Fractured Flesh
Scott Bukatman, Terminal Identity: The Virtual
Subject in Post-Modern Science Fiction, (Durham: Duke University Press,
1993).
Ken
Hillis
Terminal image - Bill Burrough's Nova Express - "the entire
planet is being developed into terminal identity and complete surrender."
Terminal identity - the birth of a new subjectivity at the interface of the body
and computer/TV screen. Within technology's increasing pervasion of conceptions
of the self comes a belief individualism can merge with technology, yet current
notions of humanity be retained.
Bukatman argues that the line between pomo academics and Science Fiction (SF)
has become exceedingly blurred. He interweaves the "science fictions" of
Baudrillard, Haraway, and Debord, with those of Gibson, Ballard and Dick,
asserting that narrative form gives way to spatialized concerns that engage our
fixation with the distances, spaces and proximities between embodied humanity
and the electronic machines invented to facilitate an individuated subjectivity
and global capital flows.
SF addresses how technology infects our being in the world, constructing "a
space of accommodation to an intensely technological existence." (p.10) SF is
the prescient mind that has first imagined the virtual world now under contract
to be built.
Bukatman argues that "our ontologies are adrift" vis-a-vis how "subjectivity"
is understood. His uncritical use of "subjectivity", along with his metaphoric
trading in the meaning of space, leads to a slippery elision between embodiment
and subjectivity, between physical instances and texts. Though the author never
explains what he means by subjectivity, following Paul Smith, I take it that
Bukatman understands the subject to have been "construed epistemologically as
the counterpart to the phenomenal object...the unified locus of the constitution
of the phenomenal world."1 With
respect to the non-problematized use of metaphors of space devolving from a
Kantian a priorization of same, geographer Neil Smith suggests that: "The
central danger in an unreflective use of spatial metaphors is that it implicitly
repeats the asymmetries of power inherent in traditional social
discourse...space is assumed as the unproblematic Other...metaphorical space
gains its richness-at the expense of material space, whose impoverishment it
reinforces."2
Although Bukatman retains a scepticism towards the deployment of electronic
technologies, he concludes that there is no "turning back". Apparently, if our
ontologies are "adrift", they float in a single (progressive) direction to that
place where we will mesh with the psychotechnologies before us, between us and
with/in us. Yet Bukatman never engages with "invention" or "cultural production"
as historical, problematic concerns, at whatever spatial scale they operate
within and/or on. To have considered cultural production as a "product" of, or
process interdependent with subjectivity would have required consideration of
whatever power individuated subjectivity retains to have done or still do things
differently.
Bukatman expresses concern for "the body", and how it will engage with VR
(Virtual Reality) technologies. He acknowledges the "flatness", hence
disembodied character (p.223), of a cyberspace that lies on the "other side" of
the interface VR technologies manifest. Yet he ignores the necessary
relationships between visual and spatial concepts, and the production of a
modern understanding of distance that results from a spatialized "view" of the
world, one that also leads to the equation of impediment=distance=space. Enter
VR as technology/commodity/ritual that magically promises to dissolve the
distance that Modernist spatial vision has first erected. In having ignored this
dynamic, one might argue Bukatman's is a deeply compromised work, fully engaged
in servicing the technologies it purports to render more transparent. Here is a
cultural worker for whom "language will comprise the "content" of the discourse
as well as determine its form." (p .30) The "world" thus created, as Bukatman
notes, prefigures and sets the stage for a world of Information, a textual world
where "everything exists as data, and the real worlds of production and commerce
exist largely as an afterthought." (p.33) Without considering the immateriality
of society as a concept, Bukatman finds that within Debordian spectacular
society all images are advertisements for the status quo. Addiction to these
images becomes a central fact of life. No longer understood as pathological,
this addiction "has instead become the very condition of existence in postmodern
culture." (p.69) With the death of tradition and habit "I love to watch" becomes
the addition of "choice". Bukatman traces tensions between narrative and
spectacle (time and space), suggesting SF is the oracle pointing to
ambiguous/creative resolutions between the two competing "categories of
knowledge", and that SF does so through dismemberment of traditional narrative
subjectivity. The author is vague as to how any ethics would be reworked by
shifts in technical form from narrative to spectacle. Bukatman notes the
essential invisibility of cyberspace as an "arena" of cultural activity, yet a
Western understanding of space remains primarily visual in its metaphoric
conception. The need to render cyber-"spaces" of power visible, so that users
might gain an illusory access "therein", points to a sensual cynicism that
underpins statements that failure to engage with these technologies constitutes
a form of cultural folly. For Bukatman "terminal penetration" achieves and
performs our direct bodily engagement with cyberspace. The subject's control is
enhanced by its disappearance into technology-induced cyberspatial realms. The
body's dissolution may be empowering. Yet this reviewer finds a profound crisis
is raised by the interface/dialectic between body and machine. Should belief in
body "obsolescence" be theorized as cultural exhaustion or as a refusal of
technocratic control because the intractability of the body would no longer be
so central an issue? Bukatman is ingenuous, resisting firm conclusions by citing
a panoply of sources variously recommending all these options. One is not quite
placed in the position of "choose", though almost.
Why should technology now (appear to) take on this particular space/form?
