The "daily reminder" as genre

Over on Twitter, I've assumed the identity of a cheerleader as a function of my participation in the debate over Brexit. Placed squarely on the sideline, I try to cheer those on the fields by doing remarkable poses, yells and dance moves to that effect. In the cheerleader-role, I've been running what I call my "daily reminder". Each day I post

"This is your daily reminder that you have millions of friends and allies in the EU."

And then I add some new remark which I feel—for whatever reason—is fitting for the day. Usually these are fairly upbeat; as fits the point of the reminder (see below), but they don´t have to be wholly without teeth.

A ”reminder”, Merriam-Webster usefully reminds us, is “something that calls a memory or thought to the mind”. Our spouse can remind us to remember the car keys, or we can remind ourselves to call the mayor before sunset. The reminder, thus has a clear social and cognitive function, it returns information to us that we might need for one reason or another. The reminder also has a negative side of course, it can bring back memories we’d rather keep away. “The sight of Marie in the crowd was an unwelcome reminder to Lucy of love lost”. However, there is a recurrent element between the two: the reminder aligns the mind with reality; brings back something that for whatever reason, had been pushed in the background. That is the function of the genre.

How about the daily reminder? Well, going by what has already been written it must be something important that tends to get lost or steps into the background every day, and which should be brought to the foreground again. (BTW: I DuckDuckGo’ed “daily reminder”; there’s a lot of motivational claptrap coming up; stay on this channel – don´t google it either; it’s probably even worse.) So, the “daily” reminder has to be there, because something gets lost and lost and lost and lost.

In the case at hand, there are many things that tend to get lost in the brouhaha of the Brexit debate, and many things one might want to use as a daily reminder. For me, one of those most close at hand is the fact that Brexit is an utterly pointless exercise. There is no necessity in it. It is voluntary; an unforced choice of something immensely damaging. And when you look at the consequences of Brexit, the question arises: why do this? This very important banality tends to get lost in the daily exchanges and thus could need a reminder. It’s a little harsh, but many people who have spent time in therapy know, that a hash fact stubbornly held on to can be quite healing. 

However, I chose another daily reminder, “that you have millions of friends and allies in the EU”. Why? First of all, because in a crisis like this with tempers flaring and fates, futures, and lives at stake, there is less kindness to go around than needed. I can’t vote, I can’t demonstrate, I can’t even sign the central petitions. I can, however, show a little kindness. And every day, someone seems to need it. It would take me a long time to count the number of times someone has expressed that they needed exactly that reminder on exactly that day. Most of the time, I don´t even know, why they need it; but they do, and I'm fine with that.

This is, in one important aspect simply reverse trolling. Just as the trolls and bots (remember to block them!!!) use your empathy to tear into people's feelings, because they know that we automatically establish a human connection around their awful utterance and treat it as if is is somehow meaningful, even when it is just hateful, I use peoples' empathy to soothe their feelings, because I know that they automatically establish a human connection around my consoling utterance and see it as meaningful, and thus put more into the words than I can. Empathy is a superpower—and can be harnessed for good.

However, there is a second—even more genre-like point: the recurrence makes the reminder move in time. You had one yesterday, and the day before that, you recognize it today, and you know it will return again tomorrow.  In my terms, you recognize it as a #genre and it works on you as such. And so, the recurrence adds power to the simple, apparently insignificant message. Just like nagging or criticism can wear you down, drip by drip, my little reminder accumulates impact, because it always returns. 

(Well, always and always. You get the point.)

It’s slightly pavlovian, of course, I am aiming for a conditioned response, but if that response is that someone smiles, feels better, and can handle what the world throws at them a little better, I’ll take it. 

