Lasting impressions

See, you wait a few days and everyone else says it for you. I’m not sure Canberra could have been any more fun given that I arrived there in a Gold Mercedes, was susequently driven around most places by nice boys, and when I wasn’t being driven I was catching buses or drinking pitchers, champagne or vodka with other ones. I also benefitted from a generous gypsy (with a great corduroy skirt!), and shared hugs and talks with a bunch of people I had really wanted to see again. The events held off campus impressed me a teensy bit too much, because I am a little bit of a patriot after all, hence I booed quietly at the Liberal Senator who was speaking when we snuck in for a look. He was feeling very pleased with himself that he was going to be able to plant a tree next year. Good on ya, mate! That’ll stop Al Gore, Bob Brown and all those other phoneys.

But John Frow’s keynote - which dwelt on the number of civil liberties we no longer have as Australians, and the way in which our government claims to hold values that it simultaneously legislates against - highlighted every limitation of the papers that came before it. Apart from the cumulative impact of remembering how very many appalling things have been said with a straight face by various elected parliamentarians, I think the reason it affected me so much was because of its initial framing, which described a scenario that is currently happening to someone the speaker knows. This somewhat risky gesture, combined with the concluding sentences that so effectively personalised the grief felt for his own country, expressed something that I found missing in a lot of papers I heard at the conference: a certain crack in the voice, or a glitch in the professional facade (when there was a professional facade in the first place) - an indication that there are stakes involved in what we choose to write and think about, and that with the privilege of speech comes a sense of responsibility to care for, and take risks to protect, the many others who may not have it. Academic conferences may be limited by the charge of preaching to the converted, as a number of people said (in my mind, a little too defensively) in light of Frow’s speech. But to subscribe to that view is to misunderstand the way that change ever happens: we look to leaders in all fields and professions to lead by example (the point is that our political leaders no longer feel this obligation). A lecture that good will keep me inspired to keep working for years - which is lucky, because given how many senior academics seem able to attend, let alone present new work at a domestic conference in the current university environment, it may well have to.

One of the things my book argues is that a sense of care and concern for the plight of others has been characteristic of cultural studies interventions in the past, has been central to its affective and political register within (and sometimes outside) the academy. I’m still not sure whether fancy cocktail parties or even ‘public’ lectures will ever be the best route towards producing the kind of work our country needs most. Indeed, I think that kind of writing comes from a sense of profound constraint, of desperation - when there’s nothing left to lose. Then again, as I learned at the conference that someone I know has battled cancer this year, and as just about all of my friends’ bodies seem to be aching in synchronicity with mine from the struggle to get through another week, maybe that’s exactly the condition we do share. It seems clear that we’re driven and we have the passion to fight and care about some things. I just hope we can tell whether or not they are the most important ones, and that they include each other.

9 Responses to “Lasting impressions”

  1. well written, mel.

    This:

    “I think that kind of writing comes from a sense of profound constraint, of desperation - when there’s nothing left to lose.”

    Is surely a paradox? A good one.

    The movement from constraint to desperation to nothing-left-lose is very powerful. Desperation is much more profound than anxiety; it involves more of a ruthlessness. This resonates with the nothing-left-lose, of an eclipse of life and work and the work of life, but what of the constraint? Don’t we give it our all when writing?

    No, we have to be even more generous.

    Isn’t this where we take something *out* of writing? A subtraction? An element removed to leave a space for the reader or listener. A pedagogical moment where it is not a case of transmission, a ‘doing to’, but of participation and a ‘doing with’.

    I know I need it.

  2. […] Which made Melissa Gregg’s comments on last week’s CSAA conference in Canberra seem extra timely. I especially appreciate her ability to offer up an honest and modest assessment of some of the limitations of what cultural studies is able to do, while still managing to present a clear picture of why cultural studies still matters . . . and, perhaps more crucially, a hopeful vision of what it might be able to accomplish. […]

  3. A good summary of John Frow’s keynote, a finale that resonated strongly with the quality of the cultural studies affective voice!

    Some impressions of the ‘what can we do?’ conclusion, however. It would seem as though continuing with critique, intervention and a broader engagement with the public sphere as a whole is dependant on political investment and, ultimately, hope. The emotional/romantic appeal of profound constraint and desperation might operate as a driver, but is produced from the very erosion of the conditions that allow for the possibility of writing. I agree that this is not simply a case of bad economics, but equally one that demands endurance, through the experience of failure, and the continual and seemingly permanent inability to effect change. As you point out, fatigue and sheer exhaustion is something we share in common; cynicism and apathy need to be guarded against.

    For myself, the constraint of being trapped in a responsive position was another aspect actutely highlighted in John’s concluding remarks; at present, a documentary style approach to listing the slow destruction of democratic pluralism, civil rights, the environment, etc. More so than desperation, the key driver to change now appears to be crisis. Will anyone be able to gauge the impact of so many successive tipping-points, will anyone still be listening when that time comes? Should be thankful that environment devastation might prompt a change in government?

  4. These are all good points that deserve to be thought through further but, to me, the single most overlooked (or strategically sidestepped) question was how are we going to vote these bastards out. Perhaps because I have a background in federal electoral politics (in Canada), I tend to think that (borrowing from former-PM Jean Chretien) the point of politics, when you strip away everything, is to win elections. The question then turns on, how do we (I’m speaking as if all cultural studies types are left-leaning which is probably not the truth) defeat Howard? What concrete, political strategies are out there? (Where does he live??? etc. etc. etc.) And before someone strikes down these concerns as beyond or below our projects or having no real effect in electoral politics, you should train your eyes to the U.S. with the congressional triumph of the Democrats and the soaring presidential torrent for Barack Obama … it can happen if you get to the basics of politics. That is, campaigns, knocking on doors, in other words getting involved actively in the political process. (Something which most aademics shy away from or sneer at while they drink their pinot and eat chevre.)

    I don’t want to diss John but, as I told Michael and others after his really quite amazing talk, it seemed as if the third act was missing from the paper - the part where after laying down his stakes and personal feelings on the subject, he puts out solutions or at least paths. In a sense, the lack of the third act in culturl studies in general is its most distressing feature … because without the third act, we all still have something “important” still to study.

    Of course, no political party is all good or even altruistic since, as said before, the point is to win (and seize power). But, perhaps it’s best to grab onto hold of the lesser evil, compromise and get actually involved.

    Also, the other thing missing in many of the papers last week (especially the overtly anti-Liberal “John Howard sucks” types) was the realization that:

    (a) Howard is a really freaking great politician who knows how to get votes, tap into emotions and win elections
    (b) the Australian economy has, for the most part, been quite good under his administration
    (c) the ALP sucks

    Cultural Studies types should try to learn from A to improve C.

  5. […] Seems like I missed out on an interesting Cultural Studies conference in Canberra during December. Glen and Melissa have offered up excellent summaries and critiques of what went down. Unfortunately, not being instituionally supported meant a lack of funds for me. It is an expensive buy in at $440.00. Disappointed I missed the conference tho […]

  6. shit. i get so pretentious when i am sober and sleepy. apologies.

  7. Contra Graham, I think Howard is actually a pretty average politician who happens to enjoy the benefits of a completely servile mass media. He also manages to look OK because the rest of the Liberal front bench are such total goons.

    I won’t disagree with his final point though.

  8. You don’t win 4 elections (especially after coming back from the dead like a political Lazarus) without being at least better than average politico.

    (I should also add that I realize that electoral politics isn’t the end-all or be-all of political engagement and that my experience in party politics was, in the end, pretty dismal and a really bad and stressful time in my life.)

  9. very best idea make rules time!…

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