Given the death, or explanation of, a mythic God, alongside the enduring wish of
Western thought to trump exterior "reality", Bukatman, following Bataille,
asserts that "jacking in" to cyberspace disguises the discontinuity of a purely
human existence "...by entering the flow of data in cyberspace - the subject is
dissolved in the swirls of cybernetic information, but is at the same time
further empowered through an extension of motility and spatial possession. Here,
then, are the paradoxically simultaneous experiences of death and immortality
that are fundamental to religious practice." (p.295-96)
Not only is cyberspace an access to the new forms that power takes, but a
"mythic commodity", not a space after all but an artifact (p.151), an induced
visualization (p.154) identified as a space precisely because space has become
the structuring concept of postmodernism and its Gods. Having explained God, a
new commodity form engages each of us as discontinuous human existences, by
virtue of a relocation of souls/subjectivities/consciousness to it - a consumer
heaven in what it publicly promises. Yet the virtual technologies employed
against Iraq reveal another consumer inevitability.
Bukatman argues that the subject is formed in response to conditions of
existence. If these conditions are now immaterial perhaps the subject might
follow suit, but this would occur in a situation wherein the subject would be
addressed through a combination of direct sensory engagement and narrative form.
But in a more overtly critical observation Bukatman writes that: the illusion of
subject empowerment depends upon the invisibility of the apparatus, and when
electronic reality appears to permit a direct incursion by the terminal subject,
then what functions can narrative retain? (p.196)
VR appears to obviate the need for narrative as spatial exploration becomes
an experiential end in itself. (p.239) If narrative first allowed the subject a
history, and if narrative now becomes transparent and perceived as redundant
within these "spectacular" technologies, the death of memory as we know it is at
hand. One thing forgotten in the successful application of electronic illusion
is that "we" have been its inventors. Yet for academics who accord genesis to
the text, the idea that language is a technology, an idea central to VR, will
not be received in a hostile fashion, for as a technology, language can be made
to slide as needed along a continuum from existence to communication, ontology
to epistemology. In forgetting we have made these machines (that they are not
latter-day Kantian a priori categories) it becomes easier for the proposal that
subjectivity is the child of this technology - a proposal analogized from the
position that subjectivity is the child of language - to gain currency along
with the notion that the human is obsolete.
Image and language are intertwined in a complex and ambiguous way. Just as
not all images are visual, though it is possible to argue they can be so
represented through technology, language connects to vision, and by extension,
its technical practices. But it is also informed by situated cultural practices.
Yet this is not quite right, for memory would not be done away with but "merely"
disembodied, made part of the mechanical hive-mind. A mechanical memory will
continue, but will be distinct from the body and narrative practices that help
form part of the refutation that language is only a technique. Flesh will no
longer ground subjectivity or memory, and this, Bukatman suggests, explains
contemporary academic anxiety over the body. In making subjectivity digital the
body will be all we will have left as individuals. Yet this anxiety is reified
by those remaining shards of Enlightenment inheritance that instruct the western
mind that the physical body, in all its putrescence (p. 286), betrays the West's
hallmark rationality. VR is Exodus rewritten, except that now, to fail in the
journey to the promised land is to have failed to submit to the discipline of VR
by not having discarded the body. Bukatman's is a clever, risky project. He
appears to argue that by fusing with machines, we armor/inoculate ourselves
against them. We are making them visible hence accessible to our sensory
abilities. Yet the notion of "entering" cyberspace remains fictive and any
encouragement that "we" ought to "enter" it demands distinguishing between the
possibility of doing so and the necessity of the same, a distinction at the
heart of identifying technological determinism at work.
In "entering" cyberspace, one physically looks at a screen, though the
imagination may be "elsewhere", as it often has been throughout "history" and in
narrative. But this "elsewhere" assumes new urgency given the "spatial crisis"
Bukatman identifies as the failure to know "where" to put subjectivity. If we
are armored against these technologies, they become akin to Frankensteins, for
we also create a distance of denial and forgetting between ourselves and these
machines which represent the consequences of our thoughts and actions. Bruce
Mazlish has argued that the Frankenstein monster represents technology as evil
because disavowed.3 Does
this imply that we may assume our thoughts will become evil because they will
have become disembodied, and more and more will "live" in images based on the
alienating, extending power of the visual sense mechanism - in a kind of
cartography of the Christian eye? Potentially, there is a vicious hermeneutic at
work that trades on VR's implicit promise of transcendence, for if there is any
illusion of transcendence here, it is achieved through technical immanence.
Transcendence takes place in the mind of the subject as proposed to it by the
machine. But only in one part of this subject - the "algorithmic" part that is
armored against the machine by having fused with it. Another part - the body
part - remains less connected, thus raising the spectacle of a vicious internal
war between the selves. Nothing new here. Nothing, that is, except the potential
scale of the internal fracture.
Ken Hillis is a doctoral
candidate in Geography at the University of Wisconsin. He is researching links
between virtual technologies and their impact on dwelling on the earth with an
emerging cultural belief/desire that concrete existence might be relocated
entirely within a linguistic practice.
1.
Paul Smith, Discerning the Subject. (Minneapolis,
University of Minnesota Press, 1988), p. xxvii.
2.
Neil Smith, "Contours of a Spatialized Politics: Homeless
Vehicles and the Production of Geographical Scale", Social Text
(33: 1992), pp. 63-64.
3.
Bruce Mazlish, "The Fourth Discontinuity", Technology and
Culture (8.1: 1967).