This month flew by, that\u2019s for sure. I mainly spent it working on a couple of articles. I also spent tens of hours playing a video game. Oh, and what a treat it was, to just play and play, like \u2026 no \u2026 not like there\u2019s no tomorrow \u2026 but like today is, suddenly, already, tomorrow or, rather that tomorrow is, suddenly, already, today. Now, I won\u2019t comment on that here, as I\u2019ll reserve that for another essay or essays, but, yeah, what a treat it is to have time like that, just going on for hours. It used to be like that for me, when I was like half my age or so. With work, of course, you really don\u2019t have the time for such, and I like to keep it that way. It\u2019s also something that I feel like I need to do, just so that I know at least something about games, like what\u2019s what these days, because students are into that stuff. It\u2019s tough to be a teacher and not have the faintest clue what the students are into and, perhaps, would like to write about in their work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anyway, work being work, while I was writing an article, I did what people like me do and used some keywords to check if there\u2019s anything particularly relevant and recent out there, something I haven\u2019t had the opportunity to read, yet. Long story short, I landed on a very recent book edited by Chris Post, Alyson Greiner and Geoffrey Buckley, \u2018The Routledge Companion to the American Landscape\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was particularly happy to read Richard Schein\u2019s foreword to the book \u2018Foreword: Reading the Landscape\u2019. Why? Well, he summarizes much of his own work, what he has done and the way he has done it, without getting lost in the weeds. If you want something to familiarize yourself with what I particularly like, check it out. You may also want to check out his previous work, if you want all that detail to it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Why do I like his approach? That\u2019s a tough one. I guess there are multiple answers to that. What most likely attracted me to it was what I had read previously, namely Donald Meinig\u2019s \u2018The Beholding Eye: Ten Versions of the Same Scene\u2019, Peirce Lewis\u2019 \u2018The Beholding Eye: Ten Versions of the Same Scene\u2019 and Marwyn Samuels\u2019 \u2018The Biography of Landscape: Cause and Culpability\u2019. You can find him making good use of those essays in his article \u2018The Place of Landscape: A Conceptual Framework for Interpreting an American Scene\u2019, which probably struck a chord with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then there\u2019s the methodological aspect to it, like the way he approaches landscape<\/em>. I think it\u2019s pretty Foucauldian and having familiarized myself with Michel Foucault\u2019s work, namely the centrality of discipline<\/em> in contemporary societies, it must have also struck a chord with me. Okay, I\u2019d say that I prefer or have come to prefer Gilles Deleuze\u2019s and F\u00e9lix Guattari\u2019s work more, because their work addresses landscape, whereas, to my knowledge, Foucault\u2019s doesn\u2019t. Then again, they are so similar that they both get the job done for me. It\u2019s just a matter of preference, really. I happen to like the way they explain the role of desire in it all, so, yeah, which is the difference between my approach and Schein\u2019s approach to landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then there\u2019s the attention to detail that I like about Schein\u2019s work. It\u2019s also twofold. Firstly, it\u2019s clear that he knows what\u2019s what and is afraid to show it. I mean, if I did the calculation right, he includes, what, 37 citations in a single paragraph in \u2018The Place of Landscape: A Conceptual Framework for Interpreting an American Scene\u2019. Some might call that name dropping. I call it good work. I love people who are thorough. Secondly, that detail is also there in the analysis. Some might call it tedious. I call it good work. Again, I love people who are thorough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Oh, and while I may have mentioned these as reasons why I like his work, and consider it similar to mine, or rather, mine similar to his, I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve mentioned how I appreciate the photos in his work. Some of them are his own, while others are by others, I appreciate the work that he puts in this way as well. Having photos is not, of course, an end all, be all, but it\u2019s a nice touch and doing it yourself does show that you aren\u2019t afraid of work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now, to be clear, it isn\u2019t all about the work involved. An essay, an article, a book chapter or a book doesn\u2019t get better simply by spending more hours working on it. It\u2019s rather that if you put in the hours, you tend to get good at whatever it is that you are doing. If others don\u2019t like it, because it may, of course, come across as showy, if not smug, that\u2019s on them. It\u2019s the jealousy talking, that ressentiment <\/em>over someone else doing good, while being well aware that you aren\u2019t doing good, simply because you aren\u2019t putting in the hours to get good at it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Complaining that someone includes plenty of references to the work of others, in acknowledgement of their relevance and, in some cases, importance, is nothing out of ordinary. It\u2019s kudos. If you don\u2019t like it, it\u2019s probably telling of your insecurities and lack of effort, not knowing what\u2019s what. It\u2019s just so, so much easier to go against that than it is to take the time that\u2019s needed to figure out whether the other person has put in the hours or not to know what\u2019s