NB: Again, this post was originally a twitter thread. You can see it here.

x
x

Three curious genre features of the American TV-series

 Genres are strongly habitual. As we learn to understand or perform a genre, we also learn to accept any number of conventions as normal that may or may not be rational or true. These things become naturalized to the user to such a degree that he or she can move through the genre repeatedly without ever stopping to reflect on their genre-bound conventionality. Here are three such conventions from a genre my long life as a father of small children has given me amble opportunity to experience: the American TV-series of sufficiently unchallenging character to be consumable when very tired.

The “as you know” conversation

Being about interesting people, and not just ordinary dofuses like you and me, the American TV-series frequently moves in environments permeated by experts. Given that the field in question will be a driving force in the plot of individual episodes and longer story arches, some minimal knowledge of the field is required. However, since the viewer, being in fact an ordinay dofus like you and me, cannot be expected to actually understand the field or fields of expertise involved, there is the “as you know”-conversation.

In this genre of conversation, two experts with a deep, shared, field-specific knowledge will engage in an exchange of 101-level knowledge about it. This conversation will be initiated by one of them saying, “as you know …”, or a variation thereof, to her colleague. The other person will then be nodding with encouragement and otherwise look interested in the extended explanation of stuff she knows already, and might even pitch in with a few pieces of entry-level information herself.

Curious addition: House MD omitted the "as you know" conversation from its genre register. By consequence, it's diagnostic discussions are fast-paced, energetic, agonistic, and well-nigh impossible to follow for a lay person. I love them to death, of course.

The strangely – and badly – kept secret

Contrasting genre interpretation.

In a Russian novel, if a character has personal information or even conjecture that should obviously be kept from her significant other, she will immediately storm into a dinner party where her significant other is present and shout it in his face, adding, “you are a bad person Ivan Ivanovitj, a bad and LOW person. You disgust me!” The ensuing chaos from the untimely reveal will then take up the rest of the novel.

However, in an American TV-series, if a character has personal information that should obviously be revealed immediately to his significant other, he will for some unfathomable reason decide that it is imperative that the information is kept secret. I mean, why tell your significant other that you have applied for a job in another state, have discovered a child from a liaison 12 years ago, or has been diagnosed with a crippling degenerative disorder? The secret will then obviously not be kept but instead revealed at the worst possible moment. The ensuing chaos from the aberrant decision to keep it secret in the first place, will then take up several episodes in a story arch.

The P….-moment

If you are a seventeenth century person, the thing to be is “virtuous”. If you are a modern day researcher or research application, the thing to be is “excellent”. However, if you are a character in an American TV-series, the pinnacle of achievement is to make somebody “proud”. Thus, the P….-moment. The moment occurs at emotional high point of a series. It includes high-strung feelings, and declarations about making people proud. It is expressed in sentences like,

·        “I have always been proud of you”,

·        “All I ever wanted, was to make you proud”,

·        “You have made me so proud”,

·        “Your father would have been so proud of you, if he had seen you today”, or

·        Your uncle Ben would have been so proud of you, if he had seen you today”.

(Ok, that last one is Spider Man, obviously, but you get the idea.)

Apparently, making a significant other “proud” counts as the ultimate validation of a person’s being. It means that you are an excellent person in possession of all the necessary virtues to make your life and your contribution to the world meaningful. The P.…-moment activates that validation as a tension in the plot (the “all I ever wanted”, variety), or as its crowning moment and concluding release.

All these genre features are, of course, intimately connected to the plot. And—as you know—it has been known  at least since Aristotle that the plot is at the core of a narrative text. They are all there to enable the action of the plot, as drivers, informers, motivators, and if you see them as plot devices more than anything, and recognize the enormity of the task of establishing any dynamism in a plot structure that has to move through often more than 100-episodes, they will look much less absurd. At least in this case, there’s a method to the genre convention.

I still want to know about the P....-thing, though. Why proud? What is the cultural significance of the word? Why do American characters need to make people proud more than European characters do?

