Remembering, Shelving, and Reincorporating: Trester

As with Tannen and Tovares, probably the most interesting thing about reading Anna Trester’s work is getting to work through the texts with her. The presence of the researcher in the discussion of the text makes the text even more polyvocal—the researcher’s voice becomes laminated on the voices of those whom she researches and thus provides an additional layer of insight into the ways these texts function.

What strikes me the most about Trester’s evaluation of Bauman and Briggs’ discussion of entextualization is this issue that often we cannot recognize the entextualization until the text has been decontextualized and recontextualized. For example, it is not until the “student athlete” says “U is offering me a freshman start,” and the homophony causes a break in the frame of the expected rules of grammar, that the text is able to be recognized and reincorporated to be used later. Similarly, when the actors enter into a game frame while doing their work backstage as actors, it often takes a line or two for the text to emerge, and it often is not recognized as the text until someone takes it up as such. For example in the game “Change the quote,” the lines “that’s not in there,” “show me,” and “play the game” are all originally responses to a single speech event. It is not until they are repeated that they become recognized as the Text. In this sense, it is really almost the reincorporating that causes the shelving of discourse.

Anna suggests that perhaps this framework is a useful one for my own research, and I agree that she is correct. However, I need to look more carefully at the ways WK is instantiated by this process of reincorporation—if it is the same backward look. Certainly there is not the same level of taking up as there is in the creation of the game frame within the improve artists’ work, but at the same time, there does seem to be some sort of shared understanding that the frame of WK has been invoked, and this causes a number of participants to respond in similar, if not identical ways.

Breaking Frames and Prior Text: Norrick

Norrick’s work reminds me a great deal of the things that Becker discusses in his exploration of repetition. In his article, Becker explores the way in which humor can arise because of access to a shared prior text, for example, the prior text of the “how many x-es does it take to do y?” joke frame. Without access to that frame, the joke is largely lost, and a statement like, “How many Ph.D.’s does it take to find a wireless button” loses much of its punch.

At the same time, Norrick marries some of the concepts introduced by Bauman and Bauman & Briggs on Performativity with the work on repetition, in looking at the ways repetition is used to create frame breaks which allow for the punchline of the joke to emerge. However, Norrick makes an important distinction between jokes and parodic allusion. While both are performative speech events a la Bauman and Briggs, Norrick points to the idea that the joke is performative in an intrusive way—their use of intertextual reference is brief and used to challenge the audience to achieve the goal of the punchline, while the allusion that creates parody invites the audience to align with the speaker, drawing them together to joke at the expense of a third party.

It is this last element that I think may be useful to my own work—the work of WK and identifying WK is to align a number of speakers against the WK-participant, once the speech event has been entextualized as a WK event. Comparing the ways these alignments function will likely be a very useful tool to me as I go forward examining how WK functions within the discourse of the internet communities I’m studying.

Never Say the Same Thing Twice: Johnstone 1994

Probably what struck me the most about Johnstone's article was this notion that we repeat verbatim to say something different, but when we want to say the same thing, we make changes. I had never really thought about it before, but it's beyond correct. Reading Johnstone, I recalled something I read in an in-flight magazine about repetition: it was an article on 11 tips for good management strategies, the first of which was repetition. The suggestion was that managers and subordinates repeat what their manager or subordinate said to them as a way of not only acknowledging what was said, but also as a way of projecting, "I'm going to act on this and hold you to what you said." I was struck by the way the repetition itself adds this layer of meaning, a la Johnstone's discussion here.

This, I think is an interesting part of intertextuality, and probably the one I am most fascinated by. Although one can focus on the ways in which the texts themselves interact and therefore produce meaning, I feel like it is the "gap" between two texts, even two identical texts, which ultimately gives a great deal of insight into the ways in which the text is to be interpreted. In the case of direct repetition, there seems to be the anticipated question of, "Why is this being repeated?" whose answer provides the meaning given by the repetition: It is being repeated to show solidarity, as a request for clarification, sometimes even as a face threat to the person to whom it is being repeated. This to me is what Dr. Tannen is referring to as "abduction" the way meaning is created "on the side" of the texts; not by anything that can be directly deduced from their content but from the way in which they interact.