what. That\u2019s the difference of working hard and being lazy for you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anyway, to address the foreword, what I like about it is how he reminds his readers that landscape <\/em>is not simply something out there, waiting for us to address it, to uncover it, but, in part, in our heads. This is what Meinig pointed out in his essay decades ago. He didn\u2019t provide an exhaustive list of the ways we come to see the world as landscape, nor what we come to pay attention to, but that was his point. It all depends on us, on \u201cthe perspective we bring to the scene\u201d, as Schein (xxii) points out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To be clear, as I\u2019ve pointed out many, many times, this doesn\u2019t mean that the world is unique to each of us. No. Why? Well, if it was unique to us, we couldn\u2019t understand one another. In other words, experience<\/em> is always collective<\/em>, something that we can indeed share.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This ties the discussion here back to the importance of work. You can indeed experience<\/em> the world the way others do, if you just put in the hours. It\u2019s not always feasible though. You can\u2019t experience it all. There\u2019s just no way that you can know it all, share in all that collective experience, so that you can experience in all those ways. Even if you didn\u2019t have to do anything for living, you\u2019d probably still run out of time. Now, that doesn\u2019t mean that it\u2019s then all somehow pointless. No, no. I think you can learn just about anything. It\u2019s then rather whether you are willing to put in the hours to do that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To explain that in terms of research, if you want to focus on, let\u2019s say, the biological aspects of a certain landscape and you don\u2019t happen to have a background in biology or some other related field or discipline, you can put in the hours to make it possible. All it takes is hard work. It\u2019s just that whether you want to do that or not. Maybe, just maybe it\u2019s better that you focus on something that\u2019s already familiar to you and have someone else focus on that, because they don\u2019t have to put in all those hours for it, having done that in the past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Again, I\u2019m sure you can do that, inasmuch as you dedicate your time to it. I know plenty of stuff that I\u2019m not expected to know, because I spent countless hours on all kinds of stuff. Why do I do that? Well, I just do. I\u2019m just that way, at least at the moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It clearly bothers a lot of people in the academics, because, to them, it indicates that I don\u2019t know my place. It\u2019s like how dare he do that, without our permission, without having a degree in it, without having been on our courses, without having been supervised by us. To honest, I don\u2019t do it because I want to annoy people. I don\u2019t really think about them. When I learn something, it\u2019s me and that knowledge, that collective experience, that I tap into. It\u2019s all about my engagement with it. There\u2019s no one else there, not even librarian who\u2019d stare at me intensively and disapprovingly for enjoying myself too much. I just do what I do, because I do, and I don\u2019t really see the point involving anyone else in it, not to mention ask their permission to do it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That does make me a bit of a hermit or, well, that\u2019s how it may come across to others. It\u2019s not that I don\u2019t like the company of others. No, that\u2019s not it. I mean, I am what I am, at any given moment, because of others, because of their company. That I owe to them. And I do enjoy a bit of good craic every now and then. I love good banter. I\u2019m gregarious like that. But that\u2019s the thing. I\u2019m more of a lone wolf than a hermit. I prefer to work alone, because, like with banter, I want others to be at my level. If we don\u2019t share the same sense of humor, it\u2019s highly unlikely that we\u2019ll end up spending time together any more than is necessary. It\u2019s the same with work. If we don\u2019t share the same work ethic, it\u2019s highly unlikely that we\u2019ll cooperate on anything. If I can do what you do, on my own, when I want it done, I don\u2019t see the point involving you. Also, even if you have something to contribute, I won\u2019t ask for your involvement if it takes forever you to do it. I\u2019m just the kind of guy who\u2019d rather not ask you, knowing that I\u2019ll figure it out myself in the meanwhile, so that when you get back to me, your contribution is no longer needed. What can I say? I like to get things done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It’s, of course, demanding of me to be that way. I mean, I know a lot and in many cases I have no use for that knowledge. Then again, that may help me in the future. It makes me less dependent on others. Plus, I don\u2019t like asking people for something. It\u2019s, well, needy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Right, where was I? So, yeah, Schein (xxii-xxiii) provides a number of examples of how we can see the world differently, depending on our backgrounds. It could be anything, so it\u2019s pointless to repeat his examples here. Instead, I think he (xxiii) summarizes that neatly by stating that:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIn short, we already are conditioned to read landscapes, albeit often unconsciously and ephemerally.