Most alarmingly of all, we in literary and cultural studies, have developed an extraordinarily assured and intimidating meta-critical language to allow us to manipulate these imaginary futures. Against this, I keep trying to nerve myself and anyone who crosses my path professionally to write and talk in less bullying and boring ways. This is partly a matter of lexical vigilance. I am trying to do without all of the following performance-enhancing terms and metaphors:
Farewell, dear friends. Like the recent ex-smoker, I am wont to be unpleasantly
zealous in my recommendations of the health-giving benefits of doing without
this language. (Yes, I want critical writing to get back its sense of smell.)
Lest it be feared that this programme of proscription throws me into bed
with those who have been outraged from the start by the monstrosity of such
theoretical `jargon', I might say that the nipping out of such terms is a
precondition rather for the proliferation of monstrosity than the restoration
of plain speaking, purity and good citizenship in critical language. I mean
the sort of monstrosity that results from extreme and unswerving attentiveness
to one's object, allowing oneself to be invaded and reshaped, rather than
merely prompted or propelled by it. I'm even prepared to admit that I'm looking
for a return to organic form - providing that term were allowed to mean the
form not of the organism, but that of Diderot's independent organ, in its
teratological maladjustment.
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| Steve Connor | English and Humanities | Birkbeck College |