In the case of internet exchanges, I think a lot of these sorts of abductive ideas surface as people respond not only to what another said, but also to what she didn't say, and to the meaning she might be creating by not saying other kinds of things. I find Johnstone's article, for that reason, to be helpful in my own framework of discussion, as the discussions on which I will focus my own research are by their natures abductive rather than deductive or inductive--the choice to quote directly vs. to paraphrase is a salient one, and after reading Johnstone, I realize it is perhaps a more salient one than I might have originally realized.

Intertextuality and Performance: Bauman Ch. 1 and 5

Performativity has always been an interest of mine, so reading these works on performance and intertexuality is very interesting. I am most intrigued again by the ways in which meaning arises from the gaps—from the ways that these texts intersect one another. For example, in the “Spotted Pup” story, it is the way in which the text genres of tall tale, personal experience narrative, and practical joke all come together that ultimately make the story itself a success, and reflect well on Ed Bell’s narrative style.

Bauman’s description of performance as a mode of communication where not only the topic is being communicated but also that the speaker him or herself is drawing attention to the fact that s/he is “on display” seems a useful distinction to me.

This calls back the acknowledgement not only of speaker-hearer participation frame a la Goffman, but also an additional layer—the breaking of the “fourth wall,” to borrow a term from theater. In performance, the audience is acknowledged not only as a hearer participant in the participation framework, but also an audience in the sense of theatre, one for whom the speech itself is designed to produce some noticeable effect. Ed Bell signifies this to his audience through metalinguistic cues, prompting them to challenge him, or acknowledging their probable skepticism of the tall tale or practical joke about which he is speaking. Cues like this tell us a great deal about the performative aspects of any given (discourse) text. I think this may be a useful line of inquiry in my own research, as there is a certain element to which any given speech act in an internet community is being performed for, by the standards of, and with cognizance of the community in which it is written.

En-, Decon-, Recon- Bauman & Briggs

How do we pinpoint a text as being emblematic of a text type or as performing a particular function in relationship to other texts? Bauman and Briggs unravel the process by which a text becomes first recognized as a text type through the process of entextualization, which acknowledges not only the form and function of a text but also its full context. That recognized text may then be taken out of its original context, or decontextualized, and then reinstated as a different text type, or recontextualized.

It seems to me that repetition often serves these functions; for example, in the Sloan data, it seems evident that decontexutalization and recontextualization are happening a great deal. For example, in the conversation that Tannen (2006) recounts about the package not being taken to the post office, it is evident that first the conversation, in the context of a wife leaving a husband and leaving a package that the mailman may or may not pick up, is entextualized as a question about a household chore and whether or not the husband will be willing to perform the chore if necessary. However, it is when the same discussion arises out of its original context that it becomes re-created as a different conversation entirely—a conversation about whether or not the husband will support the wife in the instance that her job becomes more stressful. As the same bit of text (the question about the box) is repeated, it goes through the stages that Bauman and Briggs identify, which ultimately allow it to function on the different planes that Tannen identifies.

In my own case, I think white-knighting has a great deal to do with the process of decontextualization and recontextualization. One of the hallmarks of WK is that it cannot be identified alone. Unlike flaming, where the content of the statement is enough to cause it to be entextualized as an instance of flaming, WK must be situated in response to another text in order to be recognized as WK. Exactly how it is decontextualized and recontextualized is unclear to me at this point, but I feel that this line of inquiry will allow me to uncover some of the ways this particular feature functions in the discourse of the communities I wish to study.

Making the Polyvocal Polyvocal: Tovares 2006 2007

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Tovares’ research was that like the Tannen 2010, the focus texts themselves received an additional layer of polyvocality through their representation by the researcher who wrote about them. The evaluative nature of not only the topics being discussed but also the researcher added another layer of intertext to the already polyvocalic blending of the television with the speech and evaluation of the family members. For instance, when Alla adds her own interpretation of the words, “I love you,” as repeated by a husband to his wife, her own prosody and expression mark her own stance toward the data and invite us to interpret not only the intertextual nature of the conversation as we are meant to as students, but also to be drawn into the whimsy of the nature of the conversation itself—that a husband is gently joshing his wife. Although some of the whimsy is created by the excerpt itself (by the use of the words “barefoot and pregnant” to describe what the wife stands in opposition to compared to the movie on television), more is laminated by the addition of the researcher’s voice.

