08 Jan

Protestant Relics

Welcome to Protestant Relics! This blog serves as a platform for musings about my dissertation “Protestant Relics: The Politics of Religion & the Art of Mourning in the Early American Republic.” My dissertation examines the material culture of mourning that proliferated after George Washington’s death. It asks how and why early Americans produced, distributed, and displayed Washington relics–locks of hair, bones, and images. It traces how mourning for Washington and his relics became central to American Protestantism and politics. It also investigates how Americans’ obsession with Washington relics trickled into Protestant female academies and homes through mourning art. Early Americans engaged relics as powerful objects to understand their roles as political, religious, and gendered citizens. You will also find reviews of my preliminary exam readings here.

InMemoryOf

09 Apr

W.J.T. Mitchell, “The Rhetoric of Iconoclasm” (1986)

“The Rhetoric of Iconoclasm” appears in Iconology: Image, Text, Rhetoric. This book is not specifically about images, but “the way we talk about the idea of imagery” (1). Mitchell wants to show “how the notion of imagery serves as a kind of relay connecting theories of art, language, and the mind with conceptions of social, cultural, and political value” (2). This is also a book about the fear of images. According to Mitchell, the term iconology “turned out to be, not just about the science of icons, but the political psychology of icons, the study of iconophobia, iconophilia, and the struggle between iconoclasm and idolatry” (3).  This struggle can be seen within our conceptions of images and text. Mitchell recognizes that images cannot be read without text and context. Pictures need words and vice versa. “The recognition that pictorial images are inevitably conventional and contaminated by language need not cast us into an abyss of infinitely regressive signifiers…The history of culture is in part the story of a protracted struggle for dominance between pictorial and linguistic signs, each claiming for itself certain proprietary rights in ‘nature’ to which only it has access” (42-43) Thus, historians cannot separate pictures from words in history or in their analyses. Ways of seeing images are socially constructed by texts and language. With this struggle between pictures and words in mind, Mitchell examines the rhetoric of iconoclasm.

Mitchel examines the rhetoric of iconoclasm in Marx’s ideology and fetishism. Marx defined ideology as a false consciousness. According to Mitchell this means “a system of symbolic representation that reflects an historical situation of domination by a particular class, and which serves to conceal the historical character and class bias of that system under guises of naturalness and universality” (4). Since Marx, historians have taken ideology to mean the “structures of values and interests that informs any representation of reality” (4). This meaning loses Marx’s notion of false consciousness, oppression, and criticism.

Marx made his notion of ideology concrete by using the language of imagery. Marx suggested that ideology was the camera obscura. Like the camera obscura, ideology projected false realities. For Marx, the camera obscura was a commodity, a bourgeois amusement that created illusion with images. Marx called for iconoclasm or a break from ideology and false ideas.

Marx also called for iconoclasm, or a break from material things in Das Capital. Marx criticized capitalists’ material objects and concrete practices in his explication of the commodity fetish. Marx applied the European idea of the fetish as a perverse, primitive, religious illusion to the commodity. Marx argued that commodities were fetishes. Commodities to the capitalist appeared to have a “transcendent” being, they were endowed with a “mystical” and “enigmatic” character (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 81-96). A commodity to the capitalists “is, in reality, a very queer thing, abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties” (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 81). This mystery, according to Marx, stemmed from a commodity’s abstraction of labor and concealment of labor history: “A commodity is therefore a mysterious thing, simply because in it the social character of men’s labor appears to them as an objective character stamped upon the product of the labor” (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 83). A commodity’s material existence seems to have nothing to do with the labor involved in its creation and its value in relation to other commodities. Thus, Marx looked for a category in his contemporary, historical moment that could describe this mysterious power of things.

 

The parallel he saw was the fetish as Europeans deployed it against West Africans. According to Mitchell, “Marx adopted fetishism as a metaphor for commodities at the moment when Western Europe (and particular England) was changing its view of the ‘undeveloped’ world from an unknown, blank space, a source of slave-labor, to a place of darkness to be illuminated, a frontier for imperialist expansion and wage-slavery. ‘Fetishism’ was a key word in the vocabularies of nineteenth-century missionaries and anthropologist who went out to convert the natives to the privileges of enlightened Christian capitalism” (W.J.T. Mitchell, Iconology, 205).

Marx applied the word fetish to commodity as a critique of capitalism and its perception of magical things. According to Mitchell, “In calling commodities fetishes, Marx is telling the nineteenth century reader that the material basis of modern, civilized, rational political economy is structurally equivalent to that which is most inimical to modern consciousness” (191). In other words, capitalism was a perverse illusion. Capitalists fetishized commodities and money. Money embodied the value of the commodity. Marx argued that money was not a symbol of exchange, but “the direct incarnation of all human labor,” or “the embodiment of their values” (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 105, 122). Capitalists ignored the symbolic form of money. They recognized that money was a real, powerful thing and that money begot more money.