Genre, Persuasion and Truth in Public Opinion

It is a commonplace in contemporary genre studies that genres are something akin to omnipresent in human culture, communication and cognition, and, thus, that we as social beings learn, think and act through genres. (More on the basic tenets of genre studies here). In research, this is usually attributed to Carolyn Miller's groundbreaking article "Genre as Social Action" (1984 - more about it here). So, given that, we must expect any large scale campaign to influence public opinion to be deeply dependent on genres. This includes any participation in a large scale debate like the UK-Brexit debate (on genre in the Brexit debate here).

However, it is worth noticing, that genre use is never automatic. There is always an individual element involved. Amy Devitt puts it this way: "genres [...] live and breathe through individual instances and interactions across and within genres". (2009, 39) So, coming from the stance of genre research we would expect to find many genres creatively used, when we search for influences on public opinon.

To this we have to add one more point: Genres are regulators too, They enable particular ways of presenting any given topic, and they allow for different variations and deviances from what would usually be considered normal communication. The vagueness of that last sentence calls into question, of course, whether such a thing as "normal" communication even exists; in particular, given that I have already said that all communication is involved with genre.

But I digress. To understand what is meant by the claim that genres allow for different variations in communication, look at the slogan in the picture below.

The slogan, encountered on the central shopping street in Copenhagen, "Strøget" is on the front of - you guessed it - an Emporio Armani shop. It juxtaposes two statments "Everyone has a different story" and "Everyone wears Emporio Armani". Interestingly, the two statements may look alike, but there is a quite crucial distinction. The first statement is obviously true, the second is obviously not true. Not everone wears Armani. If for no other reason then simply because that stuff is expensive. Even if it is the cheaper Armani brand. In fact, the point of the slogan is probably to highlight how Emporio Armani is a more price-accessible brand than Armani proper.

Does the not-true claim then mean that Emporio Armani is lying in the slogan? Not by a long shot. The genre is "commercial slogan", and it is known that the truth felicity conditions of such a slogan are different than those of other genres. So you may blame the slogan if it causes you to make bad choices in couture purchases, if the stuff is overpriced, or if the product advertised is of bad quality. But claiming that the slogan lies by saying that everone wears Emporio Armani is silly.

Moving from this back to a parallel example from attempts to influence public opinion. A very obvious example of a genre used to influence public opnion is the election or referendum promise. Now, it is obvious that the election or referendum promise is social action: It is a form of persuasion. It is also obvious that it moves between norms and creativity/variation.

The promise is normative. It can only be effective, if the voters believe that it carries a certain weight. And it has to be formed in accordance with specific genre norms in order for the voters to even recognize it as a promise. At the same time the promise is creative. It has to be new, it has to inspire a feeling strong enough to make voters vote, and it has to distinguish the person or movement making the promise from the competition. If you successfully combine the two you get a rhetorically effective promise; one which acts in the situation, one which makes voters follow you.

However, the question remains: When can an election or referendum promise be said to be fraudulent; be said to be a lie or a manipulation? In particular, since in one sense they are all manipulations: they try to make us do what the utterer want. There is no free pass like the one, I just awarded the commercial slogan. If you say something you know to be false, in an election or referendum promise, you are indeed lying.

However, there are still complications. Let me stick to just one. Those of us who live in parliamentary systems based on proportional representation, rather than on first-past-the-post, know that minority governments or coalition governments are quite common. Single-party majority governments are hard to achieve. Thus, you must compromise, and some of the compromises WILL affect the promises you made during your election campaign. And - please note - this is not lying. This is a trade-off, and an intelligent electorate (oh does such a unicorn even exist?) will know that.

Why is it not lying? Because the electorate did not give the party the political strenght to follow its promise all the way through. Let me illustrate: An amazone captain tells her general "I will conquer this city if you give me 10.000 able bodied warriors". The general gives her 5.000, she attacks, but fails to conquer the city. But the general is not entitled to say: "You are a liar. You promised me to conquer the city."