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n I can only appreciate this and not just because it\u2019s about having been conditioned to see the world in a certain way and to pay attention to certain things (or to not pay attention to certain things, that\u2019s a thing as well), but also because it is indeed often unconscious and fleeting. In other words, the way people come to see the world is rarely attentive. It sort of just happens, under the hood, and being conscious about it is infrequent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is something that really, really riles up people though. If you point this out, that they don\u2019t really pay attention to their surroundings, not to mention hardly ever question what\u2019s there, they get really angry with you. It\u2019s understandable. To use the word he uses, they\u2019ve been conditioned to be that way, inattentive, while also self-assured. They think they are free, that they are autonomous, having a separate existence from the surrounding world, and they do not like it when you explain to that to them. It\u2019s a knee jerk reaction. I get it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It took me quite a bit to wrap my head around that. It was, at times, really, really challenging. Letting go of that image of yourself is the hardest thing about it. I\u2019ve mentioned this in the past, but the only reason I ended up where I ended up is because I wanted to understand what\u2019s the deal with landscape<\/em>. I read this and then I read that, but it felt like something was always missing, like it didn\u2019t make any sense, like how on earth does landscape have any influence over us if we are the way we\u2019ve been taught we are, free, autonomous, having an existence that is neatly separated from what else is there. I read article after article, just baffled by it, only to realize that I\u2019m never going to understand what these people are going on and on about, at times, pointing fingers at one another and disagreeing over something that I didn\u2019t know was worth getting up in arms about, if I don\u2019t engage with philosophy. So, I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now the difficult thing is to explain it to others. I get it, but they don\u2019t. Okay, maybe a handful of landscape scholars get it. They might still think that I\u2019m bananas and a bit unhinged, but that\u2019s fine. I don\u2019t mind that. I mean, come on, I am a bit unhinged, if not bananas, but at least they get it (which then explains why I am or, rather, appear a bit unhinged, if not bananas) and that\u2019s what matters to me. Oh, and I\u2019m fine if they still disagree with me, if they are like, dude, you and your post-structuralism, your constructivism, your post-empiricism, and what not, when it\u2019s phenomenology that\u2019s the thing. I don\u2019t mind it. It\u2019s better that way. It\u2019s healthy. What isn\u2019t healthy is to think that you know it all, that it\u2019s all for sure. So, yeah, I want to leave things a bit open, kind of like a door that won\u2019t shut properly, because, you know, it\u2019s slightly off the hinges.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To get back on track here, again, I also appreciate how he (xxiii-xxiv) reckons that we need to realize two things when we deal with landscape<\/em>. Let\u2019s go one by one. So, firstly, he (xxiii-xxiv) states that:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c[I]f we are to move beyond our own, sometimes solipsistic engagement with the landscape[,] we need to take landscape seriously as a social phenomenon[.]\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Indeed. Forget yourself. That\u2019s the first step. It\u2019s not about you. You don\u2019t matter in any of this. Okay, you matter to yourself, but that\u2019s the point, you need to let go of yourself. Landscape<\/em> is all about the interplay between us and the world, what we could simply refer to as the interplay of the text<\/em> and context<\/em>, if you will. Your part is just like anyone else\u2019s part. You are just part of it, like anyone else. You are just there, in the middle of it all, occupying a certain position, just like anyone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then, secondly, he (xxiv) states that:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c[T]o move the social requires a more disciplined attention to reading the landscape itself.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Yep. You need to learn to read landscape<\/em>. That\u2019s the hard work I\u2019ve been going on and on, and on, in this essay. But that\u2019s not all there is to it, as he (xxiv) goes on to add. To understand how landscape works, that interplay, that interaction, whatever you want to call it, you need to be disciplined about it or, as he (xxiv) points out, to be systematic about it. None of it is whimsical. It\u2019s no like \u2018I\u2019 think it\u2019s this or that way. No, no, and once more, no.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This connects the two realizations to one another: to be systematic, you need to let go of yourself, that pesky \u2018I\u2019 that keeps cropping up. Remember, this is not about you<\/em>, what you<\/em> think, nor what you<\/em> feel. You are in the mix, sure, but you just occupy a certain position in relation to what else is there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So, what\u2019s important then is not how you or someone else sees the world, nor what you or that other person think of it, but how you or that other person come to see the world that way and to think of it the way you do. That\u2019s the text<\/em> for you. You do play a part in (re)producing it, yes, but you are also its product. Of course, you do need the context<\/em>, which is the material world, what it consists of, you included, and the way it happens to be composed, how it is all connected, inasmuch it is, this and\/or that in relation to this and\/or that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What\u2019s