Marx called capitalists to recognize their own false perceptions of material things. Capitalists were not idolaters in the sense that they worship the symbolic (money) through a material form (commodity). For Marx, capitalists were like West Africans who recognized things (for capitalists, commodities) as magical objects that contain their value (the abstraction of human labor). According to Mitchell, “Commodity fetishism can be understood then, as a kind of double forgetting: first the capitalist forgets that it is he and his tribe who have projected life and value into commodities in the ritual of exchange. ‘Exchange-value’ comes to seem an attribute of commodities even though ‘no chemist has ever discovered exchange-value in either a pear or a diamond.’ But then, a second phase of amnesia sets in that is quite unknown to primitive fetishism. The commodity veils itself in familiarity and triviality, in the rationality of purely quantitative relations and ‘natural, self-understood forms of social life.’ The deepest magic of the commodity fetish is its denial that there is anything magical about it: ‘the intermediate step of the process vanish in the result and leave no trace behind’” (W.J.T. Mitchell, Iconology, 193). In other words commodities seem like timeless, ahistorical things with power. The abstraction of labor conceals their production processes and history. Capitalistic economics forgot “the historical character of its own mode of production” (193).  The commodity fetish and money, according to Mitchell, level “all the distinction of sex, age, and skill into quantities of universal labor time in both the exchange and factory” (196).

Protestants charged Catholics with fetishism, or idolatry. “The idolater is naïve and deluded, the victim of false religion” (197). Similarly, Marx accused Protestants of being idolaters and victims of capitalism. According to Mitchell, Marxism “plays the role in modern Western intellectual life of a kind of secular Puritan/Judaism, a prophetic iconoclasm that challenges the polytheistic pluralism of bourgeois society. It tries to replaces polytheism with a monotheism in which the historical process plays the role of messiah, and the capitalist idols of the mind and marketplace are reduced to demonic fetishes. The liberal pluralist complaint against the intolerance of its iconoclastic rhetoric is likely to be met by a Marxist dismissal of petit-bourgeois ‘tolerance’ as the luxury of a privileged minority” (207). The struggle between these two positions, Mitchel hopes, will make “both our love and hate of ‘mere images’ contraries in the dialectic of iconology” (208). Mitchell hopes to show the struggle between iconoclasm and idolatry, between words and images. He also hopes to show how ideology (in the Marxist sense) can be transformed into ideology as reality so that the iconoclast appears to stand above everyone else as the messiah. And the rhetoric of iconoclasm continues between image and text, idolatry and iconoclasm.

09 Apr

Alfred Gell, Art and Agency (1998)

Art and Agency presents an anthropological theory of art. Gell defines an anthropological theory of art as “social relations in the vicinity of objects mediating social agency” (7).

Summary

Gell argues that an anthropological theory of art must focus on the social contexts of art. A social approach is needed in order to examine “the social context of art production, circulation, and reception, rather than the evaluation of particular works of art” (3). Production and circulation are sustained by other social processes like exchange, politics, religion, and kinship. An anthropological theory of art should not elucidate western vs. non-western aesthetic systems. This is a cultural approach to art. Moreover, it assumes that a culture has a universal parameter on which art is produced. To understand art, Gell argues historians must examine the social relationships “between participants in social systems of various kinds” (4).  The need for social relationship in art becomes clear when one tries to define art.

Gell rejects the normative definition of art as “whatever is treated as art by members of the institutionally recognized art world” (5). He also rejects the term “art objects” to describe art works because it assumes that “objects are sign-vehicles, conveying ‘meaning,’ or they are objects made in order to provoke a culturally endorsed aesthetic response” (5). The phrases art and art object do not allow objects to act in social relationships. Gell recognizes that objects have agency, intention, causation, and that they are effective and transformative. Thus, Gell seeks to understand the active and mediatory role of objects.  He suggests that there is no difference between bodies and artefacts. Gell defines these objects, which are equivalent to persons, as “social agents” (7). Gell argues that to understand social agents, historians must examine the biographical elements, or their life-stages of social agents.

Gell calls a social agent (or art, art object, work of art, etc.) an index. An index is “seen as an outcome, and/or the instrument of, social agency” (16). Gell argues that agency is attributable to persons and indexes. Agency is the attribution of intention to a person or thing. Gell defines things, or indexes as primary and secondary agents. Primary agents are “intentional beings who are categorically distinguished from ‘mere’ things or artefacts” (20). Secondary agents are “artefacts, dolls, cars, works of art, etc. through which primary agents distribute their agency in the causal milieu, and thus render their agency effective” (20). Primary and secondary agents work by distributed personhood.

