Though Gregory Ulmer and his book Electronic Monuments are still enigmas, there are a few interesting things in Part II of the book called “Make it New(s)” that I understood, at least superficially.
One of the first (and most useful) things that Ulmer discusses in this second section is what exactly constitutes the MEmorial, which is significantly important since our groups in class are supposed to be creating our own MEmorials. One of the things that I’ve noticed about Ulmer is his love for the “puncept” and the need to deconstruct words constantly while reading his text. Interestingly, the name he gives to this is, paradoxically, a puncept. Puncepts, deconstructed, are puns + concepts. Once the reader realizes the importance of the puncept to Ulmer’s writing, he or she can begin to deconstruct the MEmorial. Of course, MEmorial is easily deconstructed into a me + memorial, but Ulmer’s description of the MEmorial doesn’t exactly explain where the “me” comes into play. Ulmer begins his discussion by explaining that “a MEmorial consists of two parts: a peripheral (proposal for an electronic device to be placed at the site of an existing monument associating it with an abject sacrifice) and a testimonial (a Web site representing a meditation on the abject sacrifice)” (57). Have read Kristeva in passing, I am superficially aware of the abject (which she discusses in relation to vomit, and Ulmer brings up in passing). Ulmer, however, describes the abject in simplier terms. He writes that a “MEmorial[s] function [is] of calling attention to abject (unacknowledged) sacrifices” (57). This makes sense in terms of Kristeva’s abject example of vomit… we certainly do not like to acknowledge that. Furthermore, and I’m sure Ulmer recognized this and used it to his advantage, Kristeva’s understanding of the abject refers to the human reaction to a threatened breakdown of meaning caused by a loss of distinction between the subject and the object or between self and other. (I’m not sure how to cite this… it was in my notes, but there’s no mention of who said it.)
This understanding of the abject moves into Ulmer’s forth chapter, “Transversal (Into Cyberspace)” and his discussion of “transsexuality.” Before getting into that discussion, I’d like to try to tie in his writing about the simulacrum in which he writes “in the spectacle[,] original and copy merge, rendering moot most models of literate truth . . .” (85). Though the original sentence has no comma, I read and understand it as having one. I’m not sure if this is correct, but either way, I find this to be true and believe that in the MEmorial, abject and spectacle are similar concepts. I found Ulmer’s discussion of Dog Day Afternoon and Pierre Huyghe’s The Third Memory to be profoundly interesting following this understanding of the abject and the understanding of truth, which has frequently been called into question in Ulmer’s book. In his discussion of The Third Memory, Ulmer notes that John Wojitowicz (the “real” bank robber”) has seen Dog Day Afternoon—the retelling of Wojitowicz’s robbery. In The Third Memory, Huyghe examines the reactions of Wojitowicz’s recounting of the robbery after his relase. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell what was real and what was fiction as the “real” robber went through the re-telling. He’d seen the film. Was he acting out his real actions or the actions he’d seen on the film? Did he even know the difference? Furthermore, as Ulmer quotes Daniel Birnbaum: “The situation is complicated: Not only were Wojtowicz’s looks compared to Pacino’s in the press at the time of the robbery, but it was Pacino, along with Marlon Brando, who provided the fictional model for how to be a crook” (90). This problematic issue regarding memory is further fleshed out in Martia Sturken’s discussion of Film as Memorial. She writes: “The personal memories of Vietnam veterans are merged with the cultural memories produced by documentary images of the war and the reinscribed in narrative cinematic representations that make claims to history” (100). If this is the case, then what is history? His/story… Is there one true history or is it a collection of the stories we’re told about it. Do we actually remember anything? Ulmer notes that “the history of writing shows that the experience of reading a text to oneself produced an experience of self-awareness that eventually produced the behavior and identity formation of self” (99). If writing produced the self, then has writing produced history? It seems that both exist in some form or another without writing or reading, but that the understanding of both are formed through those two tasks. Though I don’t have enough space to discuss it here, I’m always interested in sexuality and gender, and wonder if our writing about the two have created them as well? (I know for a fact that homosexuality is a construct of language… before the 1800s, there was no such thing. The act existed of course, but not the concept.) I think that, as we learned in class, Ulmer’s book will never be able to be summed up in 800 words…
Questions
Is there a true “history” that exists outside of the mind or is history literally his-story?
If history is HIStory, then how does this play into gender constructs and sexism?
Could transgendered people be considered an abject sacrifice to gender constructs?
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