In the postmodern era,
socially engaged literary scholars grapple with a series of paradoxes. Taking
action in the world presupposes a belief in the truth of one's own ideas.
However, if truth is deemed unknowable, as contemporary theory often suggests, what
justifies one's commitment? False universal principles have historically been
used to justify exploitation. But if the oppressed are to break free from
oppression, must they adhere to equally false universal principles? What sets
their pursuit apart from that of their oppressors? If competing claims for
justice stem from fundamentally different interpretations of reality, how can
conflicts be resolved without resorting to violence? And how do these questions
pertain to the study of literature?
Eagleton, Jameson, and Said, address these issues by
examining them through the lens of writings from formerly colonized regions.
While their insights apply to literary production in Africa, Asia, Latin
America, and the Middle East, they specifically focus on the Irish context. Eagleton, Jameson, and Said contribute to this
endeavor by applying their theoretical perspectives to the question of
nationalism and the role of cultural production in postcolonial societies, with
Ireland as a key example.
In his introductory essay, Seamus Deane illustrates the
fruitful application of these perspectives to the interpretation of Irish
history, literature, and politics. He demonstrates how Irish nationalism
absorbed various British stereotypes, despite primarily serving as a reaction
against British imperialism. Deane argues that neither the resulting myth of
Irish national identity nor recent debunkings of it provide adequate tools for
addressing the present conflict. He emphasizes the need to read writers like
Joyce, Yeats, and Synge within the specific historical context that produced
them, viewing them as enduring "presences" within this context.
Deane's ultimate goal is to present Irish literature and culture as a unified
tradition that can function as an empowering system, allowing people to act in
certain ways while recognizing that their "universal" principles,
national origins, and stable identity concepts are all constructs. By placing
these constructs within a concrete historical context and adopting an attitude
of "ironic self-consciousness" towards them, Deane aims to transcend
sectarian conflicts and exploitative tendencies without relinquishing
allegiance to specific places, communities, and cultural practices.
Eagleton's essay, "Nationalism: Irony and
Commitment," arrives at a similar conclusion through a slightly different
route. He highlights the inherent contradictions in the nationalist aspirations
of a colonized people, as they remain conceptually tied to the colonizer's view
of reality, which they aim to reject, and to a pre-existing project that
already encompasses the reality they seek to create. Eagleton argues that those
who voice such aspirations are never fully congruent with themselves as actors
in a specific historical context; there is always a divide between what they
are and what they profess to be. To navigate this dilemma, Eagleton suggests
interrogating the present with all its contradictions and alienations to
identify a space from which a "feasible future" might emerge. This
concrete and specific space must be embraced before it can be transcended
through an awareness of more abstract general principles. In essence, Eagleton
contends that individuals can only free themselves by recognizing and
wholeheartedly living out their unique differences in an ongoing dialectic
between the specific and the general. This dialectical process, he posits, will
eventually lead them to inquire about the universal conditions that must be met
before their individual needs can be fulfilled. This inquiry, Eagleton asserts,
will culminate in the realization that others (of different races, genders, or
nations) must also be liberated for true freedom to be achieved. Like Deane,
Eagleton advocates for an "ironic self-consciousness" that, akin to
Joyce's, can view its own totalizations skeptically and perceive its specific
"someplace" as a universal "anyplace."
Jameson's essay, "Modernism and Imperialism,"
primarily focuses on the consciousness of the colonizer, but also acknowledges
Joyce's use of irony in a positive light. He contrasts Joyce's Ulysses with E.
M. Forster's Howard's End to demonstrate how Joyce's irony and stylistic
innovations acted as surrogates for the new form of verbal discourse required
to define the realities of the modern world. Although Joyce did not explicitly
identify the exploitative relationships governing this world, he recognized the
need to transcend conventional uses of language—an imperative Forster did not
share. Jameson views modernism as a compensatory mechanism allowing Westerners
to enjoy the benefits of global imperialism while turning a blind eye to the
suffering it inflicted on third-world populations. Nevertheless, Joyce and
other Irish writers' modernist works were distinct in that they were rooted in
a third-world reality overlapping with a first-world socio-economic
environment. This awareness, Jameson argues, altered the nature of the
modernist project and endowed it with a new potential for liberation.
In "Yeats and Decolonization," Said advances a
similar thesis regarding the Irish poet. He contends that culture had
buttressed Euro-American political and economic hegemony in the 19th and early
20th centuries. Western concepts of human nature, civilization, and commodity
value had contributed to the subjugation of third-world peoples and the
usurpation of their lands. Faced with their own disenfranchisement, these
peoples crafted nationalist myths to justify their anti-imperialist struggle.
However, these nationalist causes were often co-opted by reactionary forces,
and even socially committed writers found themselves compelled to adopt the
language of the colonizer, laden with its associations of oppression and
domination. Said maintains that nationalism, under these conditions, represents
the initial step towards liberation. Writers like Yeats, Césaire, Neruda, Faiz,
and Darwish, by reimagining new worldviews to supplant those promoted by
colonial powers, propel this movement forward. Consequently, Said asserts that
Yeats is best understood not as a modernist or representative of British high
culture, but as the national poet of a third-world people. Even his mystical
imagery, such as "pernes" and "gyres," reflects an
understanding that the moment was unfavorable for his revolutionary aspirations
and that the acquisition of power alone is insufficient to bring about the
liberation he envisioned.
Said’s essay underscores an intricate interplay between
literature and a contemporary reality deeply shaped by the enduring impact of
colonialism and the corresponding rise of nationalist movements in opposition.
While not everyone may be swayed by their use of Ireland as a model for the
broader global situation, it is hard not to appreciate the intellectual acumen
with which they probe the potential for forging new modes of discourse to
grapple with seemingly insurmountable conflicts, such as the one in Northern
Ireland. Without compromising their social dedication or sidestepping the
complexities of postmodern theory, they all affirm the imperative of anchoring
literary analysis in an understanding of the specific historical circumstances
that underlie all cultural productions, infusing them with significance. They
also concur in advocating for the cultivation of an "ironic
self-consciousness" that might empower individuals to persevere in the
arduous and potentially unending struggle for liberation. While their solutions
may not offer conclusive answers, they merit serious consideration for anyone
seeking to harmonize the imperatives of social engagement with the complexities
of contemporary critical theory.
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