The Humane, the Mundane, and the Future of the World

Abstract

The Humane, the Mundane, and the Future of the World Edward Friedman (bio) The last part of my title is, of course, hyperbolic, if not silly, yet we are all concerned—if not worried—about the role of the humanities in academia and in society and, more recently with regard to intensity, about the “relevance” of the humanities disciplines. In the last fifty years, we have observed what may be termed the rise of theory, a phenomenon that has had an impact on all fields within the humanities and social sciences. These days, we rarely speak of literary theory but rather of theory, or of Theory with a capital t, real or understood. A key position in the realm of theory has been held by cultural studies, broadly based and regularly featuring new approaches to history—as in the New Historicism and cultural materialism—and resoundingly interdisciplinary, as opposed to the ahistorical nature of structuralism, which may be seen as having started it all, though hardly in a vacuum. One might refer to a neo-pragmatic tenor in contemporary theory and to a special interest in the current moment. When we ponder the boundaries of Political Science, for example, we may be more inclined to focus on upcoming elections, strategies, spins, inescapable scandals, etc., than on political theory in classical antiquity, although the latter can help us to understand the former and can allow us to see that history does indeed repeat itself. And so forth. I feel certain that we understand the benefits of the humanities, but it is crucial that we convey to our “constituents” on all levels the value of a well-rounded education and the particular importance—and, yes, relevance—of our areas of expertise. It is clear that we cannot assume that this knowledge is a given. We have lost a comfort level, as it were, that previous generations of professors and professors-in-training could enjoy. In essence, we have to justify what we do—bearing in mind why we have to justify what we do—and we have to ask what we should be doing or thinking about doing differently as we “profess” our disciplines. We have to be conscious of the reigning or dominant Zeitgeist, the spirit of our age, lest we become “irrelevant,” or worse, anachronisms. Speaking of anachronisms, I will not be able to refrain from bringing my favorite novel, Don Quixote, into the picture, in the hope that it will support my case. But first, let me pose two questions that I would like to explore a bit. What can one productively learn from the study of literature? [End Page 39] And how can fiction, drama, and poetry be beneficial as objects of study and inquiry—not only aesthetically and emotionally, not that these are insignificant—but, beyond that, into the realm of practicality? Everything old may or may not be new again, but I truly believe that two of the greatest gifts of the ancient past are the complex notions that relate to rhetoric (initially the art of persuasion) and poetics (how texts are put together, that is, rules that govern and scrutinize how texts are constructed, in a somewhat baffling circuit, along the lines of chickens and eggs). Rhetoric is about language, meaning, and ways to manipulate the two, in a positive or negative manner. There are intimate ties between rhetoric and poststructuralism (and the various post-poststructuralisms), in that both give credit and credence to the function of mediation in the process of understanding, expression, and interpretation. To a substantial degree, meaning occurs between the lines, and interpretive acts naturally require interpretants: readers, spectators, listeners, and other consumers. The so-called literalists, whether they pass judgments on books (including sacred books) and on legal suits and constitutional matters (in venues as high as the Supreme Court), seem to forget that analyses and explanations are almost never self-evident. Rhetorical figures and tropes may take us in one direction and the art (and craft) of persuasion in another, yet each accentuates the power and the limits of discourse. We go about our lives looking at the world around us and trying to make sense of what...