To “act, speak, write, and think otherwise”, in Professor Alexis Gumbs’ words, is harder and more powerful than it might appear at first glance. Sylvia Wynter’s “Ethno or Socio Poetics” seems to invite the reader to perform just this magic, with an emphasis on both the “other” and the “wise”. I’ll land lightly and momentarily, like dust, on a few wonderings inspired by this piece:
1. Wynter traces the etymology of the “ethnic ” to the “other”, and therefore “ethnopoetics” to “other-poetry”, crucially and painstakingly distinguished from poetics, true poetics, “eupoetics”, i.e. normal, universal (Western) poetics.
2. Wynter describes the “other” as “wise”. She points to a form of cognition that both precedes and exceeds what she calls classical Western thought (hm?) and its will to dominate nature (as she exemplifies through a passage by Descartes). I find this claim somewhat dubious (I believe that certain kinds of knowing are accessible to people with the languages and lives capacious enough to hold those knowings, but I don’t believe that these knowings can be cleaved neatly along “First World”-”Third World” lines, as Wynter seems to suggest)–however, I am intrigued by Wynter’s conception of this way of knowing, a poetic way of knowing, which seems to be wisdom’s kin.
3. Wynter points to two different (but related?) others: the “other” as a negative term–the alien/subordinate/servant/inferior/primitive in need of civilization and needed by the (broadly) “Western” self as a confirmation of its (natural/cultural) superiority–and the “other” as a positive term–the being who interrupts dangerous homogeneity, the being who acts/speaks/writes/thinks OtherWise. The ”other” is, in Wynter’s conception, a victim and a troublemaker.
4. “Western civilization” as such is both continuous with and radically distinct from its own past, and from the past of the rest of humanity, Wynter seems to claim. Wynter is clearly not triumphalist in her descriptions of what makes the West exceptional–she points to its comodification of humanity itself as its distinguishing feature, and not in laudatory terms. Though, again, I’m suspicious (with Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak) of “too easy ‘West-and-the-rest’” conceptions–what fascinates me are Wynter’s ideas about continuity and rupture. Is the “other” not a being as strange as Western civilization–both completely continuous with its past (and its present society), and radically discontinuous with it?
5. Back to etymology: Wynter traced the original (the “for real for real”?) etymology of ethnos (via George Quasha) to the Indo-European “seu” or “self”, “us”, “we”, “the people”. I love the people. I love the we, and am happy to be part of the we. And when I think of the We with no Other, I feel simultaneous elation and dread. I want, more than anything, a We that holds together, like threads in cloth or roots in soil, enough to end the horrifying violence that “Selves” inflict upon “Others”. I also want an Other who will always be capable of speaking OtherWise. I think I can imagine, with Wynter, a We that does not need an Other to exist. What I can’t imagine, however, is a We that wouldn’t benefit–albeit, perhaps in an annoyed, exhausted way–from an Other who playfully prodded it, like a child or a clown. The Other is dangerous. The Other is constantly created to be destroyed. The Other is wrong. The Other is wise. These things are true all at once.
From these ideas, I come to a single question, the starting of poem, or perhaps its form: Is OtherWise a language? If it is, can we learn to speak it? Can I learn to speak it?
alexis said,
September 15, 2007 at 7:50 pm
Peace Kriti,
Thanks so much for all the thought that’s here. On the “west and the rest” thing I definitely agree with you and Spivak that the lines are not so easy to draw (I think that Sylvia’s post resonates with this too)…but I actually think that Wynter agrees with us too. Wynter’s whole critique of that which has been defined as “western” and “human” is that it depends on a binary right? My reading was that she was not validating that binary in her talk, but rather pointing to the way that everyone is conscripted into this definition of the human due to a relationship between objects. The “other” is not always being the “other”…as Spivak convinces me privilege operates in a number of ways and a definition of the human can be deployed differentially. In other words…Wynter is pointing to a “relation” right? Not a set of places or even a group of people.
The thing I love about your post is the way that you identify with and affirm this figure of the trouble-making other. The way you write about it makes me think of the diety Eshu at the crossroads. The other is wise…and difference remains. But the role of the other is…as you say always a shifting one. So what is the philosophy of difference that allows us to share otherness generously? Maybe Audre Lorde knows.
love,
Prof. Lex
tpll said,
September 28, 2007 at 1:13 pm
Once again, K-Sharma, over-wowed by your brilliance:
————–
Wynter traced the original (the “for real for real”?) etymology of ethnos (via George Quasha) to the Indo-European “seu” or “self”, “us”, “we”, “the people”. I love the people. I love the we, and am happy to be part of the we. And when I think of the We with no Other, I feel simultaneous elation and dread. I want, more than anything, a We that holds together, like threads in cloth or roots in soil, enough to end the horrifying violence that “Selves” inflict upon “Others”. I also want an Other who will always be capable of speaking OtherWise. I think I can imagine, with Wynter, a We that does not need an Other to exist. What I can’t imagine, however, is a We that wouldn’t benefit–albeit, perhaps in an annoyed, exhausted way–from an Other who playfully prodded it, like a child or a clown. The Other is dangerous. The Other is constantly created to be destroyed. The Other is wrong. The Other is wise. These things are true all at once.
