Saturday, October 25, 2008

7. Mito

(Myth)

It might be fair to say that Wendy Doinger’s The Implied Spider is a survey in mythological methodology. Doniger asserts that the cross-cultural comparison of myths is “pragmatically possible, intellectually plausible, and politically productive” (4-5). However, this comparison comes with a caveat that I find most problematic – Doniger proposes to do all this mythological comparison sans methodological structure!

Undoubtedly, comparative work has merit. However, Doniger does not convince me of her astructural approach to comparison.

Perhaps my current studies in the issues of ethnographic method have made me partial to the structural approach, but I find that studies with no structure are messier, by far, than the inevitable outliers found in a structured comparison. In The Implied Spider, Doniger maintains that the best theory is unobtrusive. She argues that, like the rocks in an Irish stone wall, if a researcher “selects her texts carefully and places them in a sequence that tells the story she want to tell, she will need relatively little theory to explain why they belong together and what sort of argument they imply” (60).

This bottom-up method of careful (albeit random) selection is arbitrary. If a scholar is “arranging” the blocks to tell the story that he or she wants to tell, then isn’t the author’s authority and position questionable? Furthermore, this random selection provides a very busy palate from which the author is forced to pick a random pattern. Wouldn’t having some idea of what one is looking for provide some sort of direction (structure!) in which to focus – rather than a multi-focal smorgasbord of data that may or may not make sense at the end of the presentation?

The possibility of comparison between cross-cultural myths arises from, what Doniger argues, is the commonality of concerns from different cultures. “When we say that two myths from two different cultures are ‘the same’ we mean that there are certain plots that come up again and again, revealing a set of human concerns that transcend any cultural barriers, experiences that we might call cross-cultural or transcultural” (53). Doniger goes on to create a list of this ‘common human experience’ – sex, food, singing, dancing, sunrise and sunset, et cetera (53-54).

These shared experiences are the ‘spider’ that Doniger refers to in the building of myths (webs). The idea that no one subjective experience – i.e. Ali eating olives in Istanbul on March 13, 1976 while the sun was setting and the mosque prayers were ringing out in the street – can be accessed, is what makes these ‘spiders’ (experiences) implied. “I argue that we must believe in the existence of the spider, the experience behind the myth, though it is indeed true that we can never see this sort of spider at work; we can only find the webs, the myths that human authors weave” (61).

Not only does the spider metaphor come from a variety of sources, but also the lack of implication in use of the spider was very confusing to me! For instance, Doniger draws on such varied sources as Geertz and Obeyesekere, the Upanishads of the Hindu tradition, Kierkegaard, Shakespeare, linguists, and Jewish mythology. Doniger highlights this scattered sense of myth-collection, herself, when she says: “The spider is used as a metaphor for blind faith in the future. But we can use it as a metaphor for blind faith in the existence of spiders – or authors, or shared human experience, or the text” (63). This question of one’s faith in the text being shaken simply because the identity of the author cannot be ascertained, is one that was discussed extensively in class a few weeks ago. I believe that the general consensus was, that while authorial presence is important, there are certain instances in which the web matters more than the spider itself. I believe I’ve mentioned the Ramayana here before, but it bears repetition. While scholarship is consumed with figuring out whether or not the great seer Valmiki wrote the Ramayana, I am forced to question whether the mythological epic loses its potency simply because its authorial origin is unknown. Are the myths of good versus evil contained within the epic redundant merely because the spider is implied?

Doniger however, insists that an analysis of the pan-cultural meaning of a myth and its subjective application must include an appreciation for the historical contexts in which that myth is articulated. “Attention to cultural specificity is part of the Hippocratic oath of historians of religions, including mythologists” (43).

5 comments:

Nathalie LaCoste said...

Hey Roselle!

I came to a similar conclusion when reading her book about the comparative method. If you get a chance, check out what she writes on page 65 regarding the type of comparative work she is advocating as a response to the critique of comparative work as having a "lack of rigor" (64-65). I read over this section several times as it really bothered me. I feel as though it was incredibly vague.

However, that being said, I also agree that the comparative approach is not completely useless, rather it needs to be used with caution, acknowledging the pitfalls and assumptions that go along with this methodology.

Ada Chidichimo Jeffrey said...

Hey Roselle,
I like your selection of quotes, the Doniger quote on page 60 especially. In reading it I immediately react against it. Her optimistic "english wall" theory seems like a way of cloaking methodological laziness. One can't expect anything to be 'obvious' in research, least of all texts and their meanings as we've discovered!

I also don't think I buy her "careful but random" selection of texts, as if one's selections of texts is not subject to some set of assumptions and presuppositions. We all have a position, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not does not change the fact that it exists and permeates our work.

Also, Doniger's basis of comparison is plotlines. Well that's fine, but that is only one element of a story, I don't think that merely using plotlines makes your analysis 'universal', what about characters?symbols?settings? timeframe? Aren't those important parts of the story too?
(Sorry, I'm hijacking the points you raise in your blog to raise issues I have with Doniger...which truthfully, I didn't know I had until I read some of your criticism!)
Finally, I really liked your formulation of the author debate, wherein the web might be more important than the spider.
very thought-provoking blog =)

Mike Jones said...

Hey Roselle,
Excellent Blog. You made great use of the text. I’m going to play devil’s advocate here, because one of the few eras of her approach I didn’t find myself questioning was her choice in method.

I think the analogy of the English brick wall works well for her intended project. Doniger states that the third thing in the triangle of comparison is the authors own interests, intentions and curiosity, their “intellectual reason” (36). Doniger just realizes that, of course, the subject matter chosen for study by any scholar is chosen because the author is interested in it. She chooses the ‘bed trick’ because it resonates with her, and from there finds myths that correlate with her own interests. The metaphor of the brick wall fits into this. A scholar picking and choosing what interests her isn’t problematic as long as she applies some scrutiny to her selection (for example, making sure that both the story of Tamar and the story of Helena share the same themes, same rough structure etc). She has to carefully pick her stones to build up her argument, but it isn’t problematic to do an analysis of your personal interests without any explicit recourse to the theories of others.

Great work!

Anonymous said...

Hey Roselle,

I really enjoyed reading your post this week.

It was particularly interesting to read your interpretation of Doniger's method. Rather than a "sans methodological structure", I took her approach to be a multidisciplinary one (see p. 153). I'm referring to her discussion of eclecticism whereby a scholar draws from a "toolbox" of methodologies, combining them in an effort that is complementary. In chapter six, Doniger makes the case for the role of history in supplementing the "bottom-up" approach that she argues for earlier on in the book. I see this collaborative approach as a means of bridging the space left over by the limitations of particular disciplines.

After read your post, I wondered just how "random" her selection of texts really is. If Doniger aims to focus in on the ways in which myths are assigned meaning, the bottom-up approach is not a direction-less pursuit, but a productive way to use the existing methodologies without actually being married to one particular one. In this way it seems the "busy palate" of choice actually enriches and adds to her scholarly pursuit.

Great post!

Mike Jones said...

Hmm, I can't seem to edit my comments. It occurred to me that I forgot the most important part of the wall metaphor. The final 'structure' of the wall isn't problematic, it'll stand and look quite pretty. The problem is the hundreds of small, jagged, oddly shaped stones that do not fit into the authors vision of the perfect wall. Since the art of comparison requires some judgment on which themes to focus on and which to relax, chances are the wall of 'universal human experience' will be built of the stones that the author believes to be part of that experience.