Fredric Jameson's The
Geopolitical Aesthetic: Cinema and Space in the World System is an
influential work of cultural theory that examines the intersection of film,
politics, and global capitalism. It forms part of Jameson’s broader
intellectual project of understanding how culture reflects and mediates the
complexities of postmodernity and global capitalism. In this book, Jameson
draws on both Marxist theory and poststructuralist thought to analyze films as
cultural artifacts that reveal, however obliquely, the structures and
contradictions of the global system.
At the core of The Geopolitical
Aesthetic is Jameson’s concept of “cognitive mapping,” which he initially
introduced in earlier works, most notably in Postmodernism, or, the Cultural
Logic of Late Capitalism. Cognitive mapping, for Jameson, refers to the way
individuals attempt to orient themselves within the vast and abstract global
space of late capitalism. This process of cognitive orientation is particularly
important in an era where traditional forms of understanding, like class
relations or national boundaries, have become increasingly complex and
deterritorialized by the forces of globalization and multinational capital.
Jameson applies this idea of
cognitive mapping to cinema, arguing that film, as a cultural form, provides a
unique means for representing the spatial and systemic complexity of global
capitalism. Films, in his view, do not just tell stories or present characters;
they offer visual and narrative structures that allow viewers to grapple with
the “unrepresentable” dimensions of the world system. Importantly, this does
not mean that films offer a transparent or coherent picture of the world
system. Instead, they mediate our fragmented and incomplete attempts to map
that system.
One of the central claims of the
book is that films, particularly those produced in the late 20th century, serve
as allegories for the geopolitical realities of their time. These allegories
are often indirect, using narrative and visual elements to suggest larger
political or economic dynamics without making them explicit. Jameson argues that
this indirectness is itself symptomatic of the difficulties inherent in
representing global capitalism, which is so vast and complex that it defies
easy visualization or comprehension.
A key method Jameson employs in his
analysis is allegorical reading, which seeks to decode films as political texts
that, albeit indirectly, reflect the global economic and geopolitical system.
For Jameson, this process of allegorization is critical for understanding how
culture interacts with politics in an era dominated by multinational
capitalism.
For example, Jameson’s analysis of
John Schlesinger’s The Day of the Locust explores how the film uses its
portrayal of Hollywood and the American Dream to stage a broader critique of
the contradictions inherent in capitalist culture. Similarly, Jameson’s reading
of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather reveals how the film’s narrative
of mafia family dynamics can be understood as an allegory for corporate
capitalism, particularly in the way it dramatizes the tension between familial
loyalty and the imperatives of business expansion and profit.
In both of these cases, Jameson
insists that the films should not be understood as directly political in the
sense of overtly commenting on specific issues or advocating for particular
ideologies. Rather, they are political in their structure and form, in the way
they encode and reflect the contradictions of the world system. This
allegorical reading allows Jameson to bridge the gap between the seemingly
apolitical realm of popular culture and the deeply political dynamics of global
capitalism.
Jameson’s concept of the national
allegory, first developed in his essay "Third-World Literature in the Era
of Multinational Capitalism", also plays a critical role in The
Geopolitical Aesthetic. In this context, national allegories refer to
cultural texts, particularly films, that reflect the political and economic
conditions of a specific nation, but do so in a way that implicitly comments on
broader global dynamics. For Jameson, the distinction between “First World” and
“Third World” cinema is crucial here, as the former tends to focus on
individual experience and psychological depth, while the latter engages more
directly with social and political issues.
Jameson uses the example of Red
Dawn, a Cold War film directed by John Milius, to demonstrate how even
seemingly straightforward Hollywood action films can be read as national
allegories. In this case, Red Dawn depicts a fictional Soviet invasion
of the United States, and Jameson interprets this narrative as a reflection of
American anxieties about its role in the global system, particularly in
relation to the Third World. The film’s portrayal of a rural American
insurgency against a foreign occupier becomes, in Jameson’s reading, an
allegory for the United States’ involvement in various Cold War conflicts
around the globe, particularly in Latin America and Southeast Asia.
This analysis of Red Dawn
highlights one of the central arguments of The Geopolitical Aesthetic:
films, particularly those produced within the capitalist culture industries,
often express geopolitical anxieties and contradictions through their
narratives, even when these themes are not explicitly addressed. The
allegorical nature of these films allows them to mediate between the local and
the global, providing a way for audiences to make sense of their position
within a complex and interconnected world system.
In addition to his focus on
allegory, Jameson also engages with questions of genre, particularly the
relationship between realism and fantasy. He is particularly interested in how
different genres deal with the problem of representing the unrepresentable
nature of global capitalism. For Jameson, realism—while traditionally
associated with the depiction of everyday life and social relations—faces
significant challenges in the context of postmodernity. The scale and
abstraction of the world system are such that traditional realist forms are
often inadequate for capturing the complexities of global capitalism.
As a result, Jameson argues that
many contemporary films turn to fantasy or science fiction as a means of
grappling with these complexities. These genres, while ostensibly removed from
the “real” world, provide alternative ways of representing global capitalism.
In this sense, fantasy and science fiction can be seen as forms of cognitive
mapping that attempt to visualize the otherwise invisible structures of the
world system.
An example of this is Jameson’s
reading of Blade Runner, directed by Ridley Scott. The film’s dystopian
future world, with its stark division between the wealthy elite and the
impoverished masses, becomes an allegory for the inequalities and
contradictions of late capitalism. The film’s use of science fiction tropes
allows it to represent the unrepresentable: the vast, networked nature of
global capital, the exploitation of labor, and the alienation of the individual
in a system that seems to operate beyond human control.
For Jameson, this turn to fantasy
and science fiction also reflects a broader utopian impulse within postmodern
culture. While dystopian narratives like Blade Runner may seem
pessimistic, Jameson insists that they nonetheless contain a form of utopian
desire, an attempt to imagine alternatives to the existing world system, even
if those alternatives are framed in negative terms. This utopian impulse is
central to Jameson’s understanding of culture under late capitalism: even as
films reflect the contradictions and limitations of the current system, they
also point, however obliquely, to the possibility of a different, more just
world.
No comments:
Post a Comment