also important is to think of the text and the context together. If we think of landscape<\/em> just as a text<\/em>, we ignore the context<\/em> where it all unfolds, the material aspect of it. If we reverse that, if we think of landscape just as the context, as the material world where it all takes place, we ignore the text, how it is that we make sense<\/em> of the world, ordering<\/em> it in a certain way, through language<\/em> or, more broadly speaking, semiosis<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now, the difficult thing about text<\/em> is that there\u2019s always more to it. There\u2019s always text behind text, if you will. You can\u2019t get to the bottom of things, really. You can\u2019t uncover meaning<\/em>, to understand what something means<\/em>, by going through texts, like layer by layer, in hopes of unearthing the first or the original layer underneath all those layers. Why? Well, that\u2019s intertextuality<\/em> for you. Texts are composed of texts. They are all composites of other texts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is the sense in which text<\/em> is simply another word for discourse<\/em>, or vice versa, if you prefer text over discourse. Discourse functions the same way. There\u2019s always more to it. There\u2019s always discourse behind discourse, but no original discourse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What\u2019s common with the two, text<\/em> and discourse<\/em>, is that they are formed or produced, on the basis of what has already been formed or produced. This is why I like Foucault\u2019s definition of discourse, as provided in \u2018The Archaeology of Knowledge and The Discourse on Language\u2019:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c[P]ractices that systematically form the objects of which they speak.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n It\u2019s just so good. Discourse<\/em> is not just something that\u2019s there, waiting for us. No. It\u2019s something that\u2019s (re)produced, all the time. It\u2019s also a matter of practice<\/em>, something that we do. While it\u2019s, perhaps, a bit unnecessary to state that it\u2019s systematic<\/em>, considering that a practice is about something that gets done over and over again, the thing here is that it\u2019s not whimsical. It is in this sense that it\u2019s always based on what it is, so that what\u2019s formed or produced is always based on what\u2019s been formed or produced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To account for contexts<\/em>, we also need to be careful with that. It\u2019s tempting to say that there are all these contexts, let\u2019s say the academic context or the essay context, the home context or the work context, you name it. The problem with that is that we end up treating them according to their type. It\u2019s like, as if, all homes were the same, even though they are not. It\u2019s not that this isn\u2019t useful. It is. It\u2019s rather that context needs to be highly specific, like what are the actual material conditions, there and then, and not in some abstract sense of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Okay, to account for contexts<\/em>, including those specifics, that granularity that I\u2019m talking about, we do it, of course, through text<\/em>. So, it is in this sense that landscape<\/em> is always a matter of text<\/em>. What\u2019s non-discursive<\/em>, that context<\/em>, is therefore inseparable from the text<\/em>. We can\u2019t address the context, all that\u2019s non-discursive, that composition, that where and when, without having recourse to text, that\u2019s to say discourse<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So, whatever objects<\/em> we deal with, while we acknowledge their materiality, their composition, and what else is there, as well as their relations, they are all discursive objects<\/em> in the sense that it is we who come to recognize them as such and such only because they\u2019ve been attributed such and such discursively.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is where it gets pretty difficult if you are not familiar with Foucault\u2019s work, or others who define this the same way. So, to be clear, whatever we have, let\u2019s say this keyboard (my usual example), is recognized as such, as a keyboard, because we have systematic practices that produce such objects of which we speak as keyboards. Simply put, we whatever it is that this thing is that I type on, which we\u2019ve come to attribute as a keyboard. The difficult thing here is that there\u2019s nothing inherent about it to warrant it to be attributed as just that, as a keyboard. There\u2019s no otherworldly idea of a keyboard or keyboardness that this, in its materiality, somehow represents or corresponds to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So, in short, we have the text<\/em> and the context<\/em>, the discursive<\/em> and the non-discursive<\/em>, or, as Deleuze and Guattari prefer to refer to them, the expression<\/em> and the content<\/em>, and their composition, their interplay, their interaction, but one is not the other, nor corresponds to the other. That\u2019s it. It might take a while to get used to that, to wrap your head around it, but once you get it, it\u2019s simple really.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If you struggle with the notions of expression <\/em>and content<\/em>, as borrowed from the work of Louis Hjelmslev by Deleuze and Guattari, take a look at what one of their translators, Brian Massumi, has to say about them in the introduction to a book he edited, \u2018A Shock to Thought: Expression after Deleuze and Guattari\u2019. Early on, he (xiii) points out that expression (i.e., discourse<\/em> or text<\/em>) has a long history of being thought as being subjective<\/em>, whereas content (i.e., non-discourse <\/em>or context<\/em>) has been thought as the real deal, what\u2019s objective<\/em>. The point he (xiii) wants to make here is that expression is often thought as merely something that expresses content, the point for humans then being that we are expected to communicate or transmit that content from one person to another through expression. In other words, expression gets a bad rap because it\u2019s thought to be liable for not getting that content across.