————
Beautiful, as you would say – how do we create a ‘we’ that has no other, or at the very least does not rely on an oppressed other as a dual opposite in its creation? I think maybe that is what we might could search for in the right now, this idea of how do we break down the different parts of the current ‘we’ that rely on this oppressive ‘other’ target, but keep the wonderful pieces of our different ‘we’ and then somehow work towards some kind of diverse plurality of we-ness. I think this makes some sense, at least I think it will to you.
I also love your idea of holding onto the revolutionary other even as we seek to create the collective we. Though I suspect if we succeed in creating the we beyond our wildest dreams, there will still be some other we crews out there who definitely need some othering . . . rhymes with mothering, interesting . . .
When I think of community and threads and roots, it’s absolutely that same metaphor you rock out on . . . like threads in cloth or roots in soil, enough to end the horrifying violence that “Selves” inflict upon “Others” . . . and I think about first steps, around relationships and organizing and community, but also how centrally important the process of creating this new ‘we’ ethnos poetry is in to getting to that point. It’s helped me understand more deeply that our writing, and artistic reponses and re-claiming of spaces is not just one of many things we do, but actually revolutionary and fundamental to most everything else. It helps me think too about the kinds of spaces and homes and yards that await re-invention and creation upon our return to the Bull City. I hope you can be a part of that.
tpll said,
September 28, 2007 at 1:13 pm
Once again, K-Sharma, over-wowed by your brilliance:
————–
Wynter traced the original (the “for real for real”?) etymology of ethnos (via George Quasha) to the Indo-European “seu” or “self”, “us”, “we”, “the people”. I love the people. I love the we, and am happy to be part of the we. And when I think of the We with no Other, I feel simultaneous elation and dread. I want, more than anything, a We that holds together, like threads in cloth or roots in soil, enough to end the horrifying violence that “Selves” inflict upon “Others”. I also want an Other who will always be capable of speaking OtherWise. I think I can imagine, with Wynter, a We that does not need an Other to exist. What I can’t imagine, however, is a We that wouldn’t benefit–albeit, perhaps in an annoyed, exhausted way–from an Other who playfully prodded it, like a child or a clown. The Other is dangerous. The Other is constantly created to be destroyed. The Other is wrong. The Other is wise. These things are true all at once.
————
Beautiful, as you would say – how do we create a ‘we’ that has no other, or at the very least does not rely on an oppressed other as a dual opposite in its creation? I think maybe that is what we might could search for in the right now, this idea of how do we break down the different parts of the current ‘we’ that rely on this oppressive ‘other’ target, but keep the wonderful pieces of our different ‘we’ and then somehow work towards some kind of diverse plurality of we-ness. I think this makes some sense, at least I think it will to you.
I also love your idea of holding onto the revolutionary other even as we seek to create the collective we. Though I suspect if we succeed in creating the we beyond our wildest dreams, there will still be some other we crews out there who definitely need some othering . . . rhymes with mothering, interesting . . .
When I think of community and threads and roots, it’s absolutely that same metaphor you rock out on . . . like threads in cloth or roots in soil, enough to end the horrifying violence that “Selves” inflict upon “Others” . . . and I think about first steps, around relationships and organizing and community, but also how centrally important the process of creating this new ‘we’ ethnos poetry is in to getting to that point. It’s helped me understand more deeply that our writing, and artistic responses and re-claiming of spaces is not just one of many things we do, but actually revolutionary and fundamental to most everything else. It helps me think too about the kinds of spaces and homes and yards that await re-invention and creation upon our return to the Bull City. I hope you can be a part of that.
tpll said,
September 28, 2007 at 1:14 pm
Oops. Please delete the 1st one. And this one.
Alexis Pauline Gumbs said,
October 12, 2007 at 1:42 pm
lovely rhyme theo!
Gaucho said,
June 19, 2008 at 4:20 am
Somehow i missed the point. Probably lost in translation
Anyway … nice blog to visit.
cheers, Gaucho.