The idea of distributed personhood allows historians to see the distribution of primary agents’ agency through secondary agents. For example, “as agents, they [soldiers] were not just where their bodies were, but in many different places (and times) simultaneously [as mines]. Those mines were components of their identities as human person, just as much as their fingerprints or the litanies of hate and fear which inspired their action” (21). Calling things secondary agents, according to Gell, does not mean they are not agents. It means they are not primary agents “who initiate happenings through acts of will for which they are morally responsible” (20). Secondary agents are “objective embodiments of the power or capacity to will their use” (21). This “objectification in artefact-form is how social agency manifests and realizes itself, via the proliferation of fragments of ‘primary’ intentional agents in their ‘secondary’ artefactual form” (21).

Agents work in a network of social relations. Agents must have a patient. The patient is the “object which is causally affected by the agent’s action” (22). Primary or secondary agents can act as the patient while the other acts as the agent. Manufactured objects are indexes of their makers, or their artists. Sometimes the artist and the index’s origin are forgotten or concealed. The recipients of indexes are “in a social relationship with the index, either as “patients”…or as ‘agents’ in that, but for them, this index would not have come into existence (they have caused it)” (24). An index must always have some specific reception or recipient. This network of social relationships also includes the prototype. The prototype of an index identifies “the entity which the index represents visually (as an icon, depictions, etc.) or non-visually” (26).

Concerns

Gell argues that secondary objects have agency in a social network made of humans and other objects. This agency can be witnessed through a biographical examination of objects in relationships. Despite these claim, Gell does not allows secondary agents to have agency. They are always bound to humans or patients. They can only have agency through a primary agent’s agency, or distributed personhood.  Moreover, secondary agents are not morally responsible for anything. Gell tries to give objects agency, but takes it back when he makes them rely on humans. Objects are mediators of social agency, not actual agent themselves.

09 Apr

Ann Kibbey, “Iconoclastic Materialism” (1986)

“Iconoclastic Materialism” examines Protestants’ discourse and iconoclasm during the Reformation to understand how they thought about things. Kibbey argues that although Protestants destroyed images, they did not categorically oppose all images or icons.

Summary

Historians, according to Kibbey, have misunderstood Protestants’ reactions to images. Kibbey argues that “Puritan iconoclasm no less than Puritan rhetoric, granted substantial importance to material shapes” (42). Protestants iconoclasm was about the right use of material objects. Puritans recognized themselves as images of God, or living icons. Moreover, Kibbey argues that Puritans’ opposition to images was “actually a devoted, if negative, act of reverence, and a very self-conscious one at that” (42). Puritan iconoclasts “believed very deeply in the power of icon” (42).  In other words, Protestants did not see icons and images as empty and meaningless. Images, even if they were bad images, held power over Protestants. Puritans recognized that idols compelled humans to believe in them. Visual figures were a threat to humans because they seemed like they could speak, walk, and act. Puritans felt threatened by idols. Idol invoked fear in viewers. According to Kibbey, “Calvin’s reasoning implies that Protestant iconoclasts believed it necessary to attack the visual images in church sculpture, glass, and painting not because they disbelieved these images but rather because they believed quite strongly in their power” (47).  Protestants believed in the power of icons and idols.

Historiography

Kibbey’s chapter is important to studies of Protestant material culture. 1) Kibbey recognizes that Protestants held a negative reverence for images. Idols held power over iconoclasts and they instilled fear in humans. Protestants did not recognize idols as dead and meaningless. Idols could act on humans. This is important for understanding 19th century Protestant missions in the United States and missionaries’ infatuation with idols. 2) Kibbey also recognizes that Puritans recognized themselves as living images of God, or icons. This is important for future work on Puritan portraits and gravestones which imaged individual Protestants. Scholars have not yet recognized Puritan gravestones as icons. They were images of living icons and worked in a way similar to other icons.  3) Kibbey also recognizes that Marx’s commodity fetish is deeply rooted in Protestantism. Kibbey suggests that Calvin’s analysis of sacramental bread is a precursor to Marx’s commodity fetish. Both have power that resides outside the material thing. According to Kibbey, “Both Calvin and Marx perceive a contradiction between the ordinary use of an object and the value (spiritual or exchange) that it acquires upon consecration/circulation” (52). Marx’s critique of capitalism is also a critique of Protestantism.  Kibbey’s work is significant because it calls scholars to consider Protestant materialism. Contemporary scholars are still hesitant to recognize the power that things have and had over Protestants.