Back to politics: This does not make the election or referendum promise void after the referendum. It merely sets the question: When can a politician or a political movement feasibly be said to have followed through on a campaign promise? Often, the answer must be case by case. But I think it could be feasibly said that an election promise is false/the promiser is lying if the promise contradicts established knowledge that was available to the promiser at the time the promise was made. Also, the promiser can prove false if the electorate gives her or him the political strength to fulfill the promise, nothing radical happens to block the promise, and the promise is still not acted coherently upon.

So, for instance, the infamous BrexitBus-promise (during the UK Brexit referendum campaign 2016 (see above) fails obviously on the first point. Not only was it known that the 350 million was far too high, it was also known at the time that the gain would be more than offset by losses on other counts. Thus, Emporio Armani may not have lied, but Boris Johnson sure did. The information was available and you had to be dumber than a bag of hammers, or seriously mislead, by false promises to buy into the assumptions underpinning the promise.

A promise which after-the-fact exposed a false promiser, was the recurrent claim before the election that "leave" did not imply that the UK would leave the Single Market. It is absolutely fair to say that you became what is known in the Brexit debate as a RemainerNow (a person who voted to leave the EU, but has since changed her mind) because UK-politicians failed this promise by working actively to take the country out of the single market and even claiming that this was the will of that aberrant metaphysical entity The Will of The People.

So, indeed, genre - as well as our interpretation and use of it - plays a crucial role in the shaping of public opinion. Though few reflect upon it, we are actually quite strong genre interpreters and genre users (read more here).
This post, like the preceeding one, is based on a twitter thread. Find the original thread here.

Rhetorical genre studies for literary PhDs

A very learned friend just now asked me a pertient question of cross-disciplinary research communication. She asked:

If you were giving a reading on our rhetorical view of genres for literary doctoral students, what would you consider giving them?

That is indeed a very good question. There is no standard text and no standard curriculum to work from. So what would my curriculum look like. Leaving aside any of my own texts that might apply, this is my suggestion for a minimal reading list:

Bakhtin, M. M. (1986). The Problem of Speech Genres (V. W. McGee, Trans.). In C. Emerson & M. Holquist (Eds.), Speech Genres and Other Late Essays (pp. 60-102). Austin: University of Texas Press.

Bazerman, C. (2002). What Activty Systems Are Literary Genres Part of? Readerly/Writerly Texts, 10(1 & 2), 97-106.

Devitt, A. (2000). Integrating Rhetorical and Literary Theories of Genre. College English, 6, 698-718.

Devitt, A. (2009). Re-fusing form in genre study. In J. Giltrow & D. Stein (Eds.), Genres in the Internet (pp. 27–47). Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company.

Freadman, A. (2002). Uptake. In R. Coe, L. Lingard, & T. Teslenko (Eds.), The Rhetoric and Ideology of Genre (pp. 39-53). Cresskill Hampton Press Inc.

Miller, C. (1984). Genre as Social Action. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 70(2), 151-167.

Miller, C. (2017). "Where do Genres Come From". In C. Miller & A. R. Kelly (Eds.), Emerging Genres in New Media Environments (pp. 1-34). Cham: Palgrave Macmillan.

Paré, A. (2002). Genre and Identity: Individuals, Institutions, and Ideology. In R. Coe, L. Lingard, & T. Teslenko (Eds.), The Rhetoric and Ideology of Genre (pp. 57-71). Cresskill: Hampton Press Inc.

The list is made specifically with literary PhDs in mind. There are three main considerations involved:

1. I want my students to read texts central to the RGS-tradition
2. I want to connect to knowledge they already have
3. I want them to find their reading relevant and to stay interested

So why these texts? Here are a few of the reasons for each.

Bakhtin's text is the only text in the batch with a claim to literary studies. And his name is known to literary scholars. So it's a good way to connect the two fields. There are, of course, reasons why this text has had a long history in RGS. It is immensely inspiring and full of starting points for discussions of central points in RGS; genre use, genre variance, interlocking of genre, the lingustic basis for genre etc etc. 

