Last week when we began exploring the transnational field of
American Literature, I expected a strong scholarly divide in the articles we
read. One side cheering for the move and the other, perhaps more cautious,
overwhelmed, and neutral. I knew I would find myself somewhere in a liminal
range leaning towards “transnational,” but knowing that what most mean by
transnational is not necessarily what scholars envision. How did I know where I
would stand about a literary transnational mindset? My research interests are
in translingual rhetoric and composition. I have encountered many of these
questions about where and how to draw the limits to “trans”: How does
transnational defy or reassert power dynamics? Is transnational a more
inclusive or exclusive disposition? And as Wess pointed out on my first blog,
does a transnational identity “suppress” or “erase” the original identity?
Because of these questions I found
Winfried Fluck’s “A New Beginning?: Transnationalisms” very intriguing, but problematic. While I appreciated Fluck’s
acknowledgement that transnationalism can imply more than one interpretation, I
found his category of “aesthetic transnationalism” limiting. Fluck utilizes Levander’s and Fishkin’s
Presidential Address to reduce transnationalism to a “phenomena [which]
enrich[es], revitalize[es], sometimes intoxicat[es] experience” (368) or simply, a shift which compels American
culture to become “a happy global mélange in which it feels quite at home,
because the global dominance of American culture receives an entirely new
explanation” (369). In short, Fluck poses aesthetic transnationalism—one out of
the two categories he creates for transnationalism—as a utopian neoliberal
borderless society. Fluck then adds that “the narrative of transnational
rejuvenation is therefore also the narrative of enrichment and empowerment, and
in this respect comes uncomfortably close to a neoliberal celebration of free
flow” (371). Here, Fluck not only sees “aesthetic transnationalism” as the ultimate
global model, but also in service of the construction of nation and its
narrative of U.S. exceptionalism. While some scholars may foresee
transnationalism in the ways suggested by Fluck in his category of “aesthetic
transnationalism,” the roots of transnationalism mindset suggest otherwise.
Contact zones—the result of various forms of
transnationalisms—as proposed by Pratts, or transculturalismo
as first introduced by Ortiz in 1940, both deal with grappling with
cross-cultural interactions and their complexities. This can be seen in the way
that Patricia Bizell envisions contact zones in her article “‘Contact Zones’
and English Studies.” Bizell writes, “In
short, I am suggesting that we organize English studies not in terms of literary
or chronological periods, nor essentialized racial or gender categories, but
rather in terms of historically defined contact zones, moments when different
groups within the society contend for the power to interpret what is going on”
(167). Here, Bizell argues that studies structured within contact zones promote
context not only as a way for awareness, but for critical thinking in a system
which can never function outside of the dynamics of power. This is the issue I
find most disconcerting with Fluck’s idea of “aesthetic transnationalism,” the
notion that any disposition may all of the sudden function outside the dynamics
of power. Contact zones are always grounded in power dynamics because the
concept of nation seems much too ingrained in our society. And even though transnationalism may indeed
create problematic results, as demonstrated in Alex Rivera’s talk on
“Transnationalism and the Digital Nation” (Worsham Theatre, University of
Kentucky, 18 Sept. 2013) it shows a stronger inclination for the exposition of
diverse texts and voices within the nation. In addition, it permits a more
nuanced exploration of widely read texts and their influences—so texts like Ulysess never have to leave the
scenario. Therefore transnationalism may be envisioned as a moment of contact as
the context for study. For example, situating power struggles, political
analyses of culture, domination and resistance across borders.
As Mignolo argues, a transnational mindset illuminates contact zones and
complicates our reading of texts and their “historical” significance for
inventing the Americas, however, the question of identity still remains (The Idea
of Latin America 2-8, 145-148).
Certainly some is lost, but it seems that much is also gained. For example, the
Latino identity is a result of transnationalism, not individual or national
identity—one which is highly debated and contested by Latin Americans and
Spaniards, but for those who fall under the category in the United States, it
has served to promote a voice and attention to how Latinos have been a part of
the nation since its conception.
I had some of the same issues with Fluck's article. While I appreciated his nuanced descriptions of two different kinds of transnationalism, power dynamics can't possibly be divorced from transnationalism. I much prefer the focus on contact zones, which puts us right in the middle of those power dynamics as we read texts. I also especially like your ideas about reading texts like Ulysses, which has always been widely read, from a transnational lens. I'm interested in hearing more of your ideas about how the things we explore in this class intersect with your interests in translingual rhetoric and composition!
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