09 Apr

Igor Kopytoff, “The Cultural Biography of Things” (1986)

“The Cultural Biography of Things” examines commodities and commoditization as a cultural and cognitive process. Kopytoff argues that to understand the values of commodities historians must examine the biography of things, not just production and moments of exchange.

Summary

Kopytoff begins his essay be examining the commoditization of one of the most complex things: a slave. Slaves are persons, but treated as things and commodities. After a slave is exchanged it loses its commodity status as it tries to build a life as a person. Even so, a slave is always a potential commodity because it has a potential exchange value that can be realized by resale. The life of a slave exhibits a process of commoditization, decommoditization, which Kopytoff terms “singularization,” and recommoditization. Kopytoff argues that this process is not particular to slaves as persons/things, but describes commodities in general. Thus, Kopytoff calls for historians to examine the cultural biography of things to understand their processes of commoditization and singularization.

Biographies take many forms and approaches. Historians can begin asking similar questions of things as they ask of people. Where does it come from and who made it? What has been its career? What is an ideal career for this sort of thing? What are the periods of its life? What are its cultural markers for those periods? How does the thing’s use change with age? What happens when it is considered useless? This approach to things is necessary since “Biographies of things can make salient what might otherwise remain obscure” (67). For example, the biography of a thing can tell us how it is used or perceived in a particular culture, not just how it is exchanged.  This process should be used for examining commodities.

Kopytoff defines a commodity as “a thing that has use value and that can be exchanged in a discrete transaction for a counterpart, the very fact of exchange indicating that the counterpart has, in the immediate context, an equivalent value” (68). Thus, the counterpart is also a commodity. In this exchange, “exchange can be direct or it can be achieved indirectly by way of money, one of whose functions is a means of exchange” (69). Kopytoff does not consider gifts as commodities because they are not discrete transactions. Gifts assume the opening of some other transaction, or call for a reciprocal gift. Gifts may be commodities, but when exchanged as gifts they are not commodities for Kopytoff because the transaction is not terminal.

Goods, however, are never commodities or non-commodities. Things becomes commodities through a process, or commoditization. According to Kopytoff, “Commoditization, then, is best looked upon as a process of becoming rather than an all-or-none state of being. Its expansion takes places in two ways: (a) with respect to each thing, by making it exchangeable for more and more other things, and (b) with respect to the system as a whole, by making more and more different thing more widely exchangeable” (73).

Moreover, goods are never commoditized in a single sphere of exchange as Marx supposed. Goods are exchanged in “several spheres of exchange values, which operate more or less independently of one another” (70). Commodities may be exchanged in “separate universes of exchange values, [or]…commodity spheres” (71). Spheres of exchange carry their own value systems. Thus, a commodity can circulate in more than one exchange sphere. It can be valuable as a commodity or a thing in multiple spheres.

Commodities may experience singularization in the commoditization process. Singularization makes a commodity sacred, or special. Kopytoff notes, “And if, as Durkheim saw it, societies need to set apart a certain portion of their environment, marking it as ‘sacred,’ singularization is one means to this end” (75). Singularization, however, does not guarantee sacralization. It may only pull items out of an exchange sphere.

Singularization does not apply to things that societies publicly preclude from being commoditized, like public parks and public monuments. Singularization can be extended “to things that are normally commodities—in effect, commodities are singularized by being pulled out of their usual commodity sphere” (74). For example, items revered by one society that are commodities for another. Singularization also occurs “through restricted commoditization, in which some things are confined to a very narrow sphere of exchange” (74). For example, things that may be traded but are held in another sphere, like a prestige sphere, which tries to limit exchange. These examples show that “in any society, the individual is often caught between the cultural structure of commoditization and how his own personal attempts to bring a value order to the universe of things” (76).

Singularization happens differently in different societies. In complex societies, singularization usually occurs via private singularization. For example, an individual singularizes commodities by making them heirlooms and refusing to part with them via exchange. Kopytoff suggests that heirlooms may be recognized as commodities and singularizations at the same time: “What to me is an heirloom is, of course, a commodity to the jeweler, and the fact that I am not divorced from the jeweler’s culture is apparent in my willingness to price my priceless heirloom” (80). In this examples, two different value systems are at work: that of the marketplace and that of the “closed sphere of personally singularized things” (80). The personal sphere of exchange is independent of the marketplace sphere. The personal sphere is usually based on values that come from aesthetics, morality, religion, or professional concerns. When a thing simultaneously participates “in cognitively distinct yet intermeshed exchange spheres, one is constantly confronted with seeming paradoxes of value” (82). How can an object have a price and be priceless? This paradox is perpetuated as a thing goes in and out of commoditization and singularization. Kopytoff notes, “Singularity, in brief, is confirmed not by the object’s structural position in an exchange system, but by intermittent forays into the commodity sphere, quickly followed by reentries into the closed sphere of singular art. But the two worlds cannot be kept separate for very long” (83). Kopytoff argues that “The only time when the commodity status of a thing is beyond question is the moment of actual exchange” (83).