Bazerman would definitely be represented by another text if I were to just teach RGS, and not RGS to literary PhDs. He, or at least one of his peers, (Russel or Andersen come to mind), should be here to represent the sociologically oriented side of RGS. I choose this one for the literary PhDs, because it deals with literary subject matter, is a quick read, and will annoy them constructively.

Devitt is the RGS researcher who has engaged most prominently with literary studies. Again: other texts might be more viable if I were to just teach RGS, but for literary PhDs I choose these two. The first, because it brilliantly represents the potential for dialogue between literary studies and RGS. (And also displays an actual interest in literature.) The second, challenges some of the basic assumptions in RGS, in a progressive and constructive way. This will accomodate some of the more critical views that a literary PhD would be likely to hold in approaching RGS, and thus open up the conversation

Freadman is quite a headache. You can´t do contemporary RGS without her concept of "uptake". And to do RGS proper you´d want to have PhDs read "Anyone for Tennis?". But getting a grip on "uptake" is hard enough, without having to actually grasp that text. The 2002-article is, of course, less of a heavyweight in terms of influence and originality, but it is much more accessible.

Miller, yeah you have to do Miller. It's just not RGS without "Genre as Social Action". So, grap those recurrent situations for a rhetorically sound definition of humble de facto genre. Then, send a loving thought to Campbell and Jamieson, and go do some social action. The 2017 text is interesting, not just because it's excellent, but also because I have had several literary colleagues recommend it to me already, so has already struc a bell with some literary reseachers. Moreover, I personally like it because Miller returns a little bit to one of my own favorite books on genre, Alastair Fowler's ultra-literary Kinds of Literature which IMHO is long overdue for a renaissance.

Finally, Paré's text. It is one of a batch of texts that work with the dangers inherent in the ideological nature of genre; the way genres control how we think and how we can act, even if this does not reflect reality, or our own best interests. There are several other options on this point, but I like this one, not just because it is a pleasant read, but also because it is very very sharp. 

So that would be my bid. Other suggestions are welcome.

Norms and creativity in genre use

In late 2015 a satiric article from The New Yorker took a turn around my SoMe circles. It was titled “Academic Job Listings for my Exes” and contains what might reasonably be described as a clash of form and content. One of the listings read:

The renowned Department of Psychology at Dartmouth College is soliciting applications for a tenure-track Associate Professor of Hypochondria. We seek a candidate with an affinity for Peter Pan shoes, extensive experience diagnosing resting bitch face, and a willingness to see other people. Teaching responsibilities include courses in Recreational Ambien Use and upper-division seminars in Neediness and/or Polyamory. Successful applicant will be expected to establish a research agenda of panic attacks, puppy-dog eyes, germaphobia, and a chronic mistrust of happiness.

 The text is, of course, an uptake (Freadman) on the genre of the job listing, it is parodic, but in keeping with the theory of parody of Linda Hutcheon it is not directed at the “high” genre that it mimics, but rather at the low material, fitted into it.

                 The uptake into this satiric article, obviously, voids the original function–and thus the original raison d´être–of the job listing genre. There are no job opening to be filled, and no place to send the application. In terms of Rhetorical Genre Studies, the job listing would usually be part of (at least) one genre set (Devitt), a genre system (Bazerman), and a genre chain (Swales) leading to the actual hiring of an applicant. No such patterns exist in this case. Or rather: The genre patterns into which these listings fit are very different and have to do with news publications rather than job hirings. Furthermore, the basic job description, and the qualifications described, are such that nobody in their right mind would ever search for a person with those rather dubious qualities. So you´d have to be a fool to take these job listings seriously–not that such fools don´t exist: There is at least one homepage dedicated to tracking people who foolishly buy into stories from the satiric news service The Onion (and its equally prankish sister site Clickhole)–and it has plenty to report.