The ways in which intertexutal ties allow the blending of the public and the private are something that I believe will be very useful to me in my own research. Bulletin board/forum posting is inherently both a public and a private act—it simulates private “backstage” conversation, in that frequently it can seem as though a post is only in response to a single other interlocutor, or a small group of interlocutors. Yet the message board or forum is usually open to thousands, if not millions, and thus the speech that exists there is very much “frontstage” speech, even as it masquerades as a private conversation.
This also ties back to Bakhtin and his notions of a third-party who is the recipient of some of the text, or toward whom the focus text is constructed (similar to Bell’s notion of the referee). The texts themselves take on new meaning when they are repeated for a new audience; at times, it seems it is the repetition of a line like “I love you,” and the knowledge that it is a repetition which makes it possible to recognize the playfulness of the statement. In turning a comment directed to a movie character and instead directing it towards his wife, the husband creates a moment where the wife is positioned humorously in contrast to the television wife.
In unpacking the ways that gossip and television allows the bridge between public and private to be made, Tovares provides insight not immediately apparent in Bakhtin’s exploration of dialogicality. In Tovares’ work, dialogicality has a purpose distinct from characterization or merely informing the character, but rather also plays a large role in the ways people make meanings out of the mundane everyday inputs of life. Given that the internet is a public sphere where much privacy is assumed, it seems only natural that I could use the same or a similar approach to discuss some of the ways this same gap is bridged in my own texts.

A Word about a Word: Bahktin 1984

One understands why Kristeva could spend so much of her career unraveling Bahktin. He is anything but a purely transparent writer. Also, I feel a bit lost in that my familiarity with Dostoyevsky is fairly nonexistent; a shame for a former English literature major, I suppose. Nevertheless, there are several aspects to the ways Bahktin is unraveling the concepts of dialogicality and intertextuality here that are worth further unpacking.

I was most fascinated in this article by Bahktin’s use of the term “metalinguistics” to encapsulate what all of us sociolinguists would consider our every day work: the work of parole, of “languaging,” of words embedded in their contexts. The more I study sociolinguistics, the less I am certain that Saussure’s distinction between lange and parole is a useful one, for what is language without its situation? Even Labov’s original classification of language use in the attention to speech model seems to come unraveled when we think about the ways in which people may use different styles quite consciously; the “vernacular” does not always arise from the least attentive speech (c.f. current work by N. Schilling). All linguistics, I think, is truly “metalinguistics”—how language arises and contrasts with other parts of language is much of its meaning. I am reminded of Gordon’s discussions of frames and repetition; for the denotative meanings of, “I’d like to order Chinese food” or “superior” can’t unravel their meaning as they appear in the texts that Gordon examines.

As a longtime writer of fiction myself, I also found the discussion of dialogicality with regard to the author’s voice and the character’s to be an interesting one. One of the most difficult things one learns as a fiction writer is how to bury one’s voice within the voice of one’s characters—how to make them talk about the things you want them to talk about and do the things you want them to do without tipping your hand to the reader that this is what you are doing. In this sense, all fiction is laminated with the author’s voice, but in good fiction, the author’s voice is a hidden presence—the hand guiding invisible marionette strings from above the stage. In this sense I both agreed and disagreed with Bakhtin; although the author’s voice is certainly present, the extent to which it is engaged with and actively contrasting with that of the characters in the text I believe is less readily apparent than Bahktin seems to think.

Also interesting in this article was the discussion of the ways in which a narrator casts speech toward an absent interlocutor. The creation of this sort of anticipatory text is quite relevant to my own research, as I believe that part of internet discourse is concerned with what Bell refers to as referee design: speech directed with a third, absent party in mind. This is what seems to be happening in the passage Bahktin cites from Poor Folk, in what he refers to as the “sideways glance” of the text. This idea of a text which glances sideways, which frames itself outside the domain simply of interlocutors to also encompass probable reactions of a third party is, I think critical to understanding how people communicate on the internet—in a way, anything posted on a message board, even when posted in direct response to another’s text, is incorporating this “sideways glance” at the third parties who are also privy to that text by means of the message board on which it is situated.