Settling for the sensual instead of aiming for the transcendental...
On The Pentagon Channel I was watching a show (USARJ This Week) featuring a man who told about his bicycle tour through Japan. When he reached Hiroshima, it was interesting to observe how he could not formulate how or why visiting the city was significant, but only that it was significant. He said it was an intense experience, "for many reasons" but could not formulate even one such reason, his eyes veering to the side at the point in his presentation where an example of a reason would normally follow the statement that there are "many" such reasons. He had been to the city four or five times, and each time it was new. A sentence or two later, he said it was great to have gotten here because it was an historically significant site and because this time, he got there by bike. Getting there by bike is a personal accomplishment. Okay. But why is the place itself significant? Of course Hiroshima is the first place a nuclear weapon was used on a hostile target, a place where tens of thousands of people were killed within a few seconds, but what is the significance of actually being there? We all know Hiroshima got "nuked." Why do we need to visit the place? What do we learn by seeing live the places we see in the pictures - the "Peace Dome" and the other memorials? The reporter noted that it is great to see how the locals have "preserved" the site, but the photographs show neatly kept gardens and lawns. The "Peace Dome" would appear to be a neatly kept ruin. None of it would appear to have anything to do with the carnage and destruction we see in the old photographs of a city flattened by a nuclear weapon. The reporter noted that he had learned much by talking to the locals, but he did not, perhaps could not, formulate exactly what it was that was he had learned.
He went on to remark that, "The best classroom is travel. You can learn more through travel than you can in the classroom." But I couldn't help but think that his lack of words, his inability to formulate, even in a prepared statement, what it was he learned in Hiroshima and why it was important, or pehraps his inability to question the cliché of "significance" and the assumptions we all carry around with us, may have reflected a lack of formal education, or the lack of a formal education that could be applied to this situation. This is not evidence that the reporter is uneducated. On the contrary, he knows much about the country, showed cultural competence in his various interviews with Japanese people, and speaks fluent Japanese. He is clearly of well-above-average intelligence, education and reflection. But that only highlights the problem here.
I tried to put my finger on exactly what it was that he just assumed we would understand about what it is he learned. Why did it seem enough to simply say it was significant and leave it at that? It reminded me of being at Omaha Beach on the morning of June 6th, 1994 - exactly 50 years from the moment the 116th Regimental Combat Team came ashore at the exact site of where they disembarked into withering machine gun fire. I went expecting some sort of emotional event or special insight. The exact location was going to be something magical, the round anniversary would somehow conjure up meaning. But it didn't. There were 50 or 100 people standing around in small groups. I saw a man carry an American flag into the waves "in memory" of his uncle who had been killed there, as he later said - a non-traditional form of remembrance which perhaps was also somehow intended to evoke an "authentic" experience. I could look up and down the beach and at the nearby hights and get a bit of a feeling for the tactical situation. I thought, "Gee, this really is vulnerable. No cover. Sitting ducks." But that seemed then and seems even moreso now to be a kind of banality that should not have required travel. Is the significance of being at the site simply that, a bit more insight into infantry tactics? So I can say, "I was at the exact location" and people nod their heads and think, "Wow!" But I can't help but think that the more astute listeners think not, "Wow!" but, "So?" So what if you were there at the very same beach exactly 50 years later? I am still not able to formulate what it was I expected to learn there. So what if you are standing in front of a memorial in Hiroshima?
What is in the magic of the place itself? What assumptions are hiding behind the, "Wow!"? I have serious doubts that it is so profound that language can not capture it. But does that mean it is all just vacuous?
One possible way out would be to formulate such experiences with active verbs and with overt references to the self: I saw, I felt, I went, I touched, I recalled or the site evoked, the people told me that..., etc. That would produce clear, living sentences which would connect the place, the visitor and his or her readers or listeners in a direct, clear way. Some things come to mind here:
- If we do this, we stop fishing around in our heads for abstract words which seem diluted or vacuous against the backdrop of the solid, real-life location. We don't speak in abstractions such as "honor" / "heroic" / "glory" / "grand" / "horrific" / "significant" / "profound" or "freedom," but instead look for more grounded ways to express things and perhaps feel the site. We experience it directly as a physical site. We stop aiming for the transcendental and settle for the sensual. After all, if what we're talking about is really so profound and transcendental, we don't need to actually be there, since it is divorced from space and time. If we're at a real, physical site, then we can talk about it in real, earthly terms.
- The teaching exercize I do where I try to get students to critically analyze memorials is a step in this direction. This belies my claim that what I teach is not memorialization, but is instead about memorialization. By having them step back and really look at these sites not holistically, but element by element, and forcing them to find vivid words for what it is they see, I am actually encouraging students to participate in the site in a way that may, in the end, make it more "significant" and more about authentically remembering. What starts out as an academic exercize aimed at achieving distance may in fact help in finding out what these places really do or don't mean for us.
He went on to remark that, "The best classroom is travel. You can learn more through travel than you can in the classroom." But I couldn't help but think that his lack of words, his inability to formulate, even in a prepared statement, what it was he learned in Hiroshima and why it was important, or pehraps his inability to question the cliché of "significance" and the assumptions we all carry around with us, may have reflected a lack of formal education, or the lack of a formal education that could be applied to this situation. This is not evidence that the reporter is uneducated. On the contrary, he knows much about the country, showed cultural competence in his various interviews with Japanese people, and speaks fluent Japanese. He is clearly of well-above-average intelligence, education and reflection. But that only highlights the problem here.
I tried to put my finger on exactly what it was that he just assumed we would understand about what it is he learned. Why did it seem enough to simply say it was significant and leave it at that? It reminded me of being at Omaha Beach on the morning of June 6th, 1994 - exactly 50 years from the moment the 116th Regimental Combat Team came ashore at the exact site of where they disembarked into withering machine gun fire. I went expecting some sort of emotional event or special insight. The exact location was going to be something magical, the round anniversary would somehow conjure up meaning. But it didn't. There were 50 or 100 people standing around in small groups. I saw a man carry an American flag into the waves "in memory" of his uncle who had been killed there, as he later said - a non-traditional form of remembrance which perhaps was also somehow intended to evoke an "authentic" experience. I could look up and down the beach and at the nearby hights and get a bit of a feeling for the tactical situation. I thought, "Gee, this really is vulnerable. No cover. Sitting ducks." But that seemed then and seems even moreso now to be a kind of banality that should not have required travel. Is the significance of being at the site simply that, a bit more insight into infantry tactics? So I can say, "I was at the exact location" and people nod their heads and think, "Wow!" But I can't help but think that the more astute listeners think not, "Wow!" but, "So?" So what if you were there at the very same beach exactly 50 years later? I am still not able to formulate what it was I expected to learn there. So what if you are standing in front of a memorial in Hiroshima?
What is in the magic of the place itself? What assumptions are hiding behind the, "Wow!"? I have serious doubts that it is so profound that language can not capture it. But does that mean it is all just vacuous?
One possible way out would be to formulate such experiences with active verbs and with overt references to the self: I saw, I felt, I went, I touched, I recalled or the site evoked, the people told me that..., etc. That would produce clear, living sentences which would connect the place, the visitor and his or her readers or listeners in a direct, clear way. Some things come to mind here:
- If we do this, we stop fishing around in our heads for abstract words which seem diluted or vacuous against the backdrop of the solid, real-life location. We don't speak in abstractions such as "honor" / "heroic" / "glory" / "grand" / "horrific" / "significant" / "profound" or "freedom," but instead look for more grounded ways to express things and perhaps feel the site. We experience it directly as a physical site. We stop aiming for the transcendental and settle for the sensual. After all, if what we're talking about is really so profound and transcendental, we don't need to actually be there, since it is divorced from space and time. If we're at a real, physical site, then we can talk about it in real, earthly terms.
- The teaching exercize I do where I try to get students to critically analyze memorials is a step in this direction. This belies my claim that what I teach is not memorialization, but is instead about memorialization. By having them step back and really look at these sites not holistically, but element by element, and forcing them to find vivid words for what it is they see, I am actually encouraging students to participate in the site in a way that may, in the end, make it more "significant" and more about authentically remembering. What starts out as an academic exercize aimed at achieving distance may in fact help in finding out what these places really do or don't mean for us.
mhatlie - Sun Feb 28, 23:23 Topic: Teaching collective memory