                 However, despite the fact that there clearly is no job listing at all, the genre of the job listing is still there as a template on which the text is molded. There is the institution hiring, the actual job to be filled, and a description of the needed candidate. To specify this as an academic job offering the job listing given here also specifies the teaching obligations and the research expected of the chosen candidate. Moreover, the style, choice of words, sentence structure etc., is largely compliant with the job listing as a genre. I say “largely compliant”, of course, because some of the wording used to describe the required applicant is exactly what is off compared to the usual job listings.

                 This, of course, begs the question “why?” What is achieved by this alternate uptake on the genre of the job listing? Well, first of all we have the fundamental method and effect of almost all parody: The clash of styles. These two elements belong together: It is a method, because it is effective, and the effect usually is comical. This kind of entfremdung or making the known slightly strange as a way of making you see differently, is a mainstay of generic manipulation.

                 What you see differently is something which is usually presented in another, less formally organized genre: the rant. Each individual job listing draws a picture of a perfectly insufferable boyfriend, whose faults will make him a living nightmare to be with. However, if presented simply as a listing of the bad qualities of the boyfriend it would come off as a pitiful or aggressive rant, however the choice of an alternate genre gives it a form which makes it humerous, ironic, and even somewhat elegant.

So why the choice of the job listing? Probably because it has a certain affinity to the search for a partner. In both cases there is a sort of “open” need that can be filled by one person or another, but where the person actually chosen to fill the need will be an important presence to the employer/partner. Thus, making a viable choice is of crucial importance. Both the would-be employer and the person who searches for a partner will have certain requirements that they want to have met in order to commit to a hiring or a relationship.  Even if in the case of the search for a partner the demands are rarely made completely specific.

                 The title of the piece clearly marks the retrospective character of the job listings, they are “for my exes”, and thus there is a clash between the open character of the call on one side, and the specific person, they claim to have be molded on, on the other. By presenting the deplorable qualities of the person in the genre of the job listing, the article makes their shortcomings abundantly clear, and also exposes the stupidity of dating them. The contrast between the usual content of the genre and its actual realization in the article makes evident that nobody in their right mind would ever search for a person with those qualities. And thus even the hiring purpose of the job listing-genre, which the text so evidently discounts, has a role to play in the interpretation of it.

As is evident even from this very simple example, picked up more or less at random, the normative and the creative elements in the text intertwine, and though the text itself is some kind of generic novelty, it is clearly determined by the formal, thematic, and rhetorical character of the job listing as genre. This does not entail that the relationship between norm and creativity always follows this exact pattern, quite the opposite: The relationship is highly mutable and hard to put on a fixed formula. So it has to be examined and re-examined according to the particular context over and over.

                 To belabor my point: Genres are not, nor have they ever been, immutable. Genres have a strong regulative influence on our interpretation of a given utterance or situation. This influence, however, is of a special nature, as regulations imposed by genre can be broken at a moment’s notice or made the subject of manipulation or interpretation. Depending on the character of this break, it can lead either to an ingenious use of the genre, to a break between genre and utterance, or to a work that moves into, or even defines, an entirely different genre. Generic knowledge may not be a result of what is written “between the lines” on the lines as such; but all the necessary information certainly is not written on them either. What happens is that the text generates meaning by referring to or making a play on our structure of expectation.

                 As we move from simple examples to more complex ones, it will come as no surprise that fitting a given text into a genre becomes more and more difficult, and that the generic patterns involved become increasingly complex. However, the tacit interpretative interchanges between reader and genre persist into the more advanced cases. Indeed, in such cases the task of much scholarly interpretation becomes simply to make explicit what has in fact already been communicated tacitly. 

                 This may well be one of the great advantages of generic interpretation. By focusing on the relationship between an utterance and the kinds of utterances that it is involved with, or that have been shaping it, we highlight a central point in the communication between utterance and receiver: the textual or cultural knowledge that is assumed by the utterance to be known. This enables us to see what the text does with the assumed cultural knowledge, how it repeats it, reinterprets it, twists it, or develops it into something new.