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The thing is, however, that this is not how it works for Deleuze and Guattari, nor Foucault, nor for Schein. I think Massumi (xiv) does a great job at summarizing this:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe assertion that expression is actively formative of its content, or its \u2018objects\u2019, is a constructivist strategy underpinning most contemporary anti-communicational semiotics.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n This goes back to how, for them, content<\/em> is, in itself, expression<\/em> of some content, which is also, in itself, expression of some content. They remain distinct, but they are intertwined in this way. You can\u2019t think of content without the expression. You need both, as Hjelmslev (30) points out in \u2018Prolegomena to a Theory of Language\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It\u2019s also worth noting how this way of thinking goes against what, I\u2019d say, most people think. As Massumi (xiv) points out, content<\/em> does not causally determine expression<\/em>. Note how it\u2019s the exactly opposite way around, so that it is the expression that changes content or, rather, has the capacity to change content. If you are familiar with what became known as the speech act theory, this is nothing new to you. If that\u2019s new to you, all you need to know is J. L. Austin\u2019s book title \u2018How to Do Things with Words\u2019. That\u2019s it. That\u2019s the secret sauce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anyway, Massumi also accounts for discourse in relation to expression. To me, they are interchangeable, although, I guess expression is more particular, whereas discourse is more general, or something. So, he (xiv) states that:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c\u2018Discourse\u2019, by this account, constructs the subject by constructing the objects in polarity with which the subject forms.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Again, we could replace discourse here with expression, but that\u2019s not really that important, as long as you get what he\u2019s after. He (xiv) continues:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe subject\u2019s expression is still causally linked to its content, but the nature of the link has changed.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n This goes back to the point about how you can\u2019t have one without the other. He (xiv) expands on that:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat traditionally appeared as a one-way determination of expression by a mirroring of or a moulding by its content \u2026 reappears as a formative polarity[.]\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n This is what Deleuze and Guattari (86) mean when they state that there\u2019s no \u201ccorrespondence nor conformity\u201d between the two, so that the expression isn\u2019t something that\u2019s determined by the content so that it would simply represent, describe, or aver some corresponding content.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To give you some examples, think of paintings and photos. We can think of the world as what we are painting or photographing. That\u2019s the content<\/em>. The painting or the photo is then the expression<\/em>. But is the painting or the photo merely a representation<\/em> of the content? Well, it is if you insist that it is, but it is not, if you don\u2019t insist that it is. If you think it is, it is, but if you don\u2019t think it is, it isn\u2019t. Just think of it. A painting or a photo may certainly look like the world or, rather, a portion of it. It may therefore resemble it or be similar to it in that regard, but that\u2019s not all there is to a painting or a photo. If someone paints or photographs, there\u2019s nothing inherent about that which would require the painting or the photograph to represent the world, that is to say re-present it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To explain what Deleuze and Guattari are after here is that the painting or the photo has capacity to change the world. It may or may not look like the world, or a portion of it, sure, but there\u2019s more to it. This is why I like Hayden Lorimer\u2019s take on this in \u2018Cultural geography: the busyness of being \u2018more than representational\u2019\u2019, how he asks us to think not representationally<\/em>, nor non-representationally<\/em>, nor anti-representationally<\/em>, but rather more-than-representationally<\/em>. It acknowledges how things may appear to us as similar, but without privileging that when we assess something, in this case a painting or a photo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To be honest, while I try not to use words like represent and describe, because it makes people think in terms of resemblance or similarity, as well as fidelity, how well this and\/or that represents something in terms of its resemblance or similarity, the word itself isn\u2019t the problem. It\u2019s the way we think about the world that is the problem.