Although I’m tempted, this blog is neither the space nor occasion for a novel-length entry systematically analyzing Warner’s ideas. My Labrador has this hilarious reaction of cocking her head sideways with one ear nearly vertical, when hearing a sound she doesn’t recognize. In lieu of the analysis swimming around my head, let me offer a discussion of moments that caused me to tip my head sideways.
Warner writes, “To address a public, we don’t go around saying the same thing to all these people. We say it in a venue of indefinite address and hope that people will find themselves in it” (59). Warner is comparing the circulating types of public address to gossip. Gossip usually doesn’t seek to expand its social circle; when it does it often has detrimental results. Public address, on the other hand, continually seeks to reach the ears of listeners who lend it attention, relate to its message, and thus expand its referential public. The type of discourse implemented then, must be open-ended enough so a wide audience can relate, but specific enough so it distinguishes itself according to the intentions and ethic of the public for which it stands. I questioned how we go about attracting individuals by using different rhetorical techniques and methods. How do publics fine-tune discourse so it attracts a specific type of people—those who will stand behind their message? Further, how does one write these types of public addresses without alienating the other percentage that is not the intended target audience? Is it possible to compose in such a way that invites certain types of people while not uninviting others? Ironically, publics are both strong and delicate structures. The people that give a public life and agency are united and strengthened by the circulating discourse, but the discourse relies on the individuals to read, spread, and compose it. I cannot answer the chicken-and-egg question, because as Warner writes, “A public might be real and efficacious, but its reality lies in just this reflexivity by which an addressable object is conjured into being in order to enable the very discourse that gives it existence” (51).
Come again?
It would seem that publics and their referential discourse are inextricably tired; one cannot exist without the other. What does this mean for their origin? I am curious to explore, particularly by analyzing historical archives, where the emergence points for publics begin. Where do we see them starting? What precipitated their official “publicness”? I keep imagining someone saying, “We were just a group of friends who shared and discussed similar views [i.e., an enclave public], and then Connie started writing and publishing and next thing we knew people wanted to join us; we were a public!” I would imagine often times the discourse precedes the people. That is, an individual writes a piece of text, which unites individuals around the message and likewise around other, and kick starts the cyclical motion of a public. So many thoughts…
Okay, a few ending thoughts. Warner writes, “Talk value has an affective quality. You don’t just mechanically repeat signature catchphrases. You perform through them your social placement. Different social styles can be created through different levels of reflexivity in this performance” (73). On the topic of identity development in publics, every individual expresses and locates themselves through their stance and relationship to the circulating discourse. Therefore, it is not only what an individual says, but their corresponding relationship to the public addresses that distinguishes them rhetorically and shapes their discursive identity.
Also, “The discourse of a public is a linguistic form from which the social conditions of its own possibility are in large part derived” (75). That is, how they speak empowers what they can do.
Warner leaves us with a dense amount of information on which to ruminate, and I am sure his observations and theories will continue to apply throughout the course of this class (if not our lives at large.)
I love the questions about rhetoric that you’re asking here: “How do publics fine-tune discourse so it attracts a specific type of people—those who will stand behind their message? Further, how does one write these types of public addresses without alienating the other percentage that is not the intended target audience? Is it possible to compose in such a way that invites certain types of people while not uninviting others?” In fact that “not uninviting” must be one of the keys to making a counterpublic gain some kind of larger public’s attention, yes? And you can see an element of the conundrum you mentioned in your comments for class yesterday: what if the discourse is so “not uninviting” that the original invitees start refusing to accept it? Of course some counterpublics (and publics) must also contain in their address specific “un-invitations” that mark them discursively apart from – often in an aggressive way – from other publics, and sometimes those same publics (and counterpublics) have to learn how to stop doing that, how to “invite” the previously “uninvited.”
ReplyDeleteYou say, “Therefore, it is not only what an individual says, but their corresponding relationship to the public addresses that distinguishes them rhetorically and shapes their discursive identity.” Couldn’t you argue that it’s shaping more than their discursive identity? Or, would you suggest that the term “identity” must always have an implied “discursive” in front of it, that an “identity” is inherently discursive?