Historiography

This essays (like the others in The Social Life of Things) seeks to expand the definition of commodities beyond Marx’s definition of goods intended for exchange in contemporary capitalist economies.

Kopytoff argues that singularization is important to a commodity’s exchange value. In other words, singularization, not just abstract labor, construct exchange value. Kopytoff suggests that Marx missed this in commodity fetishism. “For Marx, the worth of commodities is determined by the social relations of their production; but the existence of the exchange system makes the production process remote and misperceived, and it ‘masks’ the commodity’s true worth. This allows the commodity to be socially endowed with a fetishlike ‘power’ that is unrelated to its true worth” (83). Kopytoff argues that power does not only come from the hidden and abstracted labor of a thing. For Kopytoff, “some of that power is attributed to commodities after they are produced, and this by way of an autonomous cognitive and cultural process of singularization” (83). For Kopytoff, historians cannot begin to understand the constructed value of a commodity until they recognize that singularization affects value, not just abstracted labor. To examine this construction of power requires that historians study the cultural biography of things. This allows historians to examine the process of commoditization and singularization, as well as the distinct spheres of exchange in which things circulate. Biographies of things allows historians to examine the numerous and conflicting identities of things that create their exchange value.

Kopytoff’s essay is an important contribution to the study of things and commodities. 1) He suggests that commodities “must not be only produced materially things, but also culturally marked as being a certain kind of thing.” 2) Not all produced things are commodities because “only some of them are considered appropriate for marking as commodities” (64). 3) A thing may be a commodity at one time and at another time not a commodity. 4) A thing may be a commodity for one person and at the same time a non-commodity for another. 5) Although Kopytoff does not suggest this, his work implies that things have lives. By tracing the biography of a thing historians can recognize its agency.

09 Apr

Patrick Geary, “Sacred commodities: the circulation of medieval relics” (1986)

“Sacred commodities” examines relics as commodities in the Middle Ages.

Summary

Like other goods in the Middle Ages, relics were circulated via sale, barter, gift, and theft. Goods and relics were not usually bought with money. Relics during this time were “bodies or portions of bodies” (174). People recognized that relics “were the saints, continuing to live among men. They were immediate sources of supernatural power for good or ill, and close contact with them or possession of them was a means of participating in that power” (176).

The value attached to relics “required the communal acceptance of three interrelated beliefs. First, the community had to believe that individuals associated with relics were special friends of God, or saints, during their lives and in death. Second, the community had to believe that the remains of a saint were prized and should be treated in a special way. Third, the community had to believe that relics were the remains of particular saints. Relics were highly desirable and communities competed for relics of particular saints.

Relics went through a process of confirmation. This process usually included a community procession, installation, or test of relics and then the performance of miracles by the relics. If relics worked—that is, “acted as channels for supernatural intervention”—then people considered them genuine (178). Once communities recognized the efficaciousness of relics “their continuing significance and value depended on their continued performance of miracles and on their relative value compared with other relics and other sources of power” (178). Relics were circulated and exchanged as gifts, and by theft and sale. The normal means of circulation was by gift. The circulation of relics “was part of a careful program of centralized control over the sacred” (185). This control over the sacred gave communities and individuals power and authority.

Once relics were circulated their vale and power had to be reconstructed for the new community in a similar process as described above. Included in this reconstruction of value were myths of the relics’ production and circulation. According to Geary, “acquiring the relic gave it value because it was worth acquiring, and this acquisition (often in the face of grave natural and supernatural dangers) was itself evidence that relics were genuine. Circulation thus created the commodity being circulated, although to survive as a commodity it had to continue to meet the high expectations raised by the mode of its creation” (187).  Geary suggests some characteristics important to commodity exchange in medieval society. 1) Relics were demanded and demand was historically situated. 2) Historians should examine the biographies of things because relics transformed from persons to commodities to persons and back to commodities. 3) People recognized conflicts over commodities’ value and did not always agree on the value of relics. Geary ends the essay by posing some questions for further study about commodities, relics, and exchange in medieval societies.