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I actually like the word (OED, s.v. \u201crepresent\u201d, v.1<\/sup>), in the sense that it has to do with assuming a role or a function or occupying a certain position, having been granted the right to do so on behalf of this and\/or that person or group of persons. It has that sense that this is not that, but it functions in its position, for whatever reason. The problem with the word is when it gets tied to resemblance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Heck, even Deleuze and Guattari use the word every now and then. For example, in \u2018A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia\u2019, they (118) mention nomads as the representatives of the countersignifying semiotic. They (128) also note that in the postsignifying semiotic the subject \u201cconceives of itself following a line of deterritorialization represented by methodical doubt.\u201d They (146) indicate that \u201cpragmatics (or schizoanalysis) can be represented by four circular components that bud and form rhizomes\u201d, that \u201cthe face represents a far more intense, if slower, deterritorialization\u201d (172), \u201cpopular Ethiopian scrolls representing demons\u201d (182) and \u201cthe first zone is represented by the public central bank\u201d (226). It\u2019s not so much the word representation as it is resemblance or understanding representation as a matter of resemblance that they (233) object to, as notable in this passage:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt is all there: there is a becoming-animal not content to proceed by resemblance and for which resemblance, on the contrary, would represent an obstacle or stoppage[.]\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Note here how you have resemblance<\/em>. It\u2019s presented as a problem. Then there\u2019s becoming<\/em>, which cannot be defined in terms of resemblance, which, in fact, represents something that must be overcome. In short, the problem with representation is that we tend to think of it as a matter of doubling, so that this represents that, having this or that fidelity, resembling it well or not so well, as opposed to a matter of function, this acting on behalf of that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To get back on track here, Deleuze and Guattari ask us to think the exact opposite way. So, as crazy as it may seem, it is not the subject <\/em>that simply expresses <\/em>some content<\/em>, but rather that content gets expressed through the subject, as noted by Massumi (xiv). To limit this just to language, for the sake of simplicity, it\u2019s not really accurate to say that we say that we speak language, but rather that language speaks through us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Massumi (xv) also offers a handy summary of how Deleuze handles language in \u2018The Logic of Sense\u2019. So, in short, there are three things that we need to account for. Firstly, there\u2019s the designation<\/em>, which is that objective<\/em> material world. We refer to it, so that, for example, there\u2019 this<\/em> and that<\/em>. That\u2019s it. It\u2019s what\u2019s there. Yes or no. It\u2019s that simple. Secondly, there\u2019s manifestation<\/em>, which is the person who speaks. This is what\u2019s subjective<\/em> about this. Thirdly, there\u2019s signification<\/em>, which is the play of signifiers<\/em>. What matters here is that we all these words that deal with things in general, not in particular. What\u2019s missing here is the discussion of sense<\/em>, but I will not get tangled up on that here, as I\u2019ve explained in the past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Most people ignore signification<\/em>. They think that words correspond to things, so that when you (the subject) say something, you are simply saying something about the world (the object). By doing that, they ignore how truth is always conditional, as conditioned by language, or to be more specific here, by signification, as noted by Massumi (xv). Now, it may seem like we can fix that by turning our attention to signification, but the problem with that is that it leads to nowhere, signifiers<\/em> do not lead to signifieds<\/em>, but to other signifiers, in an infinite chain, as words can only ever be explained by other words, as explained by Deleuze and Guattari (112) in \u2018A Thousand Plateaus\u2019. Plus, as the two (66) also note, relying on signification end up replicating the na\u00efve take as the word is thought to be the signifier and the thing it supposedly refers to is thought to be the signified<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I also like how Massumi (xvi) explains the role of the subject <\/em>in all this as its particularly important to why you<\/em>, the subject, just aren\u2019t important in the study of landscapes. So, as he (xvi) points out, a subject does not simply speak of objects<\/em>, as in represent<\/em> them through language<\/em>. No, no, and no. Instead, the subject is a product of how it all works, as he (xvi) also points out:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c[A] subject is made to be in conformity with the system that produced it, such that the subject reproduces the system.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Agreed. The problem with this is, however, that if the subject is merely the product of the system, the system never changes, as acknowledge by him (xvi). That\u2019s why he (xvi) goes on to add that:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat reproduces the system is not what the subject says per se<\/em>. The direct content of its expressions do not faithfully reflect the system[.]\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Indeed. If the subject faithfully reproduced the system, nothing would change, as I just pointed out. This does not, however, mean that the subjects seek to change the system. As you may have noticed, things do have a tendency of staying the same or, at least, pretty much the same. The thing here is that the subject must appear as if it did choose to reproduce the system, even though it is the system that seeks to reproduce itself through the subject, making it reproduces the system, as (xvi) commented by him. I really like how he (xvi) condenses that into a couple of sentences:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe subject does not express the system. It is<\/em> an expression of the system.