in the West since Plato at least, of the imagined with the imaginary, the fictional with the false, making things out with making them up. The strange idea that reality has an idiom in which is prefers to be described, that its very nature demands we talk about it without a fuss – a spade is a spade, a rose a rose – on pain of illusion, trumpery, and self-betwitchment, leads on to the even stranger idea that, if literalism is lost, so is fact.

“All ethnographical descriptions are homemade.” If he truly believes this, then is the value in the enthnography that he has recorded about a culture, or is it in what he chooses to record about the culture? Is it the Balinese who are erotic and exotic, or is it Geertz’s lense on the Balinese Orientalizing them into erotic exotic beings? Or, perhaps more to the point, is this Geertz’s positionality, or our own?

(1)You can almost hear Geertz giggling as he types this.
(2) “The Powers of Darkness” are the animalistic demons that constantly threaten to invade the cleared-off and sanctified space in which the Balinese have built their lives.
(3) “Post-Modern Ethnography: From Document of the Occult to Occult Document”