Historiography

This essays (like the others in The Social Life of Things) seeks to expand the definition of commodities beyond Marx’s definition of goods intended for exchange in contemporary capitalist economies. Geary argues that historians can understand relics as commodities since we already think of slaves as commodities. Relics belong to the same category that treats persons as things and vice versa. Thus, commodities are not just produced goods exchanged in the modern marketplace. Commodities can by any thing or person that is circulated or exchanged in history. Geary’s essay is important because it considers relics as commodities. It also important because it suggests that historians must examine the biographies of things to understand their value. Value is gained not only in particular moments of exchange when a thing is a commodity, but also when the thing is a person (like a relic in a church). Value is constructed throughout the life of an exchanged thing.

09 Apr

John S. Strong, “Relics” in The Encyclopedia of Religion (1986)

John S. Strong defines relics as “the venerated remains of venerable persons” (275). Relics may be bones, ashes, and bodies of saints, martyrs, founders of religious traditions and holy people. Relics may also be objects that these people once owned or with which they had physical contact. Both types of relics work via “contagious magic” in that a part represents the whole. For example, bones, hair or a tooth make the entire person present. Strong suggests that Protestants condemned and destroyed relics during the Reformation. No other attention is given to Protestant relics.

09 Apr

Revolutionary Tea Parties: Tea in North Carolina and Women’s History

Jamie presented “Revolutionary Tea Parties: Tea in North Carolina and Women’s History” at the West Regional Public Library in Cary, NC and at the Eva Perry Public Library in Apex, NC to celebrate Women’s History Month in March 2015.

Follow this link to see Jamie’s “Revolutionary Tea Parties” PowerPoint.

Ticket for the “Boston Tea Party Centennial” hosted by the New England Woman’s Suffrage Association

Ticket for the “Boston Tea Party Centennial” hosted by the New England Woman’s Suffrage Association at Faneuil Hall.

 

 

08 Apr

David Freedberg, The Power of Images (1989)

The Power of Images is not a book about the history of art. It is concerned with “the failure of art history to deal with the extraordinarily abundant evidence for the ways in which people of all classes and cultures have responded to images” (xix). It examines the psychological and behavioral responses to images rather than critical responses. Many of the psychological and behavioral responses had been deemed unworthy of examination because they were “popular,” or “primitive,” non-Western reactions to art. The behaviors involved what many Westerners considered irrational, superstitious, or explicable by magic. In fact, many Westerners engaged in this popular understandings of images. Freedberg suggests that he did not set out to provide an explanatory theory of images. “The aim, instead, has been to develop adequate terms, and to set out the possibilities for the ways in which cognitive theory may be nourished by the evidence of history” (xxii). In other words, Freedberg called for scholars to look at images differently by examining humans’ responses to images.

Freedberg argued that examining the responses to images referred to “the symptoms of the relationship between image and beholder” (xxii). This included the “active, outwardly markable responses of the beholder as well as the beliefs…that motivate them to specific action and behavior” (xxii). But, Freedberg also argued that humans’ responses to images depended on recognizing the efficacy and effectiveness of images. In other words, Freedberg called scholars to examine the power of images. This meant examining the vitality of images, what images appear to do, what people expect images to do, and why people expect images to do anything at all. Freedberg called art historians to examine images in terms of phenomenological evidence (what the viewer observers, sees, thinks, and feels about the images), written evidence in terms of documents about the images and their history, as well as contextual evidence in terms of similar images. Examining responses to images involved taking seriously what humans said about images and recognizing the power that images hold over people.

The chapter “Idolatry and Iconoclasm” examines the paradoxes of iconoclasm. The examples Freedberg gives about acts of iconoclasm, or image destruction, highlight the love/hate and fear/infatuation relationship that people have with images. In either case, people recognize images as powerful. Even so, Freedberg argues that Westerners have repressed these feelings about images because they are troubling. Freedberg argues that idolatry and iconoclasm are rooted in polemics of politics and theology. So, images are tied to ideologies. But, they are also rooted in individual psychopathologies of love and fear. This love and fear comes from the fusion of the image and its prototype. But, historians try to explain away this fusion. According to Freedberg, “it is this intellectual failure to acknowledge the logic of the gaze and the needs it engenders that we must still pursue further” (406). Freedberg call historians to examine acts of iconoclasm to understand why people love and fear images. Iconodules and iconoclasts “Both need images and admit to their power, and in so doing need to control them” (427). This control is usually carried out by words. Even so, people are afraid of the power of images. Freedberg urged historians to recognize their “self-deceptions” and fear of images so that they can analyze the “effect, power, and the success or failure of images” (428).