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n So, as I just explained this, we are expressions of that system and thus bound to reproduce it. To be clear, we don\u2019t have to reproduce it. We could change things, but, well, we don\u2019t. This doesn\u2019t mean that things don\u2019t change, nor that we don\u2019t want anything to change, but rather that the system tends to remain very much the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anyway, what\u2019s important here that the system tends to reproduce itself not because it is in your best interest for the system to reproduce itself, but because you are produced to think that way, that it is in your best interest for the system to reproduce itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This ties well with what Schein (xxiii) has to say about our largely unconscious and largely ephemeral engagement with our surroundings. Inasmuch as we think that liking something, like a particular landscape or its features, are a matter of preference, that we choose to like it the way we like it, we are bound to keep things the way they are and object to any suggested changes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n This discussion of (re)production of existing states of affairs also ties well with what Schein (xxviii) has to say about our relation to our surroundings. To be clear, things do not change wildly. Like this keyboard just doesn\u2019t disassemble itself and then reassemble itself as something else. No. That said, a lot of things still change. We just don\u2019t notice it, unless we compare how things were and how they are now, let\u2019s say ten years apart. Then it\u2019s clear that, oh, yeah, that has changed and that has changed. In short, things do change, quite a bit, we just like to think that they don\u2019t and would like to keep things the way they are, probably because we are afraid of change. Now is good, so why change anything. That\u2019s the gist of it. Whether now is good is, of course, another thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anyway, Schein (xxviii) recognizes this, how things do, in fact, change, all the time:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIn the end we recognize that all landscapes are everywhere in the constant state of becoming[.]\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n What does this mean in terms of research? Well, there\u2019s two ways to go about this. Firstly, we can keep track of the changes, producing more and more research. That happens all the time. It\u2019s fine, but it does make you think or, at least, it has made me think. Secondly, we can focus on how those changes occur, inasmuch as they do or, as explained by Schein (xxviii):<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c[W]e recognize \u2026 that our landscape reading is about asking how landscapes work.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n I don\u2019t know about you, but I\u2019ve come to prefer this way of going about this. We can, of course, keep doing what we do, pushing out article after article, addressing the states of affairs, in comparison with previous states of affairs, but I\u2019d say that it\u2019s much more useful to understand how you do that in the first place. That allows you to understand how the world works. You then no longer need someone like me to tell you how things are as you can figure it out yourself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To be clear, I\u2019m not against doing research. I can appreciate a good study and find it fascinating to compare how things were with how they are now. It\u2019s rather that I find it more useful if everyone can do that, instead of just a select few.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is all for now. This is all I had in store for this month (and a bit more, as I ended up on a couple of tangents while I was writing this). I don\u2019t know what\u2019s in store for next month. We\u2019ll see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This month flew by, that\u2019s for sure. I mainly spent it working on a couple of articles. I also spent tens of hours playing a video game. Oh, and what a treat it was, to just play and play, like \u2026 no \u2026 not like there\u2019s no tomorrow \u2026 but like today is, suddenly, already, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3554,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[571,1663,71,48,1662,123,591,21,1383,443,15,1661,24],"class_list":["post-5316","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-essays","tag-austin","tag-buckley","tag-deleuze","tag-foucault","tag-greiner","tag-guattari","tag-hjelmslev","tag-lewis","tag-lorimer","tag-massumi","tag-meinig","tag-post","tag-samuels"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5316","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3554"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5316"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5316\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5324,"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5316\/revisions\/5324"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5316"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5316"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogit.utu.fi\/landd\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5316"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
References<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\n