Western Contemporaries Research Articles

Structuralism, contextualism, dialogism

SummaryIn the 1930s lexical semantics came under the influence of Saussurean structuralism and Gestalt psychology. The study of whole lexical fields and the structure of these fields replaced a historical semantics focusing on single words and the classification of the transitions between the meanings of these words over time according to different sets of criteria. At the same time contextualism, the study of meaning in its pragmatic context of language use, began to attract the attention of linguists, philosophers, and psychologists of language. Fully aware of the emergence of structuralism and contextualism, Volo‰inov and Baxtin began to develop their theories of meaning, society and literature, later called dialogism. All three movements dealt with the relativity of meaning, as relativity in a semantic field, as relativity in social context, and as relativity in social interaction and dialogue. This article demonstrates how, in a sometimes hidden dialogue with their Western contemporaries, Valentin Nikolaeviã Volo‰inov (1895–1936) and Mixail Mixajloviã Baxtin (1895–1975) developed new ‘relativistic’ theories of meaning, novel theories of pragmatics (speech acts), and modern theories of verbal interaction.

Sugar, Technology, and Colonial Encounters: Refashioning the Industry in the Netherlands Indies, 1800–1942

The argument begins with the widely accepted proposition that science and technology had a crucial part to play in the legitimisation of Western colonialisms in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It then sets out to examine the implications of this in terms of the interaction of science, technology and the commodity production of cane sugar in Asia’s largest and best‐known sugar colony — the Netherlands Indies (Indonesian) island of Java. It demonstrates that cane sugar in Java was indeed the site of technological revolution and of a scientific approach to production which Western contemporaries saw as asserting their superiority over, and justifying their domination of, the East. From a broadly postcolonial perspective, the colonial binaries inherent in discourse of this kind were a good deal more ambiguous than its contemporary practitioners were inclined to allow. Indeed, a discourse which seems otherwise to have been Manichaean in the severity of its social distinctions, was significantly subverted by the collateral existence of fissures within the apparent monolith of an industrial structure based on Western technology and science. That structure was not self‐sustaining, and although it was possible to marginalise the once‐dominant Asian element in the industry, Java sugar nonetheless had to accommodate within its managerial and technical structure large numbers of people of part‐European, part‐Asian ethnic background. It did this by accepting a colonial construction of the European which was particular to Java, and which embraced large numbers of Eurasians as well as Dutch expatriates. The language of difference, inherent in the notion of a Manichaean divide, rested, in short, on a kind of discursive counterfeit, which was an indispensable condition for the persistence of scientific and technological production.

Hong Kong: The Road to 1997 (review)

Reviewed by: Hong Kong: The Road to 1997 Danny S. L. Paau (bio) Roger Buckley. Hong Kong: The Road to 1997. Cambridge (England) and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997. xxi, 232 pp. Hardcover, ISBN 0-521-47008-0. Paperback, ISBN 0-521-46979-1. Roger Buckley states that this book is a "survey" by an "outsider" for "other outsiders" (p. xvi). He promises first to provide a summary history of and an accounting for Hong Kong's metamorphosis from an obscure fishing village into a major business hub, and second to "offer estimates" on the fate of the former British colony after reunification (p. xvi). "Synthesizing" the findings of authors of existing academic works (p. xiii), Buckley has done a fair job of delivering on his first promise. Critics, to be sure, may argue whether too much credit is given to the foresight of the British governors and the efficiency of their administrations. In any case, distrusting China as he does (like many other contemporary Western observers), Buckley's "fortune-telling" for Hong Kong is hampered by his inability to understand China's policy priorities or the complexity of Hong Kong-related issues in spite of his having lived there for a year. He has clearly made an effort to understand, from the way he appears to have consulted many relevant sources, but whether he could effectively have utilized Chinese-language sources as well is less certain. Although there is already an abundance of literature on Hong Kong's success, its assumed imminent doom, or the now obsolete Patten-China confrontations, Buckley's year in Hong Kong does seem to have made some difference in his ability to contribute to this literature, and his book still has its deserved place. To begin with, unlike many who have stopped just short of voicing their opposition to Hong Kong's reversion (although he does display a similar fear and distrust of China), he is nonetheless able to offer observations that are more balanced than can be found in other books on Hong Kong. Buckley attributes Hong Kong's phenomenal success to British "arms," "voices," and "administrators" (p. 167) and even to the "Victorian ethos" (p. xvii), rather than to the usually credited Confucian ethics. Yet he is one of few who is able to see, and dare to speak out on, what has been obvious all along—that during their tenure, the British repeatedly neglected opportunities for implementing either democracy or autonomy in Hong Kong. He bluntly points to the fact that, until the very end, Hong Kong remained no more than "a British colony," and that "it serves no historical purpose to disguise this reality" (p. 165). Buckley mercilessly brushes aside all the diplomatic language that may have been used to justify or whitewash this delay of democracy and autonomy under British rule, and dismisses the loudly heralded changes implemented on the eve of the changeover as "largely cosmetic" (p. 166). [End Page 392] Like many of his Western contemporaries, Buckley distrusts China and predicts no brighter future for Hong Kong after its reversion. He laments that in spite of the change of masters, its colonial status will continue "against its volition" (p. xii). Also, like his fellow Westerners, Buckley believes that salvation for Hong Kong means either independence or autonomy. He refers to Hong Kong as a "local state" (p. 180) or a "city-state" (p. xii). Cynical readers may marvel at his enthusiasm for independence for Hong Kong after already admitting that he has found that "no internal demand for independence" has arisen there (p. 170). He worries about "an overly strong Chinese state presence" and frequent "oblique suggestions from the North" (p. 180), yet he does not seem to mind that Hong Kong will continue to "leave its domestic administration in safe expatriate hands" instead of those of the Hong Kong people (p. 173)! Perhaps Buckley differs most from other Western commentators on Hong Kong in his pragmatic attitude toward China, and in his readiness to offer the people of Hong Kong advice as opposed to rhetoric. He does not, for example, advocate confrontation, struggle, or nonacceptance of change since he realizes that "China and Chinese power...

Everyday Things in Premodern Japan: The Hidden Legacy of Material Culture

Japan was the only non-Western nation to industrialize before 1900 and its leap into the modern era has stimulated vigorous debates among historians and social scientists. In an innovative discussion that posits the importance of physical well-being as a key indicator of living standards, Susan B. Hanley considers daily life in the three centuries leading up to the modern era in Japan. She concludes that people lived much better than has been previously understood - at levels equal or superior to their Western contemporaries. She goes on to illustrate how this high level of physical well-being had important consequences for Japan's ability to industrialize rapidly and for the comparatively smooth transition to a modern, industrial society. While others have used income levels to conclude that the Japanese household was relatively poor in those centuries, Hanley examines the material culture - food, sanitation, housing, and transportation. How did ordinary people conserve the limited resources available in this small island country? What foods made up the daily diet and how were they prepared? How were human wastes disposed of? How long did people live? Hanley answers all these questions and more in an accessible style and with frequent comparisons with Western lifestyles. Her methods allow for cross-cultural comparisons between Japan and the West as well as Japan and the rest of Asia. They will be useful to anyone interested in the effects of modernization on daily life.

Lightning Wires: The Telegraph and China's Technological Modernization, 1860-1890

Reviewed by: Lightning Wires: The Telegraph and China’s Technological Modernization, 1860–1890* J. Robert Selman (bio) Lightning Wires: The Telegraph and China’s Technological Modernization, 1860–1890. By Erik Baark. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1997. Pp. xii+216; illustrations, notes, bibliography, index. $69.50. Erik Baark, of the Technical University of Denmark, describes in the preface to Lightning Wires how, as a student of Chinese language and history, he found himself almost at the outset becoming interested in telegraphy. As part of his M.Phil. thesis research, he had to catalog the letters in Chinese mixed in with other correspondence in the archives of the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He found to his amusement that they contained numerous complaints about the telegraph and its harmful effects, and his book makes clear why. In the period 1870–90, China, Denmark, and telegraphy were connected in ways of which only a few students of history may nowadays be aware. In the race for telegraph connections from Europe to the Far East, either via Russia or via India and Singapore, the Great Northern Telegraph Company, established in 1869 by the farsighted Danish banker C. F. Tiegten, played a very important role. Its agents in the Chinese treaty ports were the pioneers of this technology in the extremely reluctant China of the late Qing dynasty. “We have examined the application of techniques for sending [information] via copper wires in China, and found that they are extremely inconvenient; therefore, they can never be introduced.” Thus wrote Prince Gong, chief of the Zongli Yamen (Council on Foreign Relations) at the Qing court, in 1865 to the Russian Minister in Beijing. This was the official response to repeated entreaties to allow a Russian company to construct a telegraph line between Siberia and Beijing. With characteristic ambiguity, his letter continued “Now we have received Your Excellency’s communication stating that if other countries in the future are granted permission to establish [lines] with this technique, your country should be allowed to become the first. Let this be granted!” [End Page 671] Baark shows how this preemptive quasi-concession was then voided in a twenty-year history of deliberation and postponement. Resolute Danish or British entrepreneurs tried to create a fait accompli by surreptitiously constructing telegraph lines between Wusong (at the mouth of the Jiangtse) and Shanghai, and later in Fujian province. These attempts were first sabotaged by the peasant population and local officials, but eventually helped by Chinese businessmen and local officials. The dilemma created by these “facts on the ground” and the early quasi-concession eventually forced the government to choose the lesser evil: accept the telegraph but control it (or try to control it), and reluctantly start educating some of its people to manage the new technology. In returning to the discovery of his student days, Baark does more than unearth in detail a sometimes amusing episode in which the Danes are found to be abetting nineteenth-century Western expansionism in China. His objective is to illuminate the process of technology transfer and acceptance from the perspective of both Chinese and Western contemporaries. He succeeds well in this task, which requires penetrating through notions of cultural superiority (on the Chinese side as well as the other), linear progress (on the Western side), and the Chinese view of history as cyclic. One might object that the Chinese perspective presented in his book is, after all, pretty much a political one, distilled from Chinese government documents and the known facts of nineteenth-century Chinese history. For example, the disastrous Taiping rebellion (1850–64), which the government had only recently overcome with foreign military help (assisted by the telegraph), arose from and galvanized the peasant population so strongly that, without a doubt, it was a powerful motivator for the Qing court to oppose the telegraph. This military tool, if allowed to become a means of impersonal mass communication, was politically “extremely inconvenient.” But equally, the court was aware that the telegraph had contributed mightily to the military strategy by which the foreign military finally quelled the rebellion. This ambiguity pervaded all official reactions to the “lightning wires.” It is understandable that the author’s perspective emphasizes this...

Une histoire de l’art japonais en 1883. L’œil de Louis Gonse

A History of Japanese Art, as seen through Louis Gonse’s Eye. The late 19th century in France was marked by the introduction of several thousands of objects of Japanese origin. Numerous private collections came into being at this time ; numerous books and articles were published on this subject. But a decisive step was made in the knowledge of Japanese art, in 1883, when the historian and art critic, Louis Gonse decided to publish (in collaboration with the Japanese) a first scientific work on the history of Japanese art : L’art japonais. This publication marked a clear rupture with earlier works — mainly, descriptions of travelers and ornamental grammar books — because it placed the accent on the « japonité » of the Japanese, and, also, because the author challenged the ethnocentric behavior and prejudice of his Western contemporaries, vis-à-vis, Japanese art. Thanks to Louis Gonse, in the West, Japanese objects of art were granted a highly honorable status. L’art japonais, which may seem, today, wholly obsolete, is an extremely interesting publication that allows the reader to understand what, during the 1880’s, was the image that the West projected on Japanese art, as well as the Japanese of ancient Japan, such as the Japan of Meiji.

The search for Samojloff: a Russian physiologist in times of change.

The names of Russian physicians do not often spring to mind when recalling the advances of the past century, though a quick glance discloses many contributions, including those of Anitschkow in the pathogenesis of arteriosclerosis, Korotkoff in the measurement of blood pressure, and Elie Metchnikoff, the bacteriologist. Few, however, realise that James Herrick's diagnosis of coronary occlusion in the living patient1 had been anticipated by two years by two physicians from Kiev, Obrastzow and Straschesko. Their original description in Russki Vrach was republished almost simultaneously in German and was cited by Herrick.2 Even before this, however, a Russian physiologist, Alexander Filipovich Samojloff, had written the first book on electro cardiography, which should have been easily accessible to Western physicians because it was written in German and had been issued by a leading German publisher.3 The book is not, however, listed in two important EngUsh bibliographies,45 though it and several other publications by Samojloff were cited by Western contemporaries, and his contributions are proudly acknowledged in the Soviet Union. Who was Samojloff and what was his role in Russian and indeed international physiology?

The Music of Edison Denisov

At a time when scarcely any Soviet composer of the post-war generation had been heard of, let alone heard, in this country, it was quite a coup for the 1967 Brighton Festival to have been able to present a performance of Sun of the Incas by Edison Denisov—and this only three years after the work was composed. Rough and ready as the Brighton performance undoubtedly was (with poorly cued parts and too little rehearsal time), it was readily apparent to performers and audience alike that this was no safe, middle-of-the-road music, but the work of a forward-looking composer with a voice of his own as distinctive as that of any of his western contemporaries. The same audience would certainly have been astonished to know that Denisov—like other now distinguished Soviet composers of the same generation—had been totally cut off from the literature of non-Russian 20th-century music in its entirety until the late 1950's: not a hint of any of the historic musical events of our time had been allowed to reach them—not even of the developments in pre-1914 Vienna. In Denisov's case it is still more surprising to learn that his own early environment had denied him the experience of music of any kind.

Turgenev's Aesthetic and Western Realism

IN THE PRESENT paper I seek to summarize Turgenev's aesthetic ideas with a view to their application in his art, and confront them with the ideas of those of his Western contemporaries with whom his name is most often associated: the group of realists who in the 1870s used to gather around Flaubert on Sunday afternoons. A catalog of them is given in Guy de Maupassant's etude, Gustave Flaubert.' The more important of them were (in the order in which they appear in Maupassant's sketch) Hippolyte Taine, Alphonse Daudet, iAmile Zola, Edmond de Goncourt. I add one name not listed by Maupassant (who, of course, was one of those present), Henry James. Significantly, Turgenev himself is listed as the very first arrival. Shared artistic preferences were, no doubt, the principal reason why these writers sought each other's company. Paul Bourget, who points this out,2 also draws attention to some more general attitudes shared by Turgenev and his friends-a certain cosmopolitanism, a thoroughgoing pessimism and taedium vitae,3 and a tendency toward analyticism and psychological introspection. As to the last trait, both Turgenev and Flaubert would have themselves refused to acknowledge it.4 But the evidence is on hand-Turgenev wrote his Diary of A Superfluous Man and other similar pieces long before Dostoevskij produced his Notes fromt the Underground. There are some differences also. For example, Flaubert is a determined opponent of postivism (and

Harappan Outposts on the Makran Coast

The widespread remains of the Indus Valley or Harappan civilization—contemporaneous in part with the great civilizations of Mesopotamia and Egypt—present at first glance a picture of sterile isolationism. Yet none of the great civilizations of the world originated or thrived in a cultural and economic vacuum. There are, in fact, certain material indications of contact between the Harappans and their western contemporaries? Also, there is a strong Mesopotamian seafaring tradition attested to in cuneiform economic documents and mythological literature. The discovery of Indus type stamp seals in southern Mesopotamia and the Persian Gulf area suggested that at least part of the Mesopotamian seafaring activities were directed toward the east. The identification, some thirty years ago, of the Makran Coast site of Sutkagen-dor as a Harappan settlement added further weight to the probability of sea contacts between the Indus and the West.

Sivaji as Known to his Western Contemporaries

Sivājī occupies so prominent a place in the history of the Marathas that many European and Indian writers have made him the subject of their study and works. Among writers in English we are especially indebted to five: Eobert Orme, official historian to the East India Company; James Grant Duff; H. G. Eawlinson; C. A. Kincaid and D. B. Parasnis; Jadunath Sarkar.