08 Apr

Arjun Appadurai, “Introduction: commodities and the politics of value” (1986)

Appadurai examines the social life of things within systems of exchange. Exchange is the source of commodity value, not commodity forms and functions. For Appadurai, commodities refer to things that “at a certain phase in their careers and in a particular context, meet the requirements of commodity candidacy” (16).

Appadurai defines commodities as “things with a particular social potential, that they are distinguishable from ‘products,’ ‘objects,’ ‘goods,’ ‘artifacts,’ and other sorts of things – but only from certain respects and from a certain point of view” (6). A commodity can be “any thing intended for exchange” (9). Appadurai wants to get away from relating commodities to products and production. This allows him to consider things bartered for and things gifted as commodities. Defining commodities as things exchanged “means looking at the commodity potential of all things rather than searching fruitlessly for the magic distinction between commodities and other sorts of things. It also means breaking significantly with the production-dominated Marxian view of the commodity and focusing on its total trajectory from production through exchange/distribution, to consumption” (13).

Appadurai argues that the commodity situation “in the social life of any ‘thing’ be defined as the situation in which exchangeability (past, present, or future) for some other thing is its socially relevant feature” (13). The commodity situation can be broken into three features. 1) The commodity phase, which is the idea that commodities can move in and out of the commodity state. The movements can be fast and slow, reversible or terminal. Things may not always be commodities. 2) The commodity candidacy, which is a conceptual feature. It refers to the “standards and criteria (symbolic, classificatory, and moral) that define the exchangeability of things in any particular social and historical context” (14). Commodity candidacy can refer to a price set by humans or the conditions under which humans exchange things. 3) The commodity context, which refers to the “variety of social arenas, within or between cultural units, that help link the commodity candidacy of a thing to the commodity phase of its career” (15).

Commodities are exchanged via paths and diversions. Politics is seen in moments of exchange. Politics is relations, assumptions, and contests of power. Politics is “what create the links between exchange and value” (3). Politics examines the demand-side of the commodities rather than the production-side to describe their value. Within the paths of exchange, commodities are agents. Examining politics in the moment of exchange allows scholars to see and analyze the social life of things in terms of their “socially relevant features.”

Appadurai’s emphasis on exchange as the source of a commodity’s value overlooks certain aspects of the life of things. By focusing only on exchange, Appadurai dismisses the value in other moments in the life of a thing. The important moments are only the “socially relevant” moments when a commodity is exchanged between humans. This seems to dismiss the notion of the life of a thing. It is only important and an agent when it interacts with humans. But, the thing does exist and has a life even when it is not exchanged. Focusing too much on exchange obscure the life of a thing.

08 Apr

Karl Marx, “Capitalist Production” in Capital (1867)

“Capitalist Production” defines commodity and commodity fetishism. These are important categories for the analysis of things because Marx used these categories to criticize materialism, and objects exchanged and produced in capitalist societies. Marx wrote Capital while living in London and working as a journalist for the New York Daily Tribune. Capital was a critique of political economy, more specifically labor exploitation in capitalism and a bourgeois society that relied on things exchanged.

Commodity

Marx defined “commodity” as “an object outside us, a thing that by its properties satisfies human wants of some sort or another” (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 41). Commodities have a use-value and an exchange-value.

The use-value of a commodity is determined by the desires of humans, or how useful a thing is. Use-value is qualitative. The commodity is the use-value. The use-value cannot be measured until the thing is exchanged, or in use and consumption.

A commodity has an exchange-value that is determined by the quantity of other commodities for which one commodities is exchanged. The exchange-value of a commodity cannot be determined by its physical characteristics or properties. The material nature of the commodity has nothing to do with its exchange value. Exchange-value is quantitative and is set by humans, not the commodity. Exchange-value is an expression of the value of a commodity.

Value connects all commodities so they may be exchanged with one another. Value is set by the social necessary labor time of a commodity. This value is tied to use-value because if no one wants the commodity the labor has no value. Commodities only have value when they have use-value for others, or social use value. Use-value, exchange-value, and value are all separate, but related.

Socially necessary labor has a direct correlation with the value of a commodity. As labor increases or decreases so does the value of a commodity. Different types of socially necessary labor are abstracted so that labor of different commodities can be compared. Commodities hide their individual labor histories. The concealment of labor history is what Marx explains via “the fetishism of the commodity.”

The Fetishism of the Commodity

Marx applied the European idea of the fetish as a perverse, primitive, religious illusion to the commodity. Marx argued that commodities were fetishes. Commodities to the capitalist appeared to have a “transcendent” being, they were endowed with a “mystical” and “enigmatic” character (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 81-96). A commodity to the capitalists “is, in reality, a very queer thing, abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties” (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 81). This mystery, according to Marx, stemmed from a commodity’s abstraction of labor and concealment of labor history: “A commodity is therefore a mysterious thing, simply because in it the social character of men’s labor appears to them as an objective character stamped upon the product of the labor” (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 83). A commodity’s material existence seems to have nothing to do with the labor involved in its creation and its value in relation to other commodities. Thus, Marx looked for a category in his contemporary, historical moment that could describe this mysterious power of things.

The parallel he saw was the fetish as Europeans deployed it against West Africans. According to W.T. Mitchell, “Marx adopted fetishism as a metaphor for commodities at the moment when Western Europe (and particular England) was changing its view of the ‘undeveloped’ world from an unknown, blank space, a source of slave-labor, to a place of darkness to be illuminated, a frontier for imperialist expansion and wage-slavery. ‘Fetishism’ was a key word in the vocabularies of nineteenth-century missionaries and anthropologist who went out to convert the natives to the privileges of enlightened Christian capitalism” (W.T. Mitchell, Iconology, 205).

Bill Pietz has chronicled this history and the encounter of European traders with West Africans. Pietz argues that the problem-idea of the fetish “arose within and remains specific to a particular type of cross-cultural experience first engaging European consciousness in ongoing situations on the West African coast after the fifteenth century.” The characteristics of the fetish include: 1) irreducible materiality, or the recognition that the object embodies truth; 2) a fixed power to repeat an original event and order; 3) social value of things; and 4) personal connection with the object so that personhood is inseparable from the object. The fetish is a “factitious universal” and was never used by a religious group to name its objects or relationship with objects. The term was used by Europeans to describe West Africans’ relationship with material objects. Thus, it emerged from cross-cultural interaction. The fetish names something personal and its truth is experienced as a movement from inside the self to outside the self into a material object in space. The fetish subjects the body to material objects.

Marx applied the word fetish to commodity as a critique of capitalism and its perception of magical things. According to Mitchell, “In calling commodities fetishes, Marx is telling the nineteenth century reader that the material basis of modern, civilized, rational political economy is structurally equivalent to that which is most inimical to modern consciousness” (W.T. Mitchell, Iconology, 191). In other words, capitalism was a perverse illusion. Capitalists fetishized commodities and money. Money embodied the value of the commodity. Marx argued that money was not a symbol of exchange, but “the direct incarnation of all human labor,” or “the embodiment of their values” (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 105, 122). Capitalists ignored the symbolic form of money. They recognized that money was a real, powerful thing and that money begot more money.

Marx called capitalists to recognize their own false perceptions of material things. Capitalists were not idolaters in the sense that they worship the symbolic (money) through a material form (commodity). For Marx, capitalists were like West Africans who recognized things (for capitalists, commodities) as magical objects that contain their value (the abstraction of human labor). According to Mitchell, “Commodity fetishism can be understood then, as a kind of double forgetting: first the capitalist forgets that it is he and his tribe who have projected life and value into commodities in the ritual of exchange. ‘Exchange-value’ comes to seem an attribute of commodities even though ‘no chemist has ever discovered exchange-value in either a pear or a diamond.’ But then, a second phase of amnesia sets in that is quite unknown to primitive fetishism. The commodity veils itself in familiarity and triviality, in the rationality of purely quantitative relations and ‘natural, self-understood forms of social life.’ The deepest magic of the commodity fetish is its denial that there is anything magical about it: ‘the intermediate step of the process vanish in the result and leave no trace behind’” (W.T. Mitchell, Iconology, 193). In other words commodities seem like timeless, ahistorical things with power. The abstraction of labor conceals their production processes and history. Capitalistic economics forgot “the historical character of its own mode of production” (W.T. Mitchell, Iconology, 193).  The commodity fetish and money, according to Mitchell, level “all the distinction of sex, age, and skill into quantities of universal labor time in both the exchange and factory” (W.T. Mitchell, Iconology, 196).

The commodity fetish like the West African fetish had roots in religious behavior. Marx linked the commodity fetishism to Christianity, and particularly Protestants and Puritans. Marx argued that for a society that reduces “individual private labor to the standard of homogenous labor…Christianity with its cultus of abstract man, more especially in its bourgeois developments, Protestantism, Deism, &c., is the most fitting form of religion” (Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, 1906, 91). Marx continued, “in so far as the hoarder of money combines asceticism with assiduous diligence he is intrinsically a Protestant by religion and still more a Puritan” (Marx, A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, 1859, 130). Protestantism was the religion of capitalism. Protestants abstracted man in Christianity just as capitalists abstracted human labor. Both elevated things (man and commodity) to the magical statuses